Saturday, February 26, 2011

Oh a'writing we shall go...

In case you haven't found all the links to my Lost Girls' World articles, here they are! And if you, or anyone you know, happen to be flying US Airways soon, keep an eye out for my article, "10 Ways to Look and Act Like a Local in France".

"European Pick-Up Lines: The Good, the Bad, & the Bizarre" http://www.lostgirlsworld.com/2011/02/vday-pick-up-lines/

"Best New Travel Gear, Gadgets, & Extras" http://www.lostgirlsworld.com/2011/02/best-travel-gear-for-2011/

"10 Ways to Look and Act Like a Local in France" http://www.lostgirlsworld.com/2011/01/like-a-local-france/

"48 Hours in Brussels: What to do in Brussels, Belgium" http://www.lostgirlsworld.com/2011/01/things-to-do-in-brussels/

"4 Ways to Earn Money While Traveling" http://www.lostgirlsworld.com/2010/12/earn-money-traveling/

"How to Live Better Out of a Backpack" http://www.lostgirlsworld.com/2010/11/living-better-out-of-a-backpack/

Enjoy!

Friday, February 18, 2011

Valentine's Day, à la française

Some of the Valentine's cards I
received from my students
A few of the poems written by my students in honor of Valentine's Day...typos, misspellings, and all...Leave it to the French to be incredibly dramatic, sensual, and yet terribly lovable.

V: Very good day for a beautiful woman
A: Alone I think at she
L: Listen to my heart
E: Everything I do, I do it for you
N: Never I forget you
T: Take my hands
I: I want to be with you
N: Night and Day
E: Eyes in Eyes, I say: I love you!
                                                                                                                                                                     

My dear love,
You're the sunshine of my life.
Every single moment, I think of you.
The way you're is kind of amazing.
And when you smile, there's anything that I would change.
You make me feel like in a fairytail
I would ever love you.
You're the only interest of my life.
I dream of you every night.
You smells like candy.
                                                                                                                                                                     

The flower of my love is born in my heart.
It's on bouquets of roses, the garden of my life.

Your body's a chocolate; it's beautiful and sexy.
I want to grab your body; it's my dinner of the night.

Your voice is like music; it colors my heart with a passionate red.
And love is on a kiss.

You are my life, my reason to laugh,
And for ever, I love you.
                                                                                                                                                                     

Love is such a great feeling,
When it happens to you, you can't ignore it.
Ever better than in movies, fairy tails Romeo and Juliett.
You and me we are are unstoppable.
You are the most important person I have ever met.
I don't wanna lost you, because I'm nothing without you.

But unfortunately, you decided otherwise.
You left me alone without any remember of you.
I need to get your out of my head, because I miss you too much!
A day without you is like a year without rain.
I wish I could forget all this pain.
I wish I could have never fell in love with you.
I hope one day I'll be able to forget you,
And find a new mister right,
The one who's going to be on my side for the life fight.
                                                                                                                                                                     

Your eyes,
The way you smile,
Like a star in the night,
My love for you is like the ocean,
Long.
                                                                                                                                                                     

I just love you.
That is all.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Your wallet is for documents. Please go pay at the cash desk.

        With all of my writing about traveling, it’s often hard to remember what I am doing over here in the first place. But you all remember that thing I have, you know, a job? Surprisingly yes, I do have something that I build my life around over here – teaching. And I must admit, in the past four weeks that I have been back, I have few complaints. My confidence has grown in the classroom, I have fun lessons planned about American culture and history, and the game of Jeopardy has made it into more than one class period. I do realize that since I’ve been over here, I haven’t really blogged a lot about my experience at the school, so I am devoting this week’s posting to my life inside the classroom….enjoy!


            During my first two weeks back, I spent the timing wrapping up with my old classes, before switching to my new spring schedule. However, even after having these kids for three months, I still found it hard to remember their names. Call me crazy, but when you have 12 classes in two days, each with 15 or more students, it becomes a little difficult to recall the name of each and every student. In one of my classes, the only name I could remember was that of a kid named Jeremy. Easy enough, that’s my brother’s name. Only problem with that is, when you can’t remember anyone else’s name in the class, you repeatedly call on the one you do know. In this instance, Jeremy took this as a sign that I had a crush on him. Typical French boy. In one class, I used him as my exemplary partner for a group exercise. I guess he thought this “sealed the deal” so-to-speak, and I now have a boy who will sit in the front of the class, continually winking and blowing kisses in my direction. Slight unnerving, but harmless nonetheless.
            Most of my post-Christmas lessons dealt with working on the past tense, both preterit and imperfect. At the beginning of class, we would come up with a list of questions that you might ask someone to learn about their holidays. I wanted them to describe where they went, what they did, what they ate, what presents they got, etc. The following is a list I wrote down of some of the questions they came up with:

            -Did you turkey eating?
            -Have you skiing in the holiday?
            -What did you become as a present? (Well, I turned into a Jack-in-the-Box, thank you very much)
            -Did you holiday winter? (I have no idea what this was meant to be)
            -Did you make shopping (literal translation of “faire du shopping”)
            -Did you go to your grandparents’ hoose? (pronounced hoo-z)
            -Did you recive clothesis? (pronounced re-si-ve and clothes-iz)

            Another subject many of them don’t like to talk about: New Year’s. The get incredibly embarrassed when they speak about drinking. As many of you know, the drinking age in France is technically 18. However, high schoolers start much earlier, that I can attest to. The number of students I have who “couldn’t remember” what they did on New Year’s was actually astounding. But in telling me so, most of them turned beet-red.


            Towards the end of this first semester, my students got increasingly comfortable with telling me things about their personal lives. This is rare for French people – students and teachers alike – because they don’t generally tend to share information with people they don’t consider their close friends (much unlike Americans). One girl began to tell me about the boy she had just met on the internet. Apparently they had been dating for 3 weeks, and she wanted advice about going to visit him. Why ask me? Well, he was from Boise, Idaho. I think she thought that since I was American, I would have some sort of advice for her about going to Boise. I think I told her, “I hope you like potatoes.” I can give really awesome advice.
            In one of my new classes, this sharing phenomenon was reversed. With one of the English professors, it is generally the custom that I come to the first class, meet the students, and they are allowed to ask me questions while he is in the room. For one of the classes, they ran out of questions with about 5 minutes of class to go. He decided to use this time to have the students ask him questions. Note: this is extremely rare. French students and teachers do not interact beyond the academics of the classroom. It amazed me that they didn’t know if he was married, had children, or had lived in Malaysia, Singapore, and Dubai. Those were things I learned from my first conversation with him! When one student learned that he had traveled all over the world, she inquired about his wife, “And do you have French woman?” I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
            In my new classes, the first few weeks are devoted to introductions. I get to know a little about my students, and they get to know a little bit about me. I mostly ask them to work in pairs, so they practice asking the questions to their neighbors, writing down the answers, and then presenting their neighbor to the class. While they were writing their responses, one student asked me the translation of the word “belle-soeur”, which means stepsister. When she was presenting her neighbor to the class, she said this is Coralie, my stepsister. I was intrigued, so I asked “Were you friends before your parents got married?” Confused, she didn’t answer the question, and instead moved on with her presentation. “This is my stepsister, and she is also dating my brother.” OKAY…WHAT?! Serious clarification necessary. Thankfully there was a student in class who caught the look of shock and horror on my face, and told the girl in French what I thought she had said. She clarified that no, their parents were not married, and that yes, Coralie was dating her brother, that’s what made her, her “belle-soeur”. Aha! Crux of the problem is that belle-soeur has two translations: stepsister and sister-in-law. Thankfully she was referring to the latter of the two, as the girl and her brother were engaged to be married. How I love when things get lost in translation!

This is where you put your documents.
            I also love the beginning of a new semester because it means I get to sit-in on the classes I will be taking over. This allows me to observe how these native French-speakers teach my language. And it is quite amusing. In one class of BTS students, those in their post-back years (so basically the exact same age as I am – awkward), they were learning about the song “Ka-Ching” by Shania Twain. Or should I say, Shan-ya Twain, as the teacher pronounced it. I love how they put the wrong emphasis on the wrong syllables – it’s adJECive, not ADjective. Going through the song, the students had a list of vocabulary words they needed to identify the meaning of. One such word, wallet. When asked what people use a wallet for, I generally say, to hold money. However, I stood corrected when one of the professors corrected me and said, “No, no. A wallet is to hold your documents.” And where do you go pay for things in a store? “A cash desk.” Duh.

Cash desk.
            A very large difference between French and American schools is the amount of PDA that exists inside the hallways. It is actually quite astounding. I am often caught off guard as I round a corner and find students making out in the middle of the hallway. As I mentioned before, coming from the land founded by prudes, this is not something we see on a daily basis. Another difference is the number of “repeater” students they have. In some cases in the US, kids can be held back a year if they haven’t progressed enough the year before. But I would say that being held back isn’t exactly commonplace. Not the case in France. I have students who have been held back one, two, sometimes even three years! I have a student who is 20 years old in an English class with 15 year olds! Absurdity.
            One question I get asked a lot, which really makes me laugh, is why in the world I would ever want to leave Washington, DC to come to a place like Saverne. When students ask me this question they seem genuinely confused that anyone in their right mind would choose to come and spend a year in Saverne. And after spending 6 months here, I must admit I agree with them to a certain extent. There ain’t much going on over here. But when I explain to them that I get to do all of this wonderful traveling, they sort of understand. They are amazed I can be so far away from home and so independent. One student asked, “Are you afraid of anything?! You seem so brave!”

Warsaw
            Speaking of being brave, I should tell you about my next holiday. Next week, the schools go on a two-week February vacation. As an exercise in total independence, I am traveling alone to Poland, Scotland, and Italy. This will be the first time that I am completely on my own in a land where I don’t speak a word of the language (Dzien dobry anyone?)…Exciting! I’m hoping to become one of those really cool travelers that can stay by herself at a hostel, meet awesome new people, and be entirely self-sufficient in a foreign land...We’ll see how that goes!

If anyone has any traveling tips for Warsaw, Krakow, Edinburgh, or Florence, feel free to comment below! I am eager to glean travel tips from my readers. 

Until next time, do widzenia!

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Paris, France: Alors, c’est brunch lash demain, n’est-ce pas?


           It’s often that case that when we live somewhere, we forget how truly amazing that place may be. When you’re going through the motions of everyday life, buying groceries, going to the laundromat, or running out for coffee, the city you call home may appear less glamorous than it actually is.


This is how I feel about France. I must admit, I really haven’t taken full advantage of living here. In Europe? Definitely yes. In France? Perhaps not so much. But it only takes one place, one day, or one person, to change that. The past weekend I spent in Paris was that change. In the past 6 months, I have been to Paris four times, but only ever in transit. Spending a full weekend there, with the chance to wander the wide boulevards and gaze at the incredible vistas, has made me fall in love with France all over again. Now, some people will say that Paris is not truly France; it is a place all its own. And while this may definitely be true, the City of Lights emits a spirit of romanticism that is unmistakably and undeniably French.
If I’m being totally honest, my weekend trip to Paris wasn’t spurred so much by a desire to reconnect with the country I now call my home, but rather a need to reconnect with old friends. You see, this past weekend in Paris was somewhat of a mini UVA reunion. With friends coming from London, Brussels, Zurich, Strasbourg and even New York, our small UVA contingent converged on Paris like a blue and orange storm. And let me just say, some French people just don’t know what to expect when we bring wahoo spirit all the way across the Atlantic…

Champs-Elysées at night
As always, my trip started with a train. But this time, it was all fun and games for me. When I originally purchased my ticket, the prices of the first- and second-class tickets were the same. Of course I opted for first-class because when in my stipend-earning career over here will I ever again get to travel in luxury? Never (Hello, Ryanair). With space to stretch my legs and recline my chair, the two-hour trip passed by in what felt like a minute. Familiar with the route to Victoria’s apartment, I hopped onto the metro, and 10 minutes later found myself in the middle of the Champs-Elysées, staring at the Arc de Triomphe. The trees lining the sidewalks, still covered in lights, gave a festive glow to the busy avenue, and light-hearted café-goers laughed as they sipped their evening lattes.

you-vee-ayy
I arrived at Victoria’s around 7pm, giving us ample time to catch up before my scheduled phone interview at 8 (go me). After the interview, we showered, got ready, and prepared a quick meal for the rest of the UVA crowd coming for dinner. Overcooked pesto pasta, tabouleh, hummus, Wasa crackers, and potato chips. I guess you could call it eclectic…Cultural? Not so much. But anything washed down with good bottles of French red wine is fine by me! After a long dinner of reminiscing, catching up, and cracking more than a few jokes, our little UVA crowd was joined by a few more partiers, ready for a night on the town. Around midnight or so, we headed out to Matignon, a club not more than 200 meters from the front door of Victoria’s apartment building. Definitely my type of going out – quick and easy!
Now from spending most of time in the valley and Strasbourg, my body was not exactly equipped for a night out in Paris. My stamina has severely weakened since Strasbourg’s party scene is…well, non-existent. By 3am my feet were aching in my high heels and all I could think about was Victoria’s nice, new IKEA bed waiting for me down the street. It didn’t take anyone too much convincing to get me to go home…
Saturday morning, true to my insomniac form, I was wide-awake at 8am, with not much to do. In the five hours I spent waiting for Victoria to wake up, I watched some Friends episodes, made a little breakfast, and attempted to organize my job-searching life. True to her form, Victoria woke up around 1pm. As my friend’s dad once put it, “I’m not sure anyone in Europe under the age of 25 ever sees the morning.” In most cases, he would be right. I, however, am the miserable exception to that rule.

brunch lash 2011!
I guess you could say that Saturday afternoon was when the real reunion occurred. Back at school, every Sunday, our group of friends would have “brunch lash” – basically an all-day champagne brunch we used as an excuse to delay doing work, continue the weekend partying, hang out all together, and eat a lot of food. In honor of our brunching tradition, we decided to do “Brunch Lash 2011, Paris Style”. And it did not disappoint. Each respective party did quite a bit of shopping before our brunch, and what we ended up with was quite an array of delectable foods and champagne. Coming from Versailles, Nico, Tom, and Paola brought fresh cheeses and meats from the open-air market that were mouth-wateringly good. Victoria and I managed to bring a couple baguettes, 5 bottles of champagne, hummus and crackers, ingredients to make crepes (including nutella, sugar, and honey), more than a few pain au chocolat, and quite a serious number of eggs. When we arrived, we added our loot to the plates of fresh cheese, paté, and rillettes, the growing pile of baguettes, the plates of smoked salmon, salad, and even pancakes. Can anyone say smorgasbord? I think so.
In typical UVA tradition, we started with the champagne. We moved through that pretty quickly, and the late afternoon called for one more jaunt to the wine store. Returning with a magnum of Pol Roger (amongst others) Nico, Julian, Tom, and Paola topped off our glasses, and pumped up the UVA-themed music. No, we did not play the Good Ole Song. I’m not even sure any of us knows the words to that one (tsk tsk), but we did play some Virginian classics like “Wagon Wheel” and “Chicken Fried”. I must tell you, this day, more than anything, made me want to change my plane ticket home so I could make it down to UVA in time for Foxfields. Being over here, I hadn’t thought about it in a long time, but wow, UVA, I miss you.
I got a poster of this Degas painting
for my room
When midnight rolled around, we realized we had been partying for about nine or ten hours. Exhausted from our fête, Victoria and I made our way home, and were sound asleep within twenty minutes of walking through the door. 
Sunday we turned into a cultural day with a trip to my absolute favorite museum in the world, the Musée D’Orsay. Located on the Left Bank, just across the Seine from the Louvre, this old, converted train station is home to some of the most famous, most talked about works of art in the world. Many impressionists and post-impressionists have large parts of their oeuvres here, including Manet, Monet, Sisley, Pissarro, Signac, Degas, Renoir, Seurat, Cézanne, Caillebotte, Gaugin and Van Gogh. Walking the halls of this museum is like flipping through a real-life version of an art history textbook. Leave me alone for a day in Paris, and this is where I will come. I could spend hours wandering around, soaking up the beauty that every artist and painting has to offer.
Eiffel Tower
 the time we finally left, just as the museum was closing, the sun was starting to go down over Paris. The sparkling lights had started on the Eiffel Tower, and the Ferris wheel at Place de la Concorde was lit up against the darkening sky. Wanting to see a little bit more of Paris, we wandered home to Victoria’s apartment instead of riding the metro. We crossed over the Seine just as the twinkling lights appeared, and the beauty of the view down the river is not to be described. I stood rooted to my spot on the bridge; wanting to take in every moment, breathe in every second of this beautiful, amazing city. As cliché as it is, it is truly one of my favorites.
Back at home we made crepes for dinner, and I packed my bags for the journey home to Alsace. I caught a 9:30pm train, and was back in Strasbourg just around midnight. During the whole two hours on the way back, I kept taking out the postcards of Degas, Renoir, Sisley, and Monet works that I had bought from the museum, and simply gazed at their timeless beauty. I knew I had become an art history major for some reason...