SOMEONE HUG ME!

Sunday, October 10th 2010

Living in France for me is like a buying and wearing a brand new pair of shoes...sort of.

Imagine you've been waiting for your shoes to come in the mail, as you bought them off Ebay, of course, and every day you wonder what they'll look like in real life, how they'll match your outfits, who will notice them, and so on. You are very excited and anxious to wear them.

They arrive, and you are overwhelmed with their shoe-beauty, and put them on right away. For a brief period, all is well and you go out to strut your stuff, only to find several minutes is all is takes for them to cause you extreme discomfort, and you go through phases of wanting to return them to hoping they break in soon so you can stop being in so much pain. You wonder if they're worth it sometimes.

Shoe analogy!

Regardless of where I go or for how long, the first week is always the most difficult, no matter how great things can be, and I did indeed have a great first week. But, just like the shoes, you have to wear in the new life (or lifestyle) you've chosen so that it's a bit more comfortable, so that every time you move, you're not wishing to just go back to the old pair of loafers you're used to, because those loafers are great and comfortable for around the house, but they sure aren't going to get you far once you leave home. For me, sticking to what is comfortable will not allow me to get to where I want to be nor have the kind of experiences that I want.

It's a dangerous thing, comfort. As nice as it is, it can hold you back if you let it. Of course this depends entirely on who we are, what we want and where we are in our life, but as for me, I want to punch comfort in the face and get past it. Sure, I'd like it eventually, and I will apologize most sincerely to it later on when I want it back. But for now, craving the comfort of familiarity and for what I'm used to will get me nowhere.

That's not to say that 12 days into my life in France that I don't still feel the pull of it when I don't know where to buy hangers or when I don't know how to use kilograms. That's not to say that when I'm lost downtown that I don't wish for the the familiarity of my hometown streets, or when I don't know how the bus system works that I don't wish for the comfort of my car. But, it's my choice to let this bring me down or not as it has in the past, and this time, I'm doing better, and will be much better for it.

These small details are individually no great matters, yet when virtually every detail like this changes and you have to re-learn them all, it can feel like spikes have been places on the inside of your shoes and sometimes we want to stop walking.

I may have run a bit far with this one (haha, get it?) but the point is that I feel as though I've walked far enough to where this life is starting to feel more comfortable, albeit some blisters, and I'm starting to feel at home here. I've re-learned many of the little details that we take for granted, and I've made some great friends to help me along the way. Things are coming together little by little, and I'd say I'm wearing in this life pretty good so far.

Besides, can't return this pair of shoes.

- -

Tuesday, October 12th

I guess I should talk about some real events in this post.

I started working at my high school yesterday, which was like a cocktail of disaster and tequila...if there's really a difference between the two.

Slight exaggeration aside, it was truly just 1 out of 5 classes that was terrible, the other 4 consisted mostly of politely bored French teenagers. There were a handful of exceptions, consisting mostly of the students who came to my new English Club and enthusiastically asked about McDonald's and fat people in the United States.

Anyway, my schedule is fairly complicated, but I teach 12 individual classes a week, which alternate; there's week A and week B, so I'm meeting quite a lot of new students (there are typically 10-12 in each class of mine). However, after this first month, my entire schedule changes again, though it goes until the end of my work here, which is in mid-April. I still don't entirely understand why...

Well, once again, nothing worthwhile comes easily, and I repeat this to myself when I'm wondering why people even bother trying to teach teenagers at all. It's like locking a hundred angry bees into a small room with a good-intended human who would like to make them stop buzzing. Basically you just end up stung, but if you're lucky, you get some honey to take home.

Turns out, a combination of English slang and PowerPoint presentation's with interesting pictures can distract them long enough so that you're just occasionally swatting at them distractedly as you teach all the others “What's up?” because that, apparently, is much cooler than, “How are you?” I'm learning.

I'm only onto day 2 now and I think that not only will every day be incredibly different, but every class will vary hour to hour. One bad bee and you're stung and swollen which can affect you for the rest of the day, causing you to not to give your best to the other bees. Of course, having a good attitude and not letting this happen is like having an epipen, or whatever they're called...need to buy one of those...

The staff in general are friendly, and the English teachers are especially great and wonderfully helpful. Les Haberges is a rather small school, with about 800 students, in a rather small city of about 20,000, but it's pleasant and I'm learning the ropes and hoping to establish good rapports with everyone, especially with the students. It's one of the reasons why I offered to do an English Club, in order to know them better, as well as to have a bit more of a presence in the school. Yesterday was the first meeting, and 5 amazing girls attended, and we talked about stereotypes and I shared some pictures of my life.

The one thing that I frankly cannot get used to though is the hours: I finish at either 5 or 6pm every day I work, and it's about 45-50 minutes to get back, with an additional 15-30 minute walk (depending on who drives me back) or probably a 10 minute bus ride, if I could only learn how those work...

Basically, I get back, exhausted, and it's too late to really do much except have dinner with Erwan and Lucie (or Simon and Benjamin if they're here...most everyone here is working or doing some kind of internship which requires them to spend some time here and some time in another city).

After dinner, we either go out downtown to walk around and have a drink, or sometimes we stay in and have tea and chat (just taught “Erwan” how to play “Speed” the card game!) or we all just slump back to our rooms, exhausted from day, going to bed "as early as a grandmother," as Clara says (my flatmate, remember?)

So in this way, I'm wearing in my shoes. All of us are sort of establishing a routine, and with that brings familiarity, which brings a new kind of comfort.

However...

NOBODY HUGS HERE. I'm starving for affection. These bisous just don't cut it.

Hugs,
Katie