ouest-france article

I'm famous! This short article and photo appeared in the regional newspaper Ouest-France a couple of weeks ago. The basic gist of the article: a bunch of French nerds are here to teach little ones English. (The photo features only those of us working in ecoles primaires. There are actually about 30 English assistants throughout the Cotes d'Armor department of Brittany once you take high school and middle school into account.)

Love how the quality of the image makes me look like I have braces and am therefore 15 years old.

on being responsible for formative minds

I’ve been in France for two weeks and already I’ve had a visitor from the States! Anthony, a friend from the great state of Texas, has been traveling around Europe since he ran the Berlin marathon two weeks ago. And since his flight home left out of Paris, he decided to come to little ol’ Lannion for a couple of days! Below are some pictures from the day trip we took to a place called Ploumanac’h on the coast. It was beautiful, and I was glad to see the sea, as I live just kilometers away from it, and of course it’s what makes the region famous. We walked for several hours along the Sentier des douaniers, a meandering footpath 19kms long right on the edge of the water. Historically, it was where customs officers patrolled the coast. The sights were unlike anything I’ve seen before, and there was something almost enchanting about the contrast between the pink granite rocks and the blue-gray-green water (In fact, the Breton language has its own word for this color: glasz.) Even the wind seemed other-worldly.

(crazy alien flower!)

In other news, it’s official: I’m an elementary school teacher (say WHAT?!). I taught – and survived! – my first two classes today. I’ve been placed in three schools, two écoles primairesand one lycée (high school). At the lycée, I’ll be doing what I actually signed up to do – that is, assist. I’ll lead discussions with small groups of students to supplement what they’re learning in class and get them to apply the language. At the écoles primaires, however, I’ve got a lot more responsibility. I am THE teacher. As in, they have given me two classes and expect me to teachthese children English. I’ve got one CE2 class and one CM1 (the equivalent of second and third grade), and the age of my students ranges from 7-10. There are 23 of them in one class and 16 in the other. Again, WHAT?!

Needless to say, I was a nervous wreck this morning. I had no idea how to prepare for class, as I had no concept of how much English they’ve already learned. Not to mention I’ve got almost zero teaching experience and even less experience working with children. It was overwhelming and challenging, but I can already tell it’s going to be such a positive and rewarding experience for me. It’s going to push me out of my comfort zone in such a good way. I do, however, feel a lot of pressure to be the kind of teacher and role model these kids deserve. I’ve been told that many of them are “en difficulté” – that is, they come from single-parent households and lack in particular a male role model. It’s going to require a lot of effort on my part, but today’s classes left me feeling so motivated, and I look forward to seeing how the students (and I!) evolve. They are so cute and eager; this morning they walked single-file into the classroom and stared at me all wide-eyed and curious, timidly muttering “bonjour” to me under their breath. We went over simple things like “My name is,” and the names of colors, and I’m already impressed by their level of comprehension – or at least their responsiveness/ willingness to react and repeat. And of course I love walking through the halls, the walls plastered with indecipherable drawings, everything so colorful and miniature!

Anyway, my computer's about to die, and I don't have my charger with me at the cafe. Signed up finally for internet, but we still won't have it for 5-15 days. Oof. It's been a long, exhausting week, but now it's the weekend! Heledd, a friend and fellow assistant from Wales, and I are heading to Guingamp this weekend. Updates soon!

adventure in the great wide somewhere

Let’s be real: my twenty three years of life experience did not prepare me for finding housing, let alone housing in a foreign country. This is, of course, no surprise considering I went to Davidson, where students have to ask permission to live off campus (and even then, it’s pretty much a matter of choosing between two streets). Thus, the hunt for an apartment in Lannion was, for lack of better words, a big fat pain in the derrière. But it was! Past tense!

I am writing this from my apartment, y’all. From my very own chez moi. Well, not “my very own.” I’ve got a Spanish roommate named Roberto. And we don’t actually have internet yet so I’m posting this from a café with wi-fi. But things are actually falling into place, which is more than I could say two days ago. Forgive the cliché, but this week has been an emotional rollercoaster. Because in the midst of my frustration, anger, and pessimism, there was Lannion, which is so wonderfully picturesque it’s impossible to sustain any kind of negative emotion. I’m getting ahead of myself, though.

After several fruitless days of calling people with apartment listings in local newspapers and walking around town looking for “à louer” (to rent) signs in windows (the internet completely failed me), I actually had a choice to make between two places: a totally charming (read: endearingly small) studio in an old stone building right in the middle of the city, just outside of my budget but exactly what I’d imagined; and a large apartment on top of a hill several minutes by foot from the middle of the city, a total eyesore resembling a psychiatric ward from the outside.

Seems like an easy decision, right? The studio? Nope. I went with the latter. For one reason alone: money. It proved impossible to pass up an apartment for 110€ per month (versus 250€ + electricity + cost of furnishing the kitchen, as there were no dishes). I tried so hard to justify spending more than twice as much money on something much smaller but infinitely quainter, but just couldn’t do it. I’m sure I’ll get over it soon, but calling the landlord to tell him I’d found something else certainly tugged on my heartstrings a little. I’ll make the most of the new digs, though, and now I won’t feel guilty about spending a little money to spruce it up a bit, make it feel less like an institution and more like a home! I’m even fixin’ to buy a plant. And a pillow.

Now instead of writing about everything I’ve seen and done since my arrival in Lannion, here’s a summary of my week in pictures. (Aforementioned frustration, anger, and pessimism not included, as they no longer exist as of 10:00 this morning.) (Pictures of my three days in Paris also not included.) (Pictures of my apartment will be posted forthwith.) (Something about blogging makes me cuckoo for parenthetical statements!)

(Cafe les Valseuses, a bar I went to the other night with the guy who let me Couch Surf chez lui all week. We sat out back, where there are picnic tables and plastic chairs, and we just sat there talking and looking at the stars. Unreal.)

(Les escaliers de Brelevenez)

(Just another charming French street)

(And another medieval church...)

(A door on my street)

(Karen, a friend from Davidson and fellow assistant came to visit! She's been placed in Guingamp, a small town twenty minutes by train from here.)

(It may be October, but there are flowers in bloom everywhere)

(Me! In front of le Leguer, the river that passes through Lannion. Keep walking along it for a few kilometers and you hit the sea)