Last night Marc asked me if I would come to the school at noon to meet the English Department. Even though I’m suuuper busy (jokes), I said I could come. Since I was in bed around 11, I figured I didn’t need to set an alarm. I mean, on Monday, it was quite noisy what with all the students returning. Well, I wish I had set an alarm because I was a bit panicked when I awoke at 10:30. (Guess I’m still jet lagged.) That’s not to say that it takes me so long to get ready, but I didn’t know where exactly I was supposed to meet Marc. He said to meet him in the teacher’s lounge, but there’s many different buildings at the campus. So, I got ready without issue and made my way over to the campus (which is just on the other side of my building).
I walked around the courtyard not really knowing which building I was meant to enter. There’s about 4 buildings, and there’s hardly any signage. I decided to not go into Le Mariste simply because it looked a bit different and was semi-removed from the rest of the buildings. Score one for me. (It goes downhill after that. But don’t get excited.) I was near a building on the right and two women came out speaking to each other. I should have asked then, but I thought I could do it on my own. I decided to not go into that building because younger looking kids were coming out (the lycée/high school and collège/middle school share a courtyard). So I went into the other large-ish building and went down the stairs just inside the door. There were some students loitering outside doorways and lots of signs about science and ingénieurs (engineers). Not wanting to ask for help, I just walked the length of the hallway looking for “la salle des professeurs du lycée.” I reached the other end of the hall and came upon an emergency exit. I turned around, careful not to make embarrassing eye contact with the students in the hallway, and went back out to the courtyard. Having previously made a note of where the two women were going earlier, I wandered over to them and asked where the room was. (Mind you, as I’m doing all of this, the students are coming outside for lunch. So as I’m walking over to the women, there’s two mecs/guys behind me saying, “Hey girl. Hey girl” in English.”) The women kind of laughed and said I needed to go to a completely different place. They pointed me in the right direction, which was, of course, in the building I had just exited. So I went back and went up the stairs but then exited on the other side to see parents waiting to take their kids home for lunch, I presume. I turned around, bewildered, and saw that I had been in the building with the sign “Lycée du Bugey”! So I wasn’t idiot after all. I went in and saw a petit office that looked like a secretary’s and a woman inside. I said I was sorry and where was the salle des professeurs du lycée. She walked me to the stairs and showed me where to go. Successsssss!!
Getting into the salle, though, didn’t make things much easier. Marc wasn’t yet there so I didn’t know what to do. I just kind of stood there waiting for him. A medium-height brunette looked at me and started speaking in English. I don’t know if I reek of English or if Marc had told her that I was coming already, but anyway, she introduced herself. Nicole works in the English department and also introduced me to her blonde lunchmate, Ingrid (who is also the most French-looking person I have met thus far). She asked if I would like to have lunch with them, and I said sure. Because at this point I thought she knew I was waiting for Marc. Whoops! As we were making our way to the cantine (cafeteria), Marc came up and Nicole said, “Tu as un rendez-vous avec Marc!” A surprise to her. Oh well. No skin off my nose. We waited for Marc and then continued onto the cantine.
To eat here, you have to have this card that scans your barcode and then a tray is released. Needless to say that I don’t yet have this card. The machine that accepts cash was out of order as well. So Nicole told the cook the sitch and he said I was lucky to catch him on a good day and he gave me a tray. (Fo frizzle! Money in the bank!) We continued along the food line and I picked up salad, an apple, crêpes (with nutella! At a cafeteria! Heaven?), and a plate with what I thought was lasagna, some rice-y thing, and brussel sprouts with carmelized onions. They also had pieces of bleu cheese, bread, a cakey thing, poached eggs, and some other things as well. Best cafeteria food I’ve ever seen. As I was finishing the line, one of the women working at the cafeteria stopped me to say that I had taken two desserts. I didn’t know what she wanted me to do, but Nicole stepped in to say that she hadn’t taken one so it’s okay. The woman proceeded to say that she didn’t really care but that the students ought to not see. Duly noted for next time.
Because of this interaction, I wasn’t able to follow Marc and Ingrid as closely as I had been before and so when I walked in the direction that they had I found a room full of students eating. No Marc and Ingrid. Nicole came up from behind and asked if I was lost and showed me the separate eating area for professors. I took a seat and started eating. Well, I got WAY too much food. And felt sort of awful about it as I noticed that all of the other profs had essentially taken the perfect amount so that their plates were cleaned at the end, their empty yogurts carefully stacked on top of their empty plates and empty bowls.
People asked where I was from and when I said Los Angeles, everyone was impressed. (Thanks, Mom and Dad, for settling down there.) I don’t have to work for accolades. I tried to keep up with conversations, but it’s difficult. Everything is so fast. And there’s so many conversations at once. And they’re often talking about things that I don’t really know much about. But I did manage to effectively communicate some things in French. Nicole seemed interested in women’s studies (which I had to describe in English). She doesn’t seem pleased with the current government, which sounds like it is making it even more difficult for women to do more. Later, there were some jokes about what Philip will name his child who’s due December 24. Some suggested names were Jesus, Marie, Marie Jesus, Jesus Marie, Marie Jeanne, Jeanne Marie. Eventually, the meal ended, and Marc offered to take me on a tour of the school.
It seems nice and everyone is very friendly. I’m a bit concerned about all that’s left to do in terms of paperwork. It sounds like they’re going to help me set up a bank account soon, which will be great since apparently my credit cards don’t work here. Apparently there’s a lot more paperwork for Americans than for those from other countries who do the program. Tough break.
Then I came home, talked to Chelsea Welsea, watched Mad Men, and listened to NPR.
Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me!
Jess
Tuesday's sunset from my window:
don't worry, piglet. you'll adjust lickety split and won't feel awk anymore. my first few weeks here i was terrified of the other teachers and students, and now we gud.
ReplyDeletealso, the dessert fiasco is effing hilarious