Walking and Falling (Apart)

To finish last night, I met another inhabitant of the Internat, Carine, who lives here Tuesdays-Thursdays.  She teaches P.E. and so informed me that she is always obsessing over the weather.  Carine also taught me how to use the electric stove that’s in the kitchen!  I had foolishly thought that it doesn’t work and had been using the hot plate all this time.  To use the stove, though, you have to turn on the timer first and then the “burner” itself.  I don’t know why that never occurred to me, but now that I know how to use it, I’m plus ou moins unstoppable.  (Not to be confused with Ron Stoppable.  That one’s for you, Stephi.)  Anyway, she’s very nice but is outraged at there not being any heat in the kitchen. 

            Today I was to go to the salle des professeurs du lycée à 10h00.  I left at 9:55 thinking it would be no problem at all.  Naturally, I went to the wrong floor again and walked the length of it.  This time I got to hear some kids making out against a wall, but it was MIXED LOVE, so I let it be.  Slash what would I have done anyway?  I suppose most anyone who went to high school would be used to the sight and sound of this common scene but not me since I went to an all girls high school.  If there was any of that going on, I missed it.  So I went back downstairs and got to the teacher’s lounge without issue.  I was rushed inside by another prof who was trying to get in quickly during the break, which lasts around 15/20 minutes, I’d wager.  Again, I didn’t know what to do and felt silly when I realized I had walked right by Marc when I entered.  So, he scanned the room looking for other English professors and we scurried into the adjoining computer lab hoping for luck when the main room offered no prospects.  There, I met Sabine.   At this point, Marc informed me that I had yet to meet two more of the profs: Flavie and Sandra (I think). 

            We were leaving to go upstairs and find Sandra when we ran into a woman whose name I can’t recall who teaches DNL (Disciplines Non-Linguistics) and who said she might be interested in having me come to some of her classes.  I understood this in French.  As we left, Marc re-said it in English to me that she teaches history and geography but sometimes teaches it in English.  Which kind of made me think about how sad American schooling is (no offense to teachers, especially you, Père).  I mean, I can’t imagine being in a class like that where I’m to learn about history in another language!  Maybe at university.  Then Marc told me that it’s the EURO group, though.  He had mentioned that he teaches this group on Mondays, and it’s led in English.  So, now I think that maybe it’s a select group of advanced students?  Or a group focused on more global things?  Not sure yet.  Anyway, we went upstairs where we met Sandra (I think?) who was tired because she had taken the students on a field trip to the opera in Lyon the night before.  They go on pretty awesome field trips around here.  Yesterday, Nicole said that if there’s room, I can come on the field trip when she takes her students to Geneva to see that physics thing (wow, I sound ignorant) that’s in Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons, which they’re reading in class.  Can you imagine reading Dan Brown for class?  Cray cray.

            The break ended and Marc said I could stay in the lounge and chat with other teachers (terrifying) or I could go on.  I said I was going to go explore Belley, and so I did.  I walked around, making sure to take photos for you, dear readers.  This is the main roundabout, which is actually right next to the roundabout that’s by the school.

I walked up the road a bit until I thought I had seen all there was to see and then I walked back down a parallel street.  I walked up the next one where I stopped into a boulangerie and purchased my first croissant for CWill.  It was delicious, no doubt.  But I think it would have been better had it been warm, but I can’t really complain too much.  The old woman behind the counter was pleased when I handed her exact change: 0.70€.  (Can you believe it?  And to think of how much Starbucks charges!  C’est ridicule!)  This is the view from the street with that boulangerie.

           I continued walking because I wanted to stop in at the Tourist Center to get a map of the city.  Got it!  It fits on one side of a piece of paper.  I looked around a bit seeing if there were any societies or anything I wanted to join.  At the moment, no.  I continued wandering on and came across a Petit Casino!  I went inside hoping that there would be some peanut butter.  Sadly, no.  But I did get a chocolate bar.  Those things are MAD expensive, though.  And I went with the cheapest one, which was Casino brand.  It’s not great, but it’s certainly better than I would expect Ralphs or Schnuck’s chocolate to be.  This is the street with these two places—La Grande Rue.

(It’s funny because I thought that it was so busy out today but you would never be able to tell from my photos!)
        I came out and went down a street I hadn’t traveled before and just kept walking wherever.  I passed some historical sites, each carefully marked with a placard, and read about them.  Each is pretty but I didn’t take photos this time.  (I like to keep you coming back for more!)  At the end of one street was this building, though, which was just too beautiful for me to not take a photo.

I got to the end of the road and it said no entry, and the signs said it was Palais Episcopal so I didn’t really care that I couldn’t go inside.  For the moment, I was satisfied with my photo.  On the gates, a sign said the cathédral and the bibliothèque were to the right.  Having gone through London with my mum, I knew that I should pop into the cathedral for some culture.  

It’s a historic site.  I went in and walked through it, pausing to say a prayer for you hooligans back home and to buy a postcard.  (Postcard bought on the honors system, I might add!)  Having always been partial to Mary, this is where I sat down for a bit.  (I guess it’s the feminist in me.)  

Pretty ceiling, no? 

            I came out and really wanted to find the library as I guessed that it would have the internet if I were in a pinch.  I walked around and around.  No luck!  I could’ve asked the guy who was parked outside of the cathedral pumping the techno music, but I decided to just come back a different day.  (I got home and looked at the map I had been carrying around with me.  Turns out that the pretty yellow house IS the library.  I'm idiot.  Will return when possible...)

            I came home and ate lunch while talking to Jennifer, who’s in Strasbourg.  I took a nap after listening to some more NPR (I’m gonna be super educated when I come back.  Watch out.)  Then I woke up and broke my earring that I got at a Manchester Christmas Market.  Wah wah.  I want some cheese with my whine.  Honestly, it’s an easy fix with some Krazy Glue.  Where am I going to get that, though?  Tell me.   Also, I’m sure that I got my Toms a ½ size too small.  If anyone wants to trade me a size 9 for my 8 1/2s, I’d be much obliged.

            Then I went for a run and did some serious damage to my right shoulder, which has been acting weird since I arrived.  Punishment for insulting the French way of life by running in the first place?  You tell me.

            Living in fear of Marianne,

                        Jus