La Panique à la Grande Neige (Panic at the Big Snow. Pun!)

It was beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

Once upon a time I was extremely delinquent and failed to record things that happened for nearly a month.  (Actually, given the date, it’s been over a month.)  Forgiveness?

            The week after Thanksgiving (yes, this is where my tale picks up), I started tutoring.  I once had a small group (aka 2 people) from Nicole’s Terminale ES spé (a group that gets extra English time) class.  I actually wrote about the two girls specifically (Anaïs and Charlène).  Anyway, Charlène asked me if I was available to tutor her and her sister.  Naturally, I’ve got nothing else to do and I’m always looking to make some cash money and so I agreed.  She asked me for my phone number so that her mom could call me.  Whooooooops.  I still hadn’t memorized my phone number as I’m obvio not giving it out very often.  So I told her my embarrassment and she told me to call around 6/7 that night.  I finally worked up my courage to coordinate this thing (since her mom doesn’t speak English) and made the call.  Well, Charlène knew it was me as said, “En fait, ma mère n’est pas là.”  (In fact, my mom’s not here.)  So she said her mom would call me back.  Panic attack when the phone rang on my end.  She asked how much I’d be charging.  Had briefly asked myself the same question beforehand but hadn’t actually come up with an answer so I said, “I don’t know” and made a mental note to figure out my life.  Then she asked if I had anywhere that I could tutor them.  Uhhhh since I figured my bedroom/the only place I have any right to claim was out of the question, I told her “Eeuuuuhhhh.  Je ne sais pas.”  (Uuuuhhhh.  I don’t know.)  She totes rolled with my pathetic punches and said I could work at the girls’ grandmother’s house and that I could just meet up with Charlène and her sister (Aubane) after school on Tuesday and we’d go from there. 

            Then I went to Maryse’s for the weekend.  (Rememberrr?)

            On Tuesday I waited until 4pm (actually more like 4:02 because I have never felt more uncomfortable than waiting in front of a French high school when I am a teacher.  Someday I’ll grow up, I promise.) and went on out.  Welp, since I had no idea what Aubane looks like, I took a quick look around to see if I recognized anyone.  Nope!  So I awkwardly stood outside the gates trying to look totes nonchalant.  Jokes.  I’m sure I looked 100% chalant.  After about 2 seconds (aka if I had looked for have a moment longer, I would have been successful), Charlène came up and said she was standing on the corner with her friends (all my favorites from my classes, I might add). 

            So she introduced me to Aubane and said she had math class but that she’s arrive at 5 for her lesson.   Aubane and I set off.  Now, I don’t know about you, but I wasn’t familiar with Aubane as a name so I basically made many efforts to avoid saying her name as we tried to muddle through a conversation.  She’s not comfortable speaking English, and I’m okay with my French but as I was to be tutoring her in English, I thought it prudent to force it out of her.  Hmmmmm…  I asked how old she was.  She told me what year she was in.  I accepted it as an answer even though I have only a vague idea of which school years correspond to which ages.  So after a minute in silence after her response, I tried again.  I tried in English.  And when she just nodded, I asked in French.  Success. Aubane is 13.  We went to her mom’s place of work so we could figure out the rest of the details (meaning my pay).  Their mom works at a beauty salon/spa.  I told her it would be 25€ total/week.  This seemed fair since I had asked Camille (a French teacher who lives in the internat—and when I say French I mean both her nationality and her subject.  Tricky tricky tricky.) how much to charge, she said that for an older student (aka Terminale aka Charlène) it could be 20€.  That seemed exorbitant for a small town like this, so I made up a number.  (Also, Belley is supposedly not a small town.  It just feels that way without transportation.)

            She coughed up the dough even before I had started and then sent me and Aubane on our way to chez their grand-mère.  Did I mention that their grandma runs one of the patisseries in Belley?  Well, she does.  And so as soon as we walked in, I was offered cake.  Have I met my dream match?  I said no, though, because I’m idiot.  They looked lost and so offered me chocolates.  Well, alright, I said.  Sometimes I’m just so put upon. 

            We went into the back and up the stairs to the apartment and set to work.  It was alright overall.  A bit difficult, though, as I felt like I had to review some of the basics that hadn’t been discussed in her class.  It seems like these classes sometimes rely too much on memorization instead of giving rules so that things actually make sense.  Aubane was learning about agreement and disagreement.  But for one reason or another, the teacher only calls it accord and desaccord.  So during the session, as I kept on saying “this agrees” or “it disagrees,” I kept getting blank looks.  Or, rather, looks that suggested comprehension but then no response.  So it’s a slow journey but I thought it went okay.

            Then Charlène came home and I switched to her lesson.  Much smoother, obvio, since we already knew each other.  She was in the process of learning how to use connecting words in essays like according to, by means of, because of, etc.  It’s a nice challenge for me because I have to think about ways to give her tricks to remember how to use the words.  Sometimes it’s as simple as giving her the translation in French, but other times it’s a bit more complicated. 

            At the end, she asked me to make worksheets for her and her sister for the next time.  Then she walked me downstairs and I made the short walk home.  It was snowing. 

la neige!

It snowed all through the night.  When I went to school the next day, it was like being there during the grève.  Since maybe 60-75% of the students come by bus, one would think that since they cancelled the buses because of the snow, they would also cancel school.  Nope!  (Also did I ever mention how they are brought by coach buses?  I told one of my groups how fancy they are.  Then they told me how they dream of going to school on a yellow school bus.  I told them that was ridiculous, because their busses are way classy.  But they insisted.)  On the other hand, though, if a teacher is sick or if he/she takes a vacation day, the class is cancelled.  So I went to my classes and was not surprised to have no students sent to me.
           Since it was Wednesday, I went to lunch with the surveillants (the people who watch the students who live at the internat) where they have a dessert club.  Again, my people.  I think I forgot to mention that I started doing this.  The week of Thanksgiving, I went to dinner at the cantine on Tuesday to eat with them.  At the end, this woman Marion invited me to eat with them on Wednesday as each week someone brings dessert for sharing.  Naturally, I jumped at the opportunity.  So now I try to do dinner on Tuesdays with them and lunch on Wednesdays.  It’s basically all the younger teachers at the lycée (including Marc).  I feel special. 

            The cantine is usually pretty dead on Wednesdays since French schools have ½ days on Wednesdays (don’t know why), but that day was especially so.  Marc just kept saying, “C’est la panique!”  (I’m not translating that.)  He was right.  But also not because considering Belley is pretty surrounded by mountains, I wouldn’t want to be driving a bus in the snow (that was continuing to fall) either. 

            I spent the afternoon watching stuff online.  Because as much as I like the snow (which is honestly not a whole heck of a lot.  Call me a product of my upbringing.), I like it waaay more looking at it through a window. 

            The next day saw a return of normal buses.  So the school was full again.  As I sat in the teacher’s lounge, snowballs were thrown at the window from outside.  Muriel stood on the bench to yell outside to tell the kids to stop.  They did for a spell.  Then thwack another one burst on the glass.  Nicole, incensed at this point (though I found it kind of funny), yelled out, “Tu veux un coup de main!?” (You need some help!?)  Then it stopped for realsies. 

            After my classes ended (around 12), I hustled to do my laundry at the laverie at the school because that mess is FREE and FINALLY not en panne!  Success.  I took a seat and waited for my laundry.  Wow.  It took way longer than I had expected.  Probably about 2.5 hours.  So the woman was all, next time, you can just leave your stuff here and come back in 2 hours.  Heck yes. 

Interdit/Forbidden.
Also, candy cane.

         Then I hustled to get to the library to return my books.  What was I thinking?  I completely forgot that the library isn’t open on Thursdays.  No matter, says me to myself.  I’ll just put them in the drop box.  No.  I wouldn’t.  Because it was blocked off.  So, because I think I’m so slick, I crossed over the red and white tape and tried to put my books in the box.  No dice.  The openings were taped up.  Apparently when it snows, the snow will fall off the roof and would land plop on top of the drop box.  I guess it’s a liability issue.  It would certainly make sense to me, then, to move the box to a place that would be accessible regardless of elements.  But I’m a dreamer.  Or am I a logician?  There was another woman who came up just after me and I was all, “C’est bloqué.”  Then these two French women just going for a walk in the snow came up and were all, “That’s why it’s taped up.”    And SO full of smarm.  Thanks, rudes.  Sometimes I just think I’m above the law.

Snow balls? (Boules de neige?)

            So I went to the market and dropped off my recyclables and got some grubs.  All the while, though, I was trying to hustle my bustle because my momz was to be arriving at 6 pm! 

            And around 9, she made it.

            Cliffhangingly,

                        Jessica