I had my first serious behavior issue this week in class. At one of my schools, Deconinck, I was with all of the 5emes this week. They are about 12 years old or so and still young enough to be kind of adorable. However, they were all terribly behaved this week. I took each class in two groups and tried to do an oral activity about "what do you have in your room? Have you got a bed in your room?" However to review for the activity which uses "have got" I asked them to conjugate "have got" on the board in it's three forms. The full form. I have got. You have got. He has got. and so on. The condensed form. I've got. You've got. And negative. I haven't got. You haven't got. And taught them that I say "I have" in place of "I have got." Because why use an extra stupid word. They asked me what got meant and I couldn't explain it to them. I also tried to teach them the negative. I don't have. He doesn't have. Just to show that there is a different way to say it and not everyone speaks like the english. Even though their teachers want them to speak this way. However, the majority of the classes couldn't do it. They told me that they haven't learned it yet, although they learned it at the beginning of the year. Some kids put up "I aren't" for the full form. Which is the wrong verb, in negative and incorrect for the subject. So this part of the lesson, which was just the warm up took some time.

I have learned to not yell at them anymore to be quiet. I've learned to be quiet myself. Just stand at the front of the class. Stare at them. Or at my watch. This has proven to be quite effective. But this week they were all so squirrely. They couldn't stop moving or talking. My classroom is down a flight from theirs, so we have to walk down, and then back up again when we are done. And I plead, I beg them to be quiet for the 30 seconds that it will take. Impossible. It got to the point where I had to tell one class that their behavior was so bad that if it didn't improve then I wouldn't come to work with them. I think they got it, but they continued to chat away.

So my last day this week, last class. Took the first half. Told them a few things. That they should know how to conjugate "have got" because it's a review. That they should make a little effort. That most of the other groups didn't even get to the planned activity because they weren't capable of doing the warm up. That I've had lots of issues with behavior this week. And that I wasn't sure if I would come back to their class if it continued. That they needed to respect not only me when I'm speaking, but their fellow classmates as well.

AAAAND they were chatty the entire time. But they knew the material and they were able to answer the questions so it wasn't that bad. I took the next half of the class and told them the same thing. They. were. completely. silent. The whole time I talked. They raised their hands politely and quietly to be called up to the board. They stayed quiet while their classmates wrote on the board. They listened. It was creepy quiet. Until I heard a crinkling from the girls in front of my desk. Took the garbage can over to them. Because obviously it was candy. This girl looking at my with her hand over her mouth trying to hide it. She spits it out. only half. I hold it back out to her and she puts her head further into the garbage can to "pretend" to spit the rest out. I decide to deal with it after class and continue on with the lesson. I turn to ask her a question. And she sits there, hand over her mouth again, trying to manipulate the candy so that she can answer the question. Hold the garbage can out. Again. She finally spits it all out.

Continue on again. Turn to a boy in the front row to ask him a question but he is UNDER his desk. So I lean over to ask him the question and there he is, looking up at me with a sucker in his mouth. Front row.  Under his desk. Eating a sucker. So i stand up, take his carnet de correspondance (which is this little book that you can write punishments in, where their absences are, anything else) and throw it onto my desk. And just stand there with my arms crossed looking at him. He finally sits up. Deer in headlights. And after a while I finally said very firmly (not yelling at all. because that doesn't work. and all in french. because he wouldnt understand otherwise.) "That is disrespectful. I am a teacher. Would you do that to your teacher?" he nods no. "Why would you do it to me?" Staring. he sits. The other kids tell him to throw away the sucker, which he finally does. "I don't want to be strict like your other teachers. I want us to have fun when we are together. I want us to do activities that you like and that you are interested in and i want you all to improve your english." and then i just sat and stared and was so upset. "i am very angry."

it was really disappointing to realizes how they don't respect me. That is something they would never do to their teachers. And it just proves that they don't see me as a teacher. They barely listen to anything i say anyways.

And it made me realize that i dont think i can be a teacher. This kid almost cried. They got in a lot of trouble. And then i felt guilty. oops.

I had the best meal of my life last weekend in Paris. We went to this "trendy" restaurant down by the Centre Pompidou called "OZO." Sweet decorations, low lights, hip music and a table in the corner behind a curtain! We all felt very fancy. The restaurant was full and it took a while for someone to come take our order, but that was ok because it took a long time to decide what we were going to have. The way they served the food was very interesting. You had 3 steps to go though. 1. Pick your meat! chicken, duck, beef, ostrich, salmon, squid, lotte and another fishy type. 2. Pick how to cook it! 6 different spice mixes or 3 different sauces. 3. Pick 2-4 sides! 5 cold ones and 4 hot ones! The wait for our food was not very long at all, considering how busy they were.

My dinner was one of those dinners where you just sigh with contentment while you eat. We ordered a bottle of wine to split between the four of us, but I honestly forgot about it, I was too busy enjoying my dinner to drink the wine!

So starting at the meat and moving clock-wise. Faux filet de boeuf cuit saignant avec une sauce bleu, salade, mâche avec des aubergines marinée et glace des cêpes, crème des patates douces avec des baies rouges, flan de carottes, poireaux et bébé asperges, pommes de terres écrasés. Translation: beef sirloin cooked medium rare with bleu cheese sauce with mushrooms and nuts and raisins, salad, lamb's lettuce with marinated eggplant and MUSHROOM ICECREAM ON TOP!!!! yum. Puréed sweet potatoes with red pepper corns, carrot, leek and baby asparagus tarty thing, mashed potatoes. 

followed by dessert. A fruit gazpacho with mangoes, raspberries and cinnamon served with homemade yogurt. oh. food. coma. 

It was one of those meals that you didn't want to eat because you wanted it to never end. I ate so slowly, not wanting it to be gone! 

Also while in Paris I went to see this. Christian Boltanski at le Grand Palais. I highly reccomend looking at the site, i think it comes in english too. Because its hard to describe exactly what it was. The past 3 years le Grand Palais has invited an artist to create a special exhibit made specially for the space. This year was Boltanski and what he created was amazing. We went on Sunday night, and I'm glad we went at night, i feel like the experience wouldn't have been the same. The Grand Palais is this BEAUTIFUL old building with a glass roof. so all the light comes in. 

You walk into the space and directly in front of you is a wall that spans on either side of you. It is a tall wall, made out of rusted metal boxes with numbers on them. But before you even see the wall, you hear the noise. A chorus of heart-beats. This noise that surrounds you and is inside of you. And on top of those noises you hear this mechanic whirrrrrrrr. Once you get around the corner you realize what it is. 

In the very back you can see the wall you walk around. Then you are greeted by this. A mountain of clothes. The whirrr whirr is a crane which is continuously grabbing clothes, lifting them up, and letting them fall. But before you get to the mountain of clothes, there are 69 neat little squares, all made up of coats on the ground spread out before you and to your sides. Each square of coats has four posts all around it with cables between them which connect in the middle to hold a light over the center of each square. And for each square there is a speaker and out of that speaker comes a different heart beat. As you walk among the squares, the sound of the heart beats surrounds you and fills you as a mix. But if you pause at a square for long enough, you can pick out that specific heart beat. Then you continue walking on again and that heart beat gets blurred by all the rest. Its hard to describe exactly what I felt or thought about during this time here, but I had goose-bumps the entire time and just felt very quiet. Except for the part when we walked up to the mezzanine to get a better look at the pile of clothes and walking back down the elegant stairs I pretended that I was a princess at a ball. it was hard not to.

Check out those royal stairs! 

Another thing about this was it was cold. No heat. you could see your breath. In addition to the exhibition, the artist had another part to it. Les archives du coeur. The heart archives. He is in the process of collecting recordings of heart beats. We "donated" our heart beats to his collection. Our heart beats will be put in a "library" of heart beats that will be kept on Teshima, a japanese island where anyone can go to the library, look up my name, and listen to 20 seconds of my heart beat. And it will be there "forever." kind of neat. 

choo-choo

This past weekend on the train to and from Paris, I had two of my worst nightmares come true.

#1 On the way there, Thursday evening I step into the ladies room/teeny toilet closet to do my business. I finish, soap up my hands, and then put them under the faucet, to wash them. On the trains, the faucets are those automatic ones, and these seem to have an especially long delay from the time you put your hand under to the time the water actually comes out. You can hear the noise it makes when it tries to squirt the water. It doesn't come out in streams. It comes out in squirts. But there is always this split second when I am waiting for the water to come out where a thought crosses my mind "the water isnt going to work and I'm going to be stuck with soap hands." So there I am, hands all soapy, gooey waving my hand under the faucet. I hear the sound. And...no water. I can actually feel a burst of air on my hands. Because obviously they are out of water. Go across the hall to the other bathroom, same thing. So I wipe the soap off of my hands and continue on my travels.

#2 On my way back to Dunkerque Monday afternoon with my friend Stephanie, I again step into the ladies room to grab some TP since I am out of keenex. Empty. Across the hall. Empty. One car down. Empty. Two cars down. Empty. One car up. Empty. and so on until I've walked just about the entire train and now have a few sheets of pink TP that feels like sand paper and I can finally blow my nose so that I can breathe.

these are a few of my favorite things:

1. sitting in my kitchen up against the heater, reading a book
2. not having a car/needing to walk everywhere
3. 12 year old boys who should "i love you" when i walk through the halls. it makes me feel nice.
4. immersion blender = endless soup possibilities
5. Marriage Frères Marco Polo tea
6. cheese n apples
7. wire tap pod cast on the train
8. newspaper via the interweb in the morning
9. christmas lights still up
10. boullion rice. 
11. herbes de provence- good for everything

the rest of december

I came back to Dunkerque for a few days after Christmas to escape the craziness of Paris before going back again for New Years. I returned home to find a lovely surprise. A letter from Iceland Air saying that although the search for my bag has yet to be successful they have decided to refund me, despite the lack of proof of purchase for the items in my bag a whopping 800 euros. Merry Christmas. As much as i still wish they had found my bag, im glad for this to be over with, to have a little safety money, and to not worry that i wont have enough money to come home!

As lounging in bed one morning, not quite awake, i heard my favorite sound: the 'swish' of mail under my door. So up! I popped and ran to the door to find a lovely little pile of Christmas cards from my dearest friends. A few of them birdy themed. It was so nice! Thank you!

those dang americans

Then back to Paris for New Years. I am very sorry to say (sorry Momma) that I had WAYYY too much to drink. Oops. I did not give Americans a good reputation that night, nor myself. We were outside, walking and waiting for everyone to meet up until about 5 minutes to midnight.

moi, constance et caro

real sweaty from dancing

Danced a lot! Which was the best part. And the rest was just too much. And i was punished by the worst day of my life the next day. I was very sad and very sorry. But i did get to see my friend Matt and catch up and gossip and complain about the lives of assistants.

Got to go to le centre pompidou for the first time ever, saw some interesting exhibits. Walked around the city. ATE DELICIOUS THAI FOOD. finally.

And now back to home. Snow on the ground. Students who dont know "and" in english. But im really happy to be here, and in my comfy bed, in my comfy apartment, making soup and lounging around. Its nice to have some time alone, to get used to it again.

this is hopping around and disjointed, but i think everything is there. now im caught up and will keep caught up.

annual sales have started. Once i receive my check i will 1) buy running shoes! 2) and a yoga mat to take a yoga class 3) some clothes of course

and today im buying yarn and taking up crocheting again.

decemberishhhh

I returned to Paris from Noirmoutiers on Wednesday before Christmas. After the 5 hour drive back I just….well relaxed some more. It was really very nice to finally have a vacation that was really a vacation from everything. Before it was just a vacation from school, I was always working. So I finally really relaxed and did just about nothing and it was perfect. Christmas Eve-day was spent doing last minute shopping. C.R.A.Z.Y. There were so many people in the streets and in the stores, so much more than usual. I went to “Les Grands Magasins” Galleries Lafayette and Printemps. And I felt so poor. Oh my gooooodness. Popped into the Chanel store and looked at a teeny-tiny little fabric flower that was 450 Euros!  I have never seen anything like this sort of luxury before. Watches and jewelry for a couple thousand Euros. And people were actually buying these things! The store itself was incredibly beautiful. Galleries Lafayette had an amazing Christmas tree in the middle, 7 or 8 stories high and an indescribable dome at the top.  The stores also had these amazing window displays. With moving parts and music. That people just come by to look at them, the children squished up against the windows, standing on the steps put in front of the windows just for them. Like driving around to look at Christmas lights in your neighborhood. But different.

Christmas was spent eating. I was a little worried about spending it with a family that I didn’t know that well, but they were more than welcoming to me. Grandpa, Dad and I were all wearing the same shade of purple. Grandpa insisted that I sat next to him, always kept my wine glass full (of oh so good wine made by their family) and we talked about Woody Allen films. They were very accommodating to my “special dietary needs,” making me a little plate of veggies to dip in the dips instead of bread. Guacamole.  On. Christmas. Cucumber-y dippy dip.  And something that starts with a T with salmon eggs in it. Oysters followed.  We had shucked them earlier. And I really am a oyster-opening queen. Not taking into consideration that I was the only one with a real oyster knife and everyone else used flimsy steak knives…. But it was a lot of fun, a whole bunch of us around the kitchen table with a basket full of oysters in front of us. In about 10 minutes they were all ready. Grandpa kept pushing me to eat more oysters. But they were very big and hard to handle for me. Still very good. Then Beef Stroganoff for dinner. And rice for me since they knew that I couldn’t have pasta. But I tried the fresh pasta that they had and it was so much better than anything in a box ever. On to the cheese, which I don’t mind eating without bread. It is still wonderful. Grandpa passed me some and then someone yelled out how I couldn't have it and he took it back. Then I made a big mistake. Someone else passed me the baguette to set on the table behind me and I set it down with out looking and everyone started yelling and hollering. I had put it down the wrong way. Top side down. oops. Something to do with the devil and evil. Grandpa told me all about it. Oops! And desert. Homemade macrons and coconut puffs. But more importantly: Presents before desert. Everyone gathered around, “Santa” passed around the presents and all at once everyone ripped in. I was so surprised and so lucky that they gave me gifts. I was very touched. They had been so welcoming to me and it was more than I could have asked for. Then after dinner the table got pushed off to the side and then we danced until 2am. To the Eagles. And lots of things. The only Christmas in my life that I didn’t hear Christmas music.

Grandpa Antoine, Cousin Pierre and Maman Bernadette getting shaky

papa Hervé and Ballou getting in on it too

me and Bernadette

            It was weird for me to not be with my family and not really feel like Christmas. I didn’t ever really get that “fuzzy, warm Christmas feeling” that usually comes around every year. But it doesn’t mean that I didn’t enjoy it. Because I had so much fun. It was great being with this big, loving French speaking family. And to hear how they act with each other. The way that they tease and make fun. And the way it’s the same that my family does it too.