Facepalm

There are many things in this country, just little things mind you, that really make no sense whatsoever. Here I am trying to exit from the C line at the Hôtel de Ville stop here in Lyon:

I would like to meet the designer/architect of this particular stop and ask: you couldn't possibly think of or find a better way of placing those supports? Really?

Just to update everyone really quickly: I'm officially on Christmas break for the next two weeks but I have no big plans. I'm trying to save up some money for my winter break in February. I'm thinking visiting both Corsica and Madrid, but we'll see. Other than that, it's snowing here which is really pretty and nice - I was honestly expecting just rain this season. A pleasant surprise to be sure! It's too bad I woke up this morning with a sore throat and a small fever. Oh well. It's more of an excuse to just stay in and do nothing :) Oh and I bought myself a cheap guitar the other day. It's not a great guitar by any means, but I'd been missing playing it these past few weeks.

12 days til x-mas.

Yesterday I received a christmas package from my Mother. She went too far and spent $42.50 sending my a box filled with items I’ve been needing: socks, underwear, a new pair of gloves, burt’s bees along with surprises like candy and a new, super-warm sweater. Not only did she go through the trouble of buying and mailing everything, but she had wrapped everything in wrapping paper. I almost got teary eyed when I opened the box and saw all the wrapped presents and read the wonderful note she wrote in a card. It made me realize how much I’m going to miss my family on Christmas and how much I loved them all.

My roommate’s daughter, Alicia got excited when she saw all the presents in the box and was like, “Is all that for you?!” She then proceeded to take out a present at a time handing them to me saying, “OK, now open this one.”

Speaking of which, I babysat her the other night and she wanted to watch a movie on my computer so we started watching Mickey’s Christmas Carol - a film I would watch in my family every year it was shown on TV - and despite the fact that it was in English, she sat and watched the whole thing. It made me even more nostalgic for family gatherings. I’ve missed Christmases with my family before. One year I spent it with a former roommate and a friend of his whose mother drank a whole bottle of champagne by herself. That was an interesting experience. But something about this year, especially, makes me want to see them more than ever.

In other news, I’ve only got a week left of classes before break and I am surprised by how quickly time has passed. In my Christmas card, my Mom wrote, “This period of your life will come to an end soon so enjoy it while you have it.” Definitely wise words to live upon.

(PS: Here are some photos of me babysitting Alicia)

Kids Say the Darndest Things Part Deux

Oh little children! How your purity and innocence are merely veils hiding your true corrupt selves! Have I got a few stories for you all today. Somehow they all deal with my 6 to 7 year olds.

First, in one class a couple weeks ago, I was using flash cards with pictures of various simple objects like animals and articles of clothing on them and my students had to tell me the English word. On each card was written the first letter in English that the word started with. So for example, for ‘Umbrella’ there was a picture of an umbrella and a big U under it. Everything was going smoothly until we got to cow. The kids looked at the card and starting mumbling the letter C to themselves. “C...C...C...” and then somehow the collective consciousness veered 3/4ths of the class to yell out “Sex!” I’m still confused to this day as to why.

Then in another class a girl asked me, “How do you say homosexuel in English?” I blinked, looked at her confusingly and asked her to repeat her question. Surely she didn’t ask me what I thought she said. She repeated her question again and sure enough it was what I’d heard the first time. So reluctantly, I replied, “Homosexual” to which one of her neighbors pipped up and said, “Yes, that’s the word we’re asking you. But how do you say it in ENGLISH?” (sigh...)

Finally in yet another class the little brats were acting horribly and I couldn’t get them to calm down and listen and finally at one point I raised my voice and said, “Will you please sit down and quiet down! You just run around and you never listen!” Then, the smartass of the class, Etienne, placed his finger behind his ear and sarcastically said, “Quoi?” If it wasn’t one of the funniest moments I ever experienced, I probably would have sent him in the hall. But come on; that was good.

Of Handturkeys and French Zombies

After a weird mini heatwave, Lyon has cooled down and I’m back in my winter coat and hat. Winters in France are very mild compared to North America, but they can really make you feel depressed if you’re not prepared. It never really snows here unless you’re in the mountains, and the sun rarely shows its face. it’s just gray, cloudy, rainy and sunlight begins fading just as soon as it’s starting. Nonetheless, happiness and comfort can be found stopping into a café on a cold and wet day, ordering a mulled wine and just staring at the wet, gray world revolving outside the window. Wrapping your hands around the warm glass and letting your thoughts drift away with the sound of cars passing by, splashing up water and the hydraulic hiss of city busses braking.

Thanksgiving came and went and if I hadn’t given lessons on the history of the holiday to my students all last week I just may have completely over-looked it. I did host a rather successful dinner on Thanksgiving day. There was me, three other Americans, a Frenchie and a Brit. We feasted on turkey filets, red-skin mashed potatoes, gratin and uncongealed cranberry sauce, watched tacky 80s music videos and reveled in conversations mutating from one random topic to another.

As I mentioned before, I gave lessons on the history of Thanksgiving and also let them draw and color hand turkeys which was something I could tell they really enjoyed doing. I let them be as imaginative and creative as possible with their drawings after being reminded at how much the French education system seems to suppress creative thinking. I experienced this when I went to the school here (I’m reminded now how it was a large reason why I didn’t continue my studies here after high school) and ever since I’ve been teaching here, it is starting to aggravate me that these kids need to be told every little thing what to do. For example, whenever I write something on the board, the kids copy it down to a t. Hell, they even copy my handwriting! No joke. None. Kids are taught to write in cursive as soon as 1st grade here and the teachers are very strict about everyone writing letters the same way. So whenever I write something in my sloppy, cursive/block letter hybrid, they write the letters as exactly as is written on the board. I’m like, “No! My handwriting is hideous, write the letters like you normally would!” They’re also huge fans of underlining. They love to pull out their rulers and red pens and underline important information. There are times I’ll be teaching them how to correctly pronounce a word and I’ll just inadvertently underline the word to accentuate sounds or syllables and sure enough, I see a dozen rulers being pulled our and underlining what I just did. I’ll also just write stuff on the board anywhere I can find a spot and either I get asked if they should skip a line, two lines, above, below, two squares from the margin, start a new page. I even had one kid freak out on me and raising his hand when he ran out of room at the bottom of the page and wouldn’t be able to write something under a sentence like I had written on the board. I had to literally tell him to start a new page.

So in short not only is it aggravating and a waste of time, but it breaks my heart to see such bright, smart and funny kids slowly transgress themselves into dependent robots. I now understand why it’s so hard to people in this country to think outside the box or exert some kind of effort into getting something done. They’re taught from a young age to do exactly as they’re told and when that guiding hand isn’t there then they feel there’s nothing they’re responsible for doing. You see this all the time at government offices where you need to bring and sign specific documents for whatever and if you don’t have exactly what they need, they freak out and don’t know how to work around it. My step-father also found it frustrating working with the French when he lived here because nothing would get done unless they were given specific instructions.

But I will say this in their favor: it’s been quite a breath of fresh air to see kids with some backbone. I can’t recall the amount of times in the States I’ve heard kids this age cry or whine or complain because of the stupidest things. Like falling, or a kid saying something they didn’t like, or losing at a game. They’re so used to Mommy and Daddy coming to the rescue and making everything better, they can’t defend themselves. Here I’ve seen kids fall flat on their faces and get up without a tear. If someone loses they just go “Ah, non!” and move on with their lives. Hell even if a kid ever does start throwing a fit, the other kids look at him/her and flat out tell them, “Crying isn’t going to help anything.” Of course this is a country where spanking a child is a totally acceptable method of child-rearing - and I’ve seen kids here in public get hit pretty hard on the tush. Am I condoning such actions? No, but damn, there really has got to be a middle ground.

Lyonnais Sunset

Captured this today (click to enlarge):

Feel the Velo'v

You may have heard about the awesome public bicycle rental service in Paris known as Vélib’. BUT did you know that the idea actually started in Lyon with its Velo’v* rental service in 2005...2 years before Paris copied it and people went gaga over it. What can I say...Lyon is awesome.

But then again, maybe you have no idea what the hell I am talking about. If that’s the case, I’ll explain. All around Lyon are stations (343 to be exact) that contain racks of bicycles that are electronically guarded and controlled. With a daily, weekly or yearly subscription, one is able to rent a bike at any of these stations. The rates vary depending on the length of the subscription you have, but this document explains it pretty well:

I personally get the first hour free and to be honest I never use it for anymore time than that. The service comes in handy after late night excursions downtown and the metro is closed, or perhaps you have an emergency to attend a mile away and waiting for a bus won’t cut it. All you have to do is go up to a station and do this:

I was originally thinking about buying my own bicycle - or even bringing my own from the states - but I stopped looking when I realized that I have all the benefits of a bicycle without the hassle of worrying about it getting stolen or vandalized. Granted, they’re not the lightest or sharpest looking machines, but with a 3-speed Shimano Nexus hub, front and rear drum brakes, front and rear full fenders, bell, front basket and built in lock for the quick stops, they get the job done. I wouldn’t use them in a race or to do cross country biking in, but European urban cycling? Sign me up.

* Vélo'v is a portmanteau of the French word "Vélo" meaning bicycle and the English word "Love"

Kids Say the Darndest Things

I’ve had a few hilarious encounters with the munchkins lately. In one class we were doing “Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes” and when I got to ‘Mouth’ I took my index finger, circled it around my mouth and repeated the English word a few times. Then a kid asked me outloud, “So mouth means beard in English?”

I had a group of 1st graders today who were curious about my beard, pulling it and asking me, “Why don’t you shave?”. I just shrugged my shoulders and said, “Because.” But then one girl yelled out, “Because he’s Santa Claus!”

With a different group of 1st graders, we were playing Duck, Duck, Goose, except in French it’s called Tomate, Ketchup. So in France, kids tap you on the head going “Tomato, tomato, tomato...” and when they want to pick you, they say, “Ketchup!”. Then if you get caught and you’re supposed to go in the pot, they yell over and over, “A la soupe! A la soupe!” (In the soup! In the soup!). Needless to say, having a bunch of 6 year olds screaming out loud to you to get in the soup is, at the same time, totally adorable and totally frightening.

I also played a color game with the smaller kids where they’re split up in two groups and the group that guesses correctly the most colors in English the fastest wins. So I get to white and I hold up a white block and this 6 year old up front, who is obviously getting really excited, yells out - in English - “FUCK!”.

His team didn’t win.

Chez Moi

Here's a quick video of my apartment.

Vacation Already?!

The one nice thing about France is all the vacation time they get! Especially as a teacher! I am currently on the Toussaint (All-Saints) vacation which lasts between the 24th of October to the 5th of November. After that, we have Christmas Vacation (December 19th to January 4th), Winter vacation (February 13th to March 1st) and finally Spring Vacation (April 10th to April 26th)

I spent my Toussaint vacation in Paris, hanging out with Ashley before she shipped back to the States. She continued giving English lessons before her departure so I found I had a lot of free time on my hands. I’ve been to Paris so many times before in the past, that there really isn’t anything there for me to see that I haven’t seen before. At least, I thought that was true until I happened to see a metro map of Paris and realized that Versailles was only an hour ride away on the RER C line. All this time I’ve been here and I thought you had to drive to get there. Ashley had an afternoon full of lessons one day so I packed my bag and headed to the former home of the French royal family.

As I suspected, the place is a giant tourist magnet, the likes of which rival the Louvre or the Eiffel Tower. While I’m happy I finally crossed that place off of my to-see list, I can’t help but say that the whole experience left a very funny taste in my mouth. For starters, the castle was built by Louis the 14th in the 17th century with the purpose of moving the capital away from Paris and to help take power away from the nobles by making them spend time at his cool, new pad and in the end declare himself complete ruler of France. Well, there were also a bunch of people in his kingdom starving and dying of disease, so the fact that the “Sun King” spent a grotesque amount of money for his own selfish desires instead of his people just makes the whole palace seem like such a giant waste of resources.

Back to the present day, I bought my ticket and did the tour complete with my portable audio-guide and while the gilded woodwork, the tapestries, the antiques and the paintings were all wonderful and beautiful, they didn’t excite me. I felt like I could have been walking through the Decorative Arts section of the Louvre - something I’ve done more than my fair share of. Have you also ever noticed how annoying tourists can be? It’s not so much that people traveling to places that annoys me; it’s the whole tourist mindset that disturbs me. If visiting a country or city becomes a checklist of things to do, where’s the enjoyment in that? Likewise, why do people take so many photographs or videos during their trips? At Versailles, for example, everyone was crowding in a bedroom, pushing people to take a photo, holding cameras above people’s heads. What’s the point of taking these horrible, terribly exposed, poorly composed photos when there have got to be better photographs taken by pros with professional equipment of the same room somewhere online. Again, the waste.

If there was one positive thing I got out of Versailles, it was the adjacent gardens which were GIGANTIC (1,976 acres!!) Not to mention it was 100% cheaper than the tour of the castle. The thing is practically a city park, and had I more time or a friend to walk around with, I would have definitely stayed until past dark.

The rest of the trip was merely a 12 day sojourn in which I did nothing any of you would be interested in hearing about. I ate, cleaned, wrote, drank wine, walked, watched some TV, etc etc. A real vacation in my opinion. But now I’m back in Lyon, all of my stuff is unpacked and I’m ready to start a new chapter in my visit here. The future is definitely hazy, but it sure looks promising.

Who's the Boss? (Madame est Servie)

So I’ve left the family I’ve been living with and I have moved into an apartment on the complete opposite side of town. Now that I’m gone I feel more comfortable going into detail about the living situation I have been dealing with for the past two weeks. Back at the beginning, it was originally agreed that I could live and eat with them for free in exchange for looking after the 12 year-old daughter between the hours that the daughter got back from school and when the mother came home from work. It was first conveyed to me that these hours would be between 5 and 7 pm Monday through Friday. Saturdays and Sundays I would have to myself. I was also asked to give the daughter some English lessons from time to time. I thought to myself, “Hey this isn’t so bad, maybe this can work.” We did a 15 day trial and it went downhill from day one.

First, the mother doesn’t come home at 7. She comes home anytime between 7:30 and 8:30. After I’d moved in the mother then told me that there might be one evening a week where she would like to maybe hang out with a friend and that I would be ‘asked’ to babysit the kid. Umm...ok. Then she told me she has Tai Chi lessons on Wednesday nights so I was ‘asked’ to stay here for that. Next, the daughter also has Judo lessons on Tuesday nights from 6:45 to 8:15 and I was ‘asked’ to drop her off and pick her up - or even bring a book if I felt so inclined to stay and watch! Yippee. Then they found out I could play guitar and the mother ‘suggested’ that I give her guitar lessons. In short the responsibilities started piling up and it didn’t take much more for me to decide that I was leaving as soon as I could. However things reached a bizarre climax last Tuesday when I was in my room working and the mother called me down for dinner. When I walked downstairs she approached me, basically cornering me, and said that she didn’t feel like I was doing my part, that I was in my room a lot, that this is not what she was expecting from me - or something like that. I wish I could remember the exact words, but all I can recall is me nervously and continuously unbuttoning and buttoning my sleeves on my shirt. I started feeling awkwardly guilty and went straight to emptying the dishwasher and setting the table.

So. Yeah. I got the fuck out.

I have now moved into a new apartment in the Debourg neighborhood in the South-Eastern side of Lyon. I feel really luck to have found the place that I did. The same night the mother had a ‘word’ with me, I went to my room and immediately started looking up ads. My 20 day paid membership to appartager.com had expired so I was forced to see what I could scrounge up on the free websites. In my experience those ads go fast and they are few and far between. I saw a couple on lyonweb.net that were a few days old and I honestly didn’t think I had a chance in hell, but I wanted to feel productive so I replied anyway. To my surprise one wrote back and we scheduled a meet-up at the apartment. Despite my tardiness due to missing a bus and getting lost on the way, she greeted me kindly, offering beer and amicable conversation. Oh and her 5 year-old daughter threw up in her bed.

A couple days later, we both agreed to living together and here I am! It is a beautiful, modern apartment in a brand new building that is actually in Lyon (unlike the last place) and is walking distance from the Gerland soccer Stadium. I also have really enjoyable roommates. First there’s the woman I’ve been talking about: Aurélie, 33, who is currently going back to school for her diplôme petite enfance (Young Childhood Diploma) and who has been nothing but kind towards me. For example, she drove me to the family’s house to pick up my suitcases and bring them back to the apartment! And then she went to Ikea and picked up furnishings and wants me to look at the catalogue and pick out a desk for myself (!!!) So there’s us two and then our half roommate in the form of her daughter, Alicia, who stays with us every other week. Unlike the last place, I have no obligations towards the care of her child. So I get to play with the little squirt until I get sick of her and shoo her away to go back to my important adult activities. Like blogging. And soccer.

In conclusion, I don’t know what I did to deserve such an incredible turn of events, but after the debacle of these past few weeks, I am not complaining. Now I need to pack my stuff, because French schools are on vacation now and I’m heading out of town!

PS: Down below is an interactive map of my neighborhood. That building you see there is my new home!

View Larger Map

Epinal Sweet Epinal

At the age of 14, I moved to France and lived there for five years. When I tell people this story, they tend to immediately ask me where it was I lived. My usual answer is simply Strasbourg. It’s a straight forward and simple answer but it’s only 3/5ths true. The other 2/5ths of the truth is Epinal. My first taste of France. What is Epinal? It’s the Lancaster, Ohio of France.

I associate that town with what was probably the worst period of my life. Had I been able to speak more than 5 words of French before I arrived, I might have developed a more favorable attitude towards that city. But alas, I was dumped in the middle of nowhere France with zero knowledge of the French language, dumped in an all-French school with French kids who spoke as little English as I do Spanish. It became clear to me in those two years how important communication is for human beings. Not only is it important logistically like ordering a drink or telling members of your tribe where a herd of elk are frolicking. It is also crucial for us on such a primitive and raw level of human social interaction. If one can’t communicate, one feels isolated, alone, frustrated. Just look at the deaf community and the frustrations they describe in dealing with a world that takes spoken language for granted. I learned this lesson the first year I was in France. In Epinal. In truth, my time there was difficult but it must be said that it was a time of self-discovery and a serious exercise in patience and appreciation. If I could go back, I would definitely have told my younger self to study his French more instead of mopping around, but I wouldn’t have told him to head back to Ohio.

Back to the present day, I returned to Epinal this past weekend to pick up the bag I’d sent with my mom back in June. She and my step-father went on vacation with some friends they’re still in contact with who live in Epinal and handed the bag to them. It was then my responsibility to come and pick it up. Looking back, I probably should have really, really, skimped down on my packing and brought both bags with me. Mais bon. Coulda woulda shoulda. The trip was short, cold, and wet, but in the end, enjoyable. I was fed until the lining of my stomach was bursting, I saw a couple old friends whom I haven’t seen in over a decade, I took a tour of a local chocolatier and stuffed myself with chocolate. I walked around and saw what had changed. What hadn’t. I was also surprised by how nice people are here. I had gotten used to the French people you experience in Paris and in Lyon and it’s easy to forget that there are people who aren’t affected by the hustle and bustle of large city living. During the tour of the chocolate shop, people would kindly move out of the way to let other people get samples. They would pass the plate samples around and excuse themselves if they didn’t see you behind them. They’d hear my accent and ask where I was from and would get excited when they heard I was American and asked what in the world I was doing there. It seemed really refreshing and it made me wish more French people would be like that.

Perhaps a trip back may be in the works. But I would need a really good reason because, quite honestly, there’s still a lot of Europe I haven’t yet seen. Epinal? Been there, done that.

PanaTechniRamaVisionScope A.O. 70

I made a few panoramas today. Enjoy.

My posse

The air is getting brisk. The leaves are turning. Autumn is upon us and my winter clothes are still in Epinal. Gotta work on that...aka I'm freezing my couilles off.

Today's update is a quick one: a photo of my fellow English and German Lyon primary school assistants taken today at our orientation.

Employed/Homeless

So there’s been a lot of stuff happening since my last update. First let’s talk about the housing situation. En gros it’s been an absolute nightmare. I’ve found plenty of people advertising spaces or looking for roommates. I’ve visited a good number of places as well. The only problem is that nothing happens after that. Either they find someone they like better or they want half my salary for a room the size of a bathroom. Hell, one man even replied to me simply with, “I’m not interested.” I’m not the only one in the boat here. I know at least a half dozen other assistants who are still looking for housing and who, at the moment, are crashing at friends’, their principals’ place or, God forbid, the youth hostel. There was one individual who sent out a message on our Facebook group asking if he could crash with someone since he was sick of the hostel.

At least the public transportation system is up and running back to normal.

Continuing on, one of the principals I work with was kind enough to put up an ad inquiring if there were any families in the area with an extra room to house a foreigner. One such family came forward and we talked and I am now in the middle of a 15 day trial to see how everything fares. Here’s the gist: I am living and eating here for free in exchange for looking after the 12 year old daughter between the hours she gets out of school and the hours the mother returns from work (between 5 and 7/8pm). How is it going? Um...I’ll tell you at the end of the trial period.

I also started my first day of teaching. This past week I was just merely observing the classrooms and getting a better feel for the students and their level of English. I was amazed how comfortable I was in up there in the classroom. I wasn’t nervous or scared or worried; it just felt natural. Some of you know that I’ve already spent 2 years of my life teaching various subjects at this grade level so I feel as though...well...I have this one in the bag.

Casse-tête

I’ve sort of started working (I’m just observing classes at the moment) but I do have a better idea of how my year is going to play out so here are the facts: I’ll be making €786.54 a month after taxes ($1,146.46). I’ll have health insurance (thank you socialized medicine!). I work 12 hours a week. Four and a half hours are spread over 3 different elementary schools - Ecole Montessuy, Ecole Albrecht and Ecole Herriot - in a little suburb north of Lyon called Caluire-et-Cuire where I’ll be teaching CE2, CM1, CM2 (respectively 3rd, 4th and 5th grade). In each school, I’m to give two 45 minute English lessons in two different classes on Mondays and Thursdays. Do the math and you find that I have 6 different classes that see me once a week for 45 minutes. In addition to that, 6 hours a week are dedicated to me working in Lyon where I’ll be creating and aiding in the creation of audio-visual adult English tools. At least I think.

The latter half of my job is rather confusing so I’ll probably be revising what I’m writing right now but as it stands I have to work 180 hours with them between now and July 2nd. 124 of these hours are steady. We meet for 3 hours each week Tuesday afternoon where I’ll be meeting with my bosses and aiding them in creating audio-visual sequences aiding in the teaching of English as a foreign language*. These meetings will add up to 90 hours total. Then 18 hours will be spent doing Linguistic workshops on the following dates: October 14th, 21st, January 6th, 13th, March 10th, and 31st. My guess is that I’ll be speaking English to a bunch of adults in a classroom... but I’m not too sure. Then for 6 hours I’ll be working in an “Internship workshop” on April 7th and 28th (whatever that means). And finally I’ll be writing a monthly one-page newsletter on whatever topic I want. They gave me one hour for each newspaper so that adds up to 9 hours.

Is you head hurting yet? Now those are the STEADY hours. There are still 57 hours that are still up in the air and my bosses aren’t even sure when I’ll need to be there nor in what capacity. On the sheet they gave me, they noted “Participation in visual communication exchanges, or the application of new technologies in foreign language classes, time needed to prepare workshops, creation of resources: recordings etc..”

In short, it’s going to be a very interesting year and I’m sure my agenda book will be saturated with ink.

In other news, I’m still looking for a place to stay but things seem to be winding down and I think that I should have a place here really soon. (crosses fingers) More on that later when I actually have my clothes out of the suitcase.

*Did John goad the ox with a poker?

Things are getting hostel

This apartment hunting thing is proving to be harder than I thought it was going to be. So far, everything I’ve tried on craigslist, pap.fr and other such websites have dried up and/or have been rented out. I recently paid money for a website called appartager.com and even though I get a lot of leads, no one has replied to my requests. One went up last night, actually and I quickly called them but the lady on the other end told me, “Sorry, it was just taken.” Because I didn’t foresee this hunt to take so long, I only booked 3 nights in the hostel and there’s no room for me after that. Not that I want to stay here much longer anyway. I’ve been sharing a room with five other guys, two of whom snore like my grandmother and who think it’s a good idea to keep the windows closed all night long so it feels and smells like used, warm gym socks in the morning. Then there’re the showers that you have to hold a button down with one hand to get any water so you’ve got to rinse, soap, rinse, soap, rinse, etc. On top of that, there’s no hooks for a towel in one of the showers so my towel got all wet yesterday. :(

Oh and have I mentioned that the public transportation system is on strike here? Making it impossible to get anywhere quickly?

So now that I can’t rely on the hostel does this mean I will I be living out of a bus station locker? Nope. Luckily a friend from High School, Aliénor, lives in Lyon and has gladly invited me to stay at her place for a time. I’m happy that I at least have a roof over my head, but I’m at the point where I’m tired of living out of a suitcase and I would really like to get settled in now. Especially since I start work tomorrow.

That brings me to my next topic. Yesterday I got up bright and early and visited the schools I will be working in. I’ll go into more detail later since I have another meeting to go to this afternoon after which I’ll know more about my obligations so come back for that. I will say that after having visited the schools, I’m getting excited to start work and excited to begin this new adventure ahead of me.

Lyons and Tigers and Bears...

Vacation is over. I arrived in Paris about 10 days ago and I kicked off my shoes and let myself forget that I had to find an apartment or that I had to start working. Nope, I just let Ashley take me by the hand and show me around the Paris she lived in for two years. In short all we did was walk, watch Arrested Development and eat, eat, eat. Oh dear Lord we ate so much. Our last night was especially gourmand when after having spent €65 eating a 3 course meal with coffee, we headed directly to a bar and ran a €52.80 tab on beer. Empty wallets aside, it was probably our best evening that whole week.

It was just too bad that our bodies really hated themselves that next morning and there was a list of things I’d rather have done than catch a train.

I arrived in Lyon today at around 2 today and found out that the public transportation in Lyon is on strike. I decided to walk to the youth hostel, which turned out to not only be on the other side of town, but required me to walk up the Fourvière hill - definitely not for the faint of heart. Drenched in sweat and my arms and shoulders aching to high heaven, I got my room at the hostel that I’m sharing with 4 other guys, only two of whom I’ve actually run into. In any case, it’s clean, the guests seem friendly and they have wifi and serve beer. Can’t beat that.

A few quick words on Lyon: it’s a very pretty city at it’s heart. It’s not a massive beast that is Paris or London and it seems like a perfect sized place to get around exclusively on a bike. It has this weird mix between stuffy Parisian and laid-back South of France. So far I’m really happy with my choice. I just wish I could have my own place so I can call this place home.

Let me be franc here...

After I’d left, France, along with 11 other European countries, managed to change their entire currency. For the five years I was living in France I paid all my meals, CDs, drinks and rent in Francs. After spending more time with the Euro I find myself missing the old monetary unit despite the conveniences it offers especially in traveling.

First, I can’t stand all the small denominations the euro has. The smallest denomination the Franc had was .05. No pennies. It was wonderful. On top of that you rarely ran into prices that even had centimes in the price. I would pay 10 francs for a coffee. I would pay 15-20 for a beer. 100 for a CD. None of this 1.40 / 3.55 bullshit I’m seeing now which is filling up my wallet with useless 1, 2 and 5 cent pieces. Can I also mention how much alike the 1 and 2 euro pieces are? Back in the good old days, each franc coin was a different size (the 2 franc piece was a different shape) and everything was easy to spot out and find in your wallets.

Alas, times have changed and this old man’s got to suck it up and change with them.

Oui, oui

I’ve been in Paris for about a day now and so far it’s been a rather weird awakening. I didn’t feel foreign or emotional during my return to France, but it definitely feels like those times you spend the night at a relative’s place you haven’t seen in a long time, and you wake up the following morning and think for a second, “Where the hell am I again?”

Eight years without speaking much of the French language leaves much to be desired in your brain. Things that are hard-wired in you like saying “excuse me” when someone bumps into you instead of the French “pardon” is an example. Or going into a store and asking people stuff and trying not to come off as a complete dork when you ask them, “Uh...répétez s’il vous plaît?” You’d think that after spending 5 years of high school in France, I’d be perfect...well you’d be wrong. I definitely have some gaps in my linguistic capabilities. Gaps that embarrass me sometimes when faced in “unrehearsed” situations. In any case, I do hope this trip will help me fill in those holes.

Otherwise, France is great. The food is still amazing. The wine is delicious. The dogs are still tiny and cute. But I have to remember that I am not on vacation. I start work in a couple weeks and I still need a place to live in Lyon. Damnit. I got used to being lazy.

The waiting game.

The worst thing about airports isn’t the waiting in line or going though security or any other typical airport issue. The absolute worst thing about Airports is the abysmal state of wifi. I’ve been to a lot of airports around the world and there is only one airport I know of that offers free wifi for the masses: Columbus International Airport.

Thinking about it, I have to agree that it is a smart business move to make people pay for wifi throughout these winding gates and terminals. The internet is such a wonderful time waster and what is it people have lots of in airports? Time. As I’m typing this right now, I have 2 hours before the plane even starts boarding. I would love to log on and let people know that I’ve made it through a third of the way all right with both bags barely going through (they each weighed a few ounces over 50 pounds - it was close). I’d love to inform Ashley in case my flight was delayed, I’d love to screw around on Facebook. But no. Unless you’re catching a plane in Columbus, Ohio, you’re forced to pay for some crappy Boingo subscription service. Oh they do have a pay as you go option: $6.95 gets you 24 hour internet service! Yay! Well, I’m not spending 24 hours in O’Hare and I don’t feel like dishing out my credit card and paying you 7 bucks to check my email.

In short, Columbus, I salute you. You’ve put people before corporations. You’ve put the little man first. The little man who just wants to check their email, or write a quick IM to a friend, or torrent the latest episode of Weeds. Times are rough and letting people do a simple thing like surf the web, especially when the status quo seems to be the opposite: thumbs up.

PS: I just had people ask me if they could use the internet I’m apparently “using”. Had to tell them that I’m doing everything you can do with a computer except internet. I suppose on the flip side, I’m being more creative.

Counting down.

It was almost 13 years ago that a young 14 year old version of myself packed his bags in Lancaster, Ohio and headed to France with his family for a then undeterminable amount of time. Five years later I packed my bags and headed back to the states for college.

I did my obligatory 4 years of undergrad and then an additional 4 years of teaching, waiting tables, transcribing phone calls, installing/disassembling corporate conference AV equipment, dabbling in special education and property maintenance. Come October, you can add English teacher in France to that list.

In two days I'll be getting on a plane and flying back to France to live for another year. This time I'm not a naïve 14 year old whose only foreign language experience was 3 weeks of French lessons at the local university. I'm a grown adult with responsibilities, experience and a few wrinkles here and there. I am tempted to take a stab at hypothesizing how this year will blossom but that would mean having expectations, and if there's one thing I've learned: life is much more complex and random for one person to try to predict an outcome to.

Instead, I'll just concentrate on what I do know: all of my belongings are either in storage or in a couple of suitcases to my right. My Dad is kindly driving me to Chicago to catch my flight and I still have no place to live when I get there. That latter part might drive a few people insane but I'm taking deep breaths and concentrating on baby-stepping my way to Paris - to Ashley - and then figure it out as I go along from there.

PS: Man, I am suddenly really looking forward to crème fraîche....

Bureaucracy is the one constant in the universe.

A month after it was promised to arrive, I finally got my arrêté de nomination on Friday. A little piece of paper with an official stamp stating that I, as a foreigner, will be working as a teacher in Lyon, France. A piece of paper that's of upmost importance in receiving my work permit which requires me to pick an open slot at the French embassy weeks in advance so I can hand over my passport for 2-3 weeks. I leave in 3 weeks. Cutting it close guys.

The shittiest part? The official stamp is dated July 17th. The postmark on the envelope is August 18th. Classic French. I can imagine the scenario in my head. The paper gets stamped and is laid on a desk and forgotten about. Workers might pass by and see it, but won't comment. After all, "Eet eez not my jub too doo zat..ppp!"

Fucking French.

Packing has commenced.

I've got the first bag packed.


It's just winter and work clothes but it's the first big step I've taken thus far. Hopefully I won't need that winter coat between now and August....

I also got rid of a shit-ton of clothes in the process! Goodwill/Rag-O-Rama, cha-ching.


(Is it September yet?)

Admis. Lyon.

I found out last week that I've been accepted into the French Teaching Assistantship Program for the 2009-2010 school year. (score) I also got my first choice of city: Lyon. (double score)

I initially wanted to choose Paris but, for some reason, something about Lyon compelled me. It may have been partly due to the idea that everyone goes to Paris and all those brats would limit my choices. However, the more I thought about it, the more I found myself feeling that the real reason I chose Lyon was that it is a city I've never been to. It's a place to start life anew. A fresh breath of air. I have no ties or memories good or bad about this city: it's completely neutral.

When I was applying to the program, I thought about possibly starting a blog for people to read. Thus Boxed Champagne was born. The name comes from a friend who once told me that I was "as French as boxed champagne." I never forgot that.

I don't leave for another 6 months (boo) so I guess I'll shove this in the closet for a few months along with the sweaters and the winter coats.

Till then...tah-tah!