The night I got into a Frenchman's béret

I've been holding off blogging until I have something vaguely interesting to blog about. This 'vaguely interesting' event is yet to materialise, however I feel the need to write something nonetheless. One of the main factors for the limited excitement in my recent life is the weather. I feel like I am back in England; it has rained and rained. And when it rains I hide away. What's particularly annoying is this morning I was talking to Dominique and she said these past few months have been exceptionally wet. Anyway, I'll stop being English and moaning about the weather.  

In fact, I lied when I said I'd done nothing at all interesting this week. Friday night was fun. It was the monthly 'club' night at the Café, which Mike and I had put in the diary ages ago after having had such a crazy time last time we went (and missing the 2 subsequent months' offerings due to being either in Paris or England). With it having been my birthday the week before, Mike and I saw this as a good opportunity to try and get the other assistants down to Melle for the first time and allow them to experience a night out like no other. Flu sweeping its way through the Niort assistants meant that only myself, Mike, Aurelie, Alfredo and Lewis were present, but this didn't stop Melle from delivering another great night. I think I may have witnessed even crazier dancing than before, and my night year was made when Béret Man not only posed for a photo with me, but LET ME WEAR HIS BÉRET.

I mean, just this photo with the man, the myth, the legend
would have made me a very happy girl...

...but this just surpassed all my childhood dreams.

In other news, Mike and Alfredo have a new roomie in the shape of a Polonaise called Agneshka or Anaiskha or something of that nature. I met her for the first time last week for a drink and she seems lovely and fun. So another young adult in Melle to hang out with and speak French with is a very welcome arrival!

And on that note, I think I'm going to turn in early and read some more French. Buona notte xox

Settling back into French life

Wow it's been a busy couple of weeks since I've come back to France (which will hopefully explain my absence from blog). So as not to bore you all with too much detail, I'll instead just give you a brief overview of what I've been up to in this time.

Thursday 10 Jan

Had Galette des Rois at school today, and my slice had the fève (lucky figurine thing) in, so I got to wear a crown. Yay!

We should totally have 'Kings' Cake' in England

This evening Mike and I were blessed with Aurélie's offer to drive us to Niort for a meal, and as a way to allow us to easily get out of Melle. The 3 of us met Lewis in town where we went for a meal in a 'pub', and I had a yummy pizza. We then met a couple more assistants, and headed on to a bar where there was a Couchsurfing soirée happening. Met more cool French people and spoke lots of French. Great evening.

Friday 11 Jan

This evening there was a gig going on at the Café, so Mike, Alfredo and I went along for that. Performing was a folk/ballady duo, comprising a singer and guitar player. Pretty easy-listening tunes, although they got a bit samey after a while. Nevertheless, was very French, and the Café was buzzing.

Singer Claire Dousset performing at the Café

Saturday 12 Jan

The sales in France don't start until the 2nd week of January, and so this marked the first weekend of the sales. Mike and I headed up to Niort to see what bargains we could find. Bought a nice cosy red jumper.

Sunday 13 Jan

Aurélie once again was kind enough to offer to take us to Niort today to go and watch a film. We saw 'Foxfire' which is about a group of girls who rebel against society by setting up their own secret gang. The film was long and had a dark theme to it, but it kept me entertained to the end. And we later found out that the director of the film (whose most successful film is the famous Entre les Murs) was born in Melle! A proud moment for the 3 of us.

Tuesday 15 Jan

Mike and I organised to go to La Côte de Boeuf (the local steak restaurant) the following day with Aurélie and Alfredo to celebrate my 21st birthday. However, as I was sitting in my kitchen that evening, I got a call on my English phone from my boyfriend. Yes, you guessed it right. Rob had decided to surprise me (once again) by turning up unannounced and spending my 21st with me!

Wednesday 16 Jan

My 21st birthday. And it snowed in the night! Well, a little bit. But it still felt magical!

My wish for snow on my 21st birthday came true!

After a lazy morning opening cards and presents, Rob and I took a walk on the outskirts of Melle, after which I made the most of his biceps by suggesting we go to Aldi and stock up on heavy things so he can carry them home. Ssh, it was my birthday. 

Opening a bar of Dairy Milk was very welcome indeed

Crispy snow on the soggy leaves

I'd cancelled dinner with Mike, Alfredo and Aurélie since Rob's parents had decided to treat us to a meal, just the 2 of us. So we set of to La Côte de Boeuf on a bitterly cold Wednesday night, only to find.....the restaurant was shut. Gutting when you have been excited about the prospect of a succulent juicy steak all day. We ended up instead going to the pizzeria, which was still lovely in any case. I haven't been that full since Christmas Day though. Coming home and watching Notting Hill, it was the perfect birthday surprise to have Rob with me, and I don't know how I'm going to match it when his birthday comes around...

Rob and I pre-dinner

The French really know how to do a good salad

Pizzaaaaaaa :D

Thursday 17 Jan

Said goodbye to Rob as I went off to work, since he was leaving later on. Only worked 2 hours, so was done by lunchtime. Enjoyed a massive school dinner as usual, introducing me to yet more French food. Today was Hachis Parmentier, basically a French version of Shepherd's Pie, followed by French-style trifle. Delicious. After returning to Melle for the afternoon, Mike and I decided to not waste such a sunny day, and so went a nice long walk. And after 4 months here we still discovered hidden parts of Melle we'd not yet come across!

Mike and I discovered on our walk that at the back of the derelict
hospital in Melle there is a chapel. Who knew?! 

Memorial statue to Jacques Bujault, who also has a place named after
him in Melle. I can't remember exactly who he was though

Old water pump

This evening was exciting too. The association that runs where I live had organised a big meal in a nearby village, to which staff, volunteers, and all residents of the association's 10 appartment blocks were invited. Travel was all arranged, and the 3-course meal was all paid for, so I only had to wait for my doorbell to ring. In total there were 25-30 of us at the meal, and apart from the food (salmon terrine followed by pork, pasta and carrot soufflé, followed by pear tarte tatin), there was a quiz and a charade-type game. My table didn't win, but I learnt many interesting things in the quiz, such as the étiquette when a man takes a woman to a restaurant is for the man to enter first, check said restaurant is safe, appropriate and worthy of the woman, then allow the woman to enter! I also met another really nice girl from my block called Angélique, so all in all today was a pretty good day.

Woke up this morning to a little bit more snow, but from seeing friends in England's photos, it's nothing to get excited over! No work for me until next Thursday now, which probably means I should start cracking down reading for my research project :( Bye.

View out my kitchen window this morning. I want more snow!

Pros and cons of France, according to me

The Christmas holidays were brilliant. I saw family. I ate. I saw friends. I ate. I saw the London lights. I ate. I celebrated my 21st birthday. I ate. I spoke no French. I listened to no French.

All good things come to an end though, and I returned yesterday to dear Melle. Needless to say, the abundance of English and lack of French that I have been immersed in for the past fortnight made work today pretty difficult. Hopefully I'll be able to get myself back up to speed within a few days though.

It's not that I completely removed France and everything frog-related from my brain over Christmas, however. In fact, I had a bit of a reflection session one afternoon, in which I thought about the things I like and dislike about France having now lived there for 3 months.

1. The first thing that comes to mind when I think about France's plus points is its trains. I know it's something the French pride themselves on, and I'd prefer not to boost their egos any further, but the trains are pretty damn good. TGVs speak for themselves, but even the TERs are nicer than most English trains I've been on. I'll admit I felt a bit embarrassed for England when travelling with First Capital Connect over Christmas.
2. Another thing that I love about France is the fact that it seems that every town or city has a château or overly impressive building that has been there for centuries. And what's more, people just walk past them as if they're nothing special and it's perfectly normal for a town to have a 30ft historical stone monstrosity plonked in the centre. The thought of one in Potters Bar just makes me giggle. But in France it just works.
3. Not sure how this next one ended up third on my list rather than first but, I truly love France for its amazingly-cheap-it-shouldn't-be-legal wine prices in the supermarches. My local Aldi has a bottle of red for 0,99€. WHAT?! It's not even like it's low alcohol. I haven't actually bought this particular bottle yet as I'm a classy bird who splashes out on the 1,50€ bottle, but it would be criminal not to give it a go once before I leave France. So watch this space.

I think 3 compliments are enough. We wouldn't want the French getting too cocky. So, now for the aspects of France that don't please me quite so much.

1. It's something everyone questions, but it's worth mentioning; why oh why are French train tickets so huge?! One third of an A4 page per ticket is just not acceptable in an age where the world is striving to be more green in my opinion.
2. On the subject of train tickets, here is my 2nd dislike. It's not a dislike as such, more something I just don't understand. Composter votre billet baffled me the first time I used French trains. 'Is this some special compost heap especially for train tickets, in order to try and compensate for their ridiculous size' I thought. No, it turns out. Composter simply means 'validate'. So you're validating a ticket that you've just bought for a specific train that you're about to board anyway. Please somebody, anybody, explain this incomprehensible madness.
3. I have been trying to go to Church as often as possible here in France, being a Catholic and all that. The thing that struck me immediately is that the French use the 'tu' form of 'you' to address God. Surely this is totally disrespectful to God...isn't he meant to be the most superior being to us Christians? There must be a valid reason, but once again, I can't work it out. As before, please educate me on the matter if you are able to.
4. Zebra crossings are death traps. For us Brits who have grown up with the knowledge that a vehicle will automatically stop for you if you approach those thick white lines on the road, it came as a surprise when I first started coming to France, to discover that in this country cars are not obliged to stop for pedestrians here. As a result I find crossing roads in this country quite difficult, and am always hesitating as to whether or not to cross, in fear that an approaching car will plough straight into me. Maybe I just need to learn to be more French and just fearlessly stroll over the crossings with that swagger all French people seem to have.

Last blog of 2012...

Now, I'm leaving Melle in 9 and a half hours and I need to go to bed in that time, but I thought I better write one last post before les vacances de Noël. I can't believe I've already had my first term here in France. It's quite depressing to think that when I come back in January I'll be almost halfway through my placement.

I'm in a very good mood as I write this, as I've just returned from a crêpe party. The association that runs the residence at which I live owns another 3 or 4 in the area. And so every now and then Olivier (one of the people that works for the association) organises small get-togethers. As he only ever gives 1 or 2 days notice, this was the first one I've been able to go to. So I went with another girl from my block who seems really lovely and is the same age as me. In fact, there was about 10 of us in total, and it felt so good to be able to speak French with a group of people my age. We played a game and cooked and ate pancakes, and it was very enjoyable indeed. So, hopefully this means I now vaguely have French friends my age =)

I need to go and finish packing now (despite all good intentions, it was inevitable that I wouldn't have finished packing the night before departure), but before I go I'd like to thank all of my readers who have been interested enough to keep up with my blog for the past 3 months. I've had almost 1200 views so far which is really flattering. They can't all be my dad! I promise I'll continue to record my life in France when I come back after the holidays, but until then, bonnes vacances, joyeuses fêtes, et bonne année! 

PS. I might decide to write another post before I return in the New Year. Who knows, I might get home and suddenly realise all the things I love about France. Anyhow, ciao for now. Gros bisous.

My little bit of Christmas in my Melle flat. Looking forward
to getting home to a proper tree!

A Tale of Hairy Armpits

I just did something spontaneous! I went to Zumba! When I was at school today Domie was the only one that could take me home, and she said it was convenient because she was going to a Zumba class in Melle anyway this evening. WHY HAVE I ONLY JUST DISCOVERED THIS?! So she invited me along, and I jumped at the chance. However because this was unplanned, and we weren't going back to mine between school, her house and Zumba, I didn't have any trackies with me. We managed to find suitable bottoms at hers, and she said what I had on top was fine (a vest top under a cardi). I have to make a confession at this point and say that, as it is winter, I don't make a habit of shaving my armpits everyday. So when I realised I'd have to be doing Zumba in a sleeveless top, I panicked. On second thoughts, however, I decided that as I would be amongst furry Frenchies, it wouldn't matter! So yes, I went to Zumba in a vest top with slightly hairy armpits, forgive me Lord.

It was a lot of fun though, and was the last one before Christmas, so people were wearing Santa hats. Then we Zumba'd to Auld Lang Syne, and I felt like I was back in England for a couple of minutes.

And GOD I just want to slap some of the pupils I teach. Teenagers can be such dicks sometimes :@

But, as there remains but four days in this country, I will laisser tomber.

(That was a totally pointless post)

6 days until I'm home...

This time next week I'll be back in England!! Food, family, friends, I cannot wait. Doing lessons on 'Christmas' this week at school and therefore showing them pictures of an English Christmas Dinner is making the wait even more difficult than before!

However, I've had a very enjoyable week as always. I worked a total of 4 hours, which were all on the same day, so I'm currently enjoying a 5-day weekend which has given me lots of time to do Christmas shopping.

I finally had another night out last night. Mike organised a big assistant Christmas party meet-up in La Rochelle, so I got to meet a few more people, and actually go to the first club since I've been in France. Spending the day there as well as the night allowed us to walk around a bit (although the weather couldn't have been grimmer), eat galettes and crepes, drink vin chaud, and see another Christmas market. Getting under 4 hours sleep and having to get the 9:30 train back to Niort this morning was the only downside, but it was great to get out again and experience La Rochelle by night.

Pretty lights underneath the Grosse Horloge

Christmas market

Festive illuminations on the Hotel de Ville 

Aw, that's cute :)

Les meufs

Mike and I were rather excited about today, as for the past week Melle has been highly advertising its For-One-Day-Only Christmas market. So we went along hoping it to be really buzzing and festive but expecting it to be a let-down (as after all this is Melle). Having now experienced it, all I can say is that it was rather odd. A Christmas market in Melle apparently means the inclusion of random ponies giving a new kind of Melle Smell; health-and-safety defying giant spider chimeneas casually burning ferociously in the middle of the walkway; a mini art exhibition; and a posh version of a school Christmas fayre but in an 11th century church. Aww Melle.

A blazing tarantula

Cheeeeeeese

Stalls inside St-Savinien church

 And I have been thoroughly enjoying my Christmas pasta.

I realise how terribly dull this post is; I'm so tired and uninspired but thought I should update it....

A big surprise, the French, and marijuana

Alors, qu'est-ce qui s'est passé in the life of Mademoiselle Melle this week, I hear you all ask eagerly. Because of course you all flit between languages mid-sentence. Well you're not the only ones. Despite being oh so far from being able to speak French well, little phrases keep popping into my English speech and it takes me a good few seconds to remember the English equivalent. I'm yet to decide whether this is a good thing or a bad thing.

Anyway, the answer to the initial question is 'not much to be honest'. But I feel obliged to write another post, so I shall rack my brain to think of something vaguely interesting I can tell you...

Of course, how could I let it slip. Last Tuesday evening, after having returned home from a petite soirée at Anne-Lise's house with some colleagues (which was lovely for her to organise in my honour even if most of the conversation went in one ear and out the other), I had a telephone call. Dun dun duunnnnnn. Gripping story so far, I know. The little screen on my back-to-basics French mobile informed me it was my dear boyfriend wishing to speak to me. After accepting the call and saying the standard 'hello, how are you', the conversation went a little like this.

Rob: In 10 seconds I'm going to ring on your doorbell.

Me: Haha Rob you're hilarious.

Rob: No, seriously, I'm outside your flat in Melle.

OK so I may have romanticised it a little bit, but the gist remains the same. My boyfriend flew across the channel to La Rochelle, took the train to Niort, and the bus to Melle, to come and surprise me. Aww isn't he cute?!

So that's the main news of my week. He was here for 2 nights and it was lovely.

I was quite ecstatic to learn from Mike that Melle turned it's Christmas lights on on Friday. Perhaps it was because I had seen Paris' lights the previous weekend, or the fact that in my head I had turned Melle into a winter wonderland with snow, glitter and Christmas music falling from the sky, but my expectations were in hindsight a bit high. In reality it's quite endearingly undramatic. None of the lights match, and there seems to be no logic as to where they've been placed. So I've made up for it by blasting Smooth Christmas Radio out my laptop 24/7.

Pretty lights in Melle, just a shame this is the only one of its kind...

What else? My suspicion that the French are a rather odd race has been reinforced. I was pleasantly eating my lunch in the cantine last Tuesday, as usual not really knowing what it was but enjoying it nonetheless. I then heard the other teachers discussing what it was. "C'est la joue de quelque chose..." "Joue de raie, je croix".

I suddenly chipped in by demanding "JOUE??!?" ('Joue' means 'cheek'. -- yeah, see, now you get my shock/horror). Not having been taught a wide variety of animals in French other than the standard pig, cow, budgie and guinea-pig, I had to ask what 'raie' was in English. Anne-Lise, an English teacher, didn't know, so we had to ask Domie, the other English teacher. "Oh", she said, "it's the same in English I think, 'ray'".

Ray? I've never heard of 'ray' bef-- Oh, STINGRAY?! I had just eaten Stingray Cheek it seemed. And I thought I was eating chicken. Having eaten rabbit the previous week, which appeared to have its eyeballs still intact, I shouldn't really have been so surprised...

But really, les Français? Is that really necessary? Chicken, beef, pork or lamb are perfectly sufficient for school dinners.

One of my classes last week was vaguely amusing. I decided to make the pupils at the lycée have a debate on the legalization of cannabis, as I figured it would be of interest to them judging by its pertinence amongst that age group in France. Needless to say, all they boys wanted to argue 'for' the drug's legalization, and I pretty much had to play devil's advocate the whole time. After turning my back for a few minutes, I returned to the 'for' table to find a guy casually emptying a load of weed from inside his mobile phone onto the table. 'You're meant to be talking about marijuana, not smoking it', I said in my raised teacher-like voice. And teacher-like it must have been, as he just wiped it into the bin. The fact that I wasn't particularly surprised by this incident perhaps shows that I am well settled into French life.