La Rentrée

Coucou!

Today is September 1st, la rentrée, the first French day of the working year. Granted, this year it landed on a Saturday, so for most the real rentrée is Monday the 3rd. 

I arrived in Strasbourg last Tuesday, which was still les vacances d'été. It's almost funny how different Strasbourg looked today versus the day arrived. When I arrived, the sun was shining, it was warm and people were strolling about in their light, summer gear. I saw many a floral sundress. Today (alongside a recent downturn in temperature), not a dress was to be seen and most people were in darkly colored jackets. Oh, what a difference. Today was decidedly not part of the summer vacation. 

Today, I moved my things into my new digs -- more to come on that. I haven't met two of my roommates yet, but the one I did meet is nice. 

It feels great to be back. 

GROS BISOUS

MCJ

Big news, everyone

Oh hey guys! Remember me? MCJ? American? Francophile?

Yeah, so, I've been more than a little absent. I apologize for that. Since returning to the US of A, I immediately spent three weeks on the road hitting up three awesome weddings. And then, quite out of nowhere, I started working at a camp for refugee children. These kids, quite simply, stole my heart (they can steal your hearts, too, if you'd just click here).

I had started thinking that for the next year, I might just try to go abroad somewhere, not necessarily back to France. When something arrived in the mail to remind me that...

I, MCJ, love France.

You may recall that at the end of April, I took the TCF. Well, in my last week of working at the camp, I got the results! I had clearly been too hard on myself as I didn't get a B2, I got a C1! And a high one, at that. Suddenly, I had the possibility of applying for a masters in France and the one I had in mind was still accepting applications.

So, I spent a week staring at the list of justicatifs I would need to send in, most particularly the lettre de motivation and projet de recherche. Applying for an Ethics program and having just spent all my time with refugees, I decided to write my projet de recherche (more or less a research proposal) on immigration with respect to human rights. While trying to get motivated, I ran across a couple dates hidden on the master's website. The application, I knew, was due August 31st. I had decided to get mine in by early July in the hopes of having a response in time to get a visa for the early September start-date. The dates I ran across were the days that the admissions committee would be getting together to select candidates. The dates? July 5th and September 3rd. The date I ran across this? June 30th. The amount I had done at that point? A paragraph of the letter and a vague outline for the proposal. Everyone, let me tell you something, I got that shit done. July 2nd, around 2pm, I was in Fedex, utterly sleep-deprived and grinning ear to ear.

MCJ: "Hi! I need to get this envelope to France as quickly as possible." I gasped out, beaming, crazy look undoubtedly in my eye.
Fedex guy: "Okay!... Just fill this out."
MCJ: Stares at paper, tries to remember how to write, what her name is, etc.
Fedex guy: "So uh... you seem pretty excited. What's this for?"
MCJ: "Ahhhh I'm applying to grad school. By the way, when will this get there?"
Fedex guy: Types things and replies "July 4th by noon."
MCJ: "Oh THANK GOD."

The dossier got all packaged up, declared as being valued $1 and shipped out and I spent the next 36 hours clicking refresh on my package tracking.

July 4th (happy Independence day!), I woke up and saw my package had been delivered at 9:30am French time. Yayyyy! I decided to call their office before closing time to check and make sure they had seen my dossier and that it would be reviewed the next day.

Secretary: "Bonjour, CEERE."
MCJ: "Bonjour, c'est MCJ, je suis une candidate pour le master en Éthique. Je voudrais confirmer qu'on a reçu mon dossier?"
Hello, it's MCJ, I'm a candidate for the masters in Ethics. I just wanted to confirm that you've received my application?
Secretary: "D'accord... votre nom encore, s'il vous plaît?"
Okay, your name, please?
MCJ: "MCJ"
Secretary: "Uhhh... non."
NO. 
MCJ: breathes. "Ah, bon? Fedex m'a dit que c'était arrivé ce matin. Ce n'est pas là encore?"
Uh, really? Fedex told me that it arrived this morning. It's not there yet??
Long story short. My dossier had not made it from the postal address to the office. I called again right before the office closed to check again. The secretary, clearly amused by my crazy, apologized and said no, but assured me it would probably arrive the next morning.

Sure enough, at 3:30am, I got the following email:

"J'ai reçu ce matin votre dossier qui est examiné en ce moment par la commission. Vous aurez une réponse courant de l'après-midi déjà par email."

I received your application this morning and it's currently being examined by the admissions committee. YOU WILL HAVE A RESPONSE THIS AFTERNOON BY EMAIL. (Emphasis mine)

Another long (boring and angst-filled) story short, the response did not arrive that day. The next day (today, Friday), I woke up at 4:30am to find this in my inbox:

Objet: Avis de la commission pédagogique Master éthique 2012-2013

Subject: Decision of the admissions committee for the Master in Ethics 2012-2013.  

And what was inside? You might ask.

Guess what, y'all, MCJ is heading back to France! I will be a Masters student at the Université de Strasbourg studying Ethics.

Adventure awaits, and I'll be sharing with you all the nitty gritty details on navigating the French university system. Should be fun! You can also expect to find my exasperation at finding housing, doing laundry in the very, very cold, switching banks and any number of other things I haven't thought of yet. I can't wait!

Bisous, mes amis, France m'attend.

MCJ

Paris

During my last couple weeks of class, I talked about clichés and differences between America and France. One of the videos I used was Shit Americans Say in Paris.

I've been in Paris since Monday. I had mixed feelings about coming here for a week, but I'll admit that any reservations I had melted away during my taxi ride from Montparnasse. Oh yeah, I said to myself, I do love Paris. It's been a great couple days during which I've been wandering around muttering "Paris... Paris... Paris" to myself with the same accent as in that video.

Paris.

P.s. Don't worry mom, I haven't been using other quotes from that video. ;)

Kenavo (farewells, part 2)

Yesterday, I left Brittany. It was a mixed-bag of feelings:
Happiness with an excellent time there
Sadness that it was over
Awkwardness that I was being ridiculous waving to friends while sitting across from a very attractive Frenchman in first class.

This post, however, is not going to be a discussion of yesterday. I'm going to talk about Saturday, my real day of goodbyes.

Note to everyone: NEVER agree to two meals (even if one is called an apéritif and the other is called "come see my house") in one day in France. Though delicious and highly amusing, it is something of a stretch for any person's stomach. Oof.

Saturday at lunch, ma belle cavalière, aka my Breton dance partner, came and picked me up for a visit at her house. This visit ended up being a crazy delicious six-hour lunch with her family. Magret de canard, merguez, veal sausage, lots of cheeses, marinaded anchovies (even if you think you don't like anchovies, try this if you get the chance), homemade ratatouille, cheeses and a lovely strawberry tart. It was a really enjoyable meal and another fun look into French family life, including teenage angst. (The French: they're just like us! Only not!) Sidenote: there was the usual overabundance of bisous, even from the random neighbor boy who came by. Now that I'm in Paris with Americans, I have to say I actually miss bisous. I did not expect that to happen. It was really jarring for me today to meet people and not have the usual bisous/enchantée routine.

At the end, ma belle cavalière and I went on a little tour of Pont Scorff:

There was a very Breton wedding going on, which we crashed (I mean, the doors were open...). We also did a little tour of the artist ateliers around town. If you're ever in the region, I definitely recommend a trip to Pont Scorff. Not only is it completely charming and authentically Breton, the many artist studios are interesting, unique and filled with warm, talkative people. The pays de Lorient region where I live is Breton but does not always look so. During World War II, it was heavily bombed due to Germany's encampment there. America was the bomber and we managed to destroy everything but the German submarine bases. Pont-Scorff, only 30 or so minutes from Lorient, however, seems to have escaped completely unscathed. The current town hall was the former house of a prince and interesting sculptures are waiting to be discovered around the town. The cour des métiers d'art is a great place to go if you're searching for a unique gift. Fortunately I had left my wallet at home and couldn't be tempted into buying any pieces. 

Balloons all ready to fly away. 

This outfit earned me many a "Mais t'es toute belle ce soir!" 

The very Breton wedding. The door were open and we actually went in to watch. 

After the little tour, I was returned chez moi so that I could then be picked up to go to an apéritif at the president of Spered Kewenn (the local Breton association). I knew going into the apéro that it was very possible that this would be one of those apéros that is actually a dinner. I still thought, however, that the apéritif would be a somewhat short affair. Silly me. Silly, silly, silly me. It was six hours long and could have definitely been longer had people not needed to get up to vote in the morning.

It was an unforgettable evening. My Breton classmates and a few members of my dance class were in attendance. I was so incredibly touched that they all turned up to wish me farewell and a hopeful à bientôt. One of my classmates made me a little bag hand-embroidered with a Breton pattern and another woman baked a cake decorated with an American flag (myrtille for the blue, bananas for the white and strawberries for the red) and a single Breton flag. Another classmate made a far (a type of Breton cake) with apples. SO DELICIOUS. Normally fars are made with fig. Apples take the cake. Miam.

Hand-embroidered bag. 

A Breton-American cake. 

An apple-far cake. 

As the night wore on, after the champagne bottles had been emptied and the wine bottles dwindled down, the singing started. As it was the first Saturday of May, I sang My Old Kentucky Home (far away).  Breton songs were sung, as well as the French drinking song, Il faut que je m'en aille.

After the tea and coffee, but before les pruneaux. 

To finish off the night, we had traditional pruneaux. These are prunes soaked in eau de vie. At that point, my properly drunk classmate told me how much the class was going to miss me and how wonderful it was to have some youth in the class. He said that my being there allowed for such a night to happen. Normally it is only the "extremists" that sing Breton songs at a dinner, but because of me, even non-extremists partook in such an occasion. "Tu as marqué le coin," he said, but the truth is that I am the one that has been most changed and most marked by them. It's hard to part, but I know that I will always be welcome back. 

Buvons encore une dernière fois (Let's drink another, one last time)

A l'amitié, l'amour, la joie (To friendship, love and joy)

On a fêté nos retrouvailles (We've enjoyed our meetings)

Je m'ennuie pas, mais il faut que je m'en aille. (I'm not bored, but I must leave) 

-- Graeme Allwright 

What I'm up to tonight

(Further updates on recent life to come, but for now I think I'll enjoy the sunset.)

Goodbyes

I had to stop by the primary school today to pick up a flashdrive I left behind, so I tried to show up a few minutes after school let out to minimize the amount of crazy I stirred up. I still managed to pass many students along the way and I suspect there are a lot of parents that now know who that Mais-oui character is. I'm gonna miss hearing "AH! YAH MAIOUI!" English r's are super hard for French kiddos. The few students still in the school courtyard literally chased me down (as I ran after one of the student-life assistants myself to give them something back) and demanded bisous. No longer being an employee of the académie de Rennes, I complied and received bonbons and more bisous for my pains. I'm going to miss them.

With that in mind, I thought I'd share some of my favorite student notes (there's good chance I'll share even more as time goes on. I haven't gotten through them all yet.....) :

From a CM1 (a 9/10 year old), unprompted and all on her own (I love my job):

Mary, I loved doing English with you, you were very smily and you taught us many things. And to help us learn, you had us play games. We had a lot of fun with you. I thank you very much for everything. To have you with us was too great. I hope that we weren't too difficult with you. (As if, you were all angels, angels, I tell ya!)

Thank you for everything. 

I adore you Mary. 

Thank you very much. 

From (student)

I adore you.

(British flag) (Breton flag) (student name) (My students were never too clear on the fact I'm not English. I probably should have done more drilling on how, though I speak English, I am not in fact English.)

From a 4ème (in fact, from the good half of my worst class):

(English parts I think you can read)

I will miss you!

(est-ce que tu baise[s]?) <-- I'm not translating that here, but don't worry, google will translate it for you. Yeah. A student wrote that. OH KIDS..... This class is the one that has a kid "amoureux" de moi. (Edit: It looks like that might be some sort of cultural thing. There was a Ze Inconnus sketch called that... but it was about picking up chicks, from what the quick google description tells me. My connection is pretty slow, so it'll be a while before I can fully check up on this. Feel free to tell me if you know.)

 From a CM1/2 in the class that had a farewell party for me. I was depicted as the statue of liberty in a lot of these images....:

 Statue of liberty: There are skyscrapers that make the letters of my name! And people that say they will miss me!
Crowd: You will be welcome... in FRANCE! 
Oh SNAP! kiddos, I see what you did there. I love y'all. There are little people on all the buildings that have signs spelling out "we will miss you."

From the same class:

You were my best English mistress. (hehehehe, in France, primary school teachers are called Maître/Maîtresse)
When you leave, my heart will hurt. Thank you for everything. 

Thank you for the English. (I just really, really liked this picture.)

BEST THING EVER: THE SONG MY CM1/2s WROTE AND SANG FOR ME. Sung to "We Will Rock You." I'm sorry I didn't record it. So very, very sorry. It was really frickin' adorable.:

(In case it's not legible....:

Mary you're a girl make a good job
Teaching in the class gonna be a big girl some day
Can have a smile on your face
There's no disgrace
We speak English all over the place


We all, we all thank you
We all, we all thank you


Mary you're a young girl, good girl
Being under your feet, we give you our word today
Don't have tears on your face
There's no disgrace
Giving us fun all over the place


We will, we will miss you
We all, we all love you)

Okay. I'm gonna get back to packing and not thinking about how much I'm going to miss all the people here.

OH ALSO, any future assistants that may find themselves here, don't hesitate to contact me with any questions. :)

What a day!

This morning started out... badly. I woke up two hours before intended with stomach pains. Evidently, munching on lettuce before bed was a bad idea. I spent the rest of the morning trying to figure out if things had stopped enough to make it to my last day of classes at the collège. I was dehydrated, a little faint and not all-together. Still, it was going to be my last day and I couldn't miss it. I left my apartment a minute before class and thanked my lucky stars that I live on campus. For the first time ever, my students saw me in a t-shirt with more disheveled than usual hair. I told them I was dressing comme une américaine (sorry USA...).

First surprise of the morning: a teacher had made a mistake and my 4emes became 6emes. Not gonna lie, I loved this change. I love 6emes. Following the adorable 6emes who gave me thank you notes from all the students of their teacher (aaaaawwwwww) was my worst class. Rather my worst half of a class. I dreaded the thirty minutes I spent with the students every week. We made it through with minimal discomfort. I actually had a lot of fun with the second group (I usually do, it's just the first group that was penible). It might have helped that the second group came in with a paper they had all signed. (Granted.... one of the things written on there asked about my sex life.... er.... Well, the nice thing is knowing that this paper came from them and had nothing to do with their teacher.) I had planned on going to lunch with the teachers after that, but my stomach was protesting loudly even to the idea of water so I sat and waited for my last class ever at the collège.

My last class ever was with 5emes. 5eme is a funny age where some kids are still adorable children and other are awkwardly on their way to teenage years and others yet are all-growed-up. I made the hour into a Q&A session whose success was varied but overall positive. It was a good finish.

Second surprise of the morning (er... I guess I should say day. One week in Spain and already I think everything before 3pm is morning): I got called to see the gestionnaire. Whoops, I assumed, I should have told someone when I'd be quitte-ing the apartment. Mais non. It turned out the administrative team at the collège wanted to thank me and give me presents! So sweet! They told me that all the students and teachers had just been so happy with me. It was wonderful to hear as I had at times doubted my really being helpful to the students. I'm also not going to lie, when I was brought in to the principal's office, I thought I was in trouble. My mind is extremely inventive in times like these.

I'm gonna miss my little big monsters.

One more day at the primary school and I'm done. So sad, so sad, so sad. I've got quite the day planned out, however. My little monsters are going to have an English treasure hunt and taste PB&J. I'm pretty excited.

Much love,

MCJ