A Blind Date with France

*Disclaimer: No romantic dates were had in the making of this blog. Don’t get excited*

My first week in Éguilles has been miles different from my first week in Angers. When I was a student I was busy all day long. The day after my arrival, I was up and at school at nine am for orientation. This time around I haven’t had a schedule to attend with and have been largely free to do as I please.

This was most obvious my first day when I went to bed at eleven and woke up at noon. Jetlag is fickle and strikes at weird times, but it sure showed me that you need to structure yourself a little better than I did. For the next few days I set alarms to try and get myself into a normal sleeping schedule. So far, it’s worked but I know that jetlag can rear its ugly head for weeks after a time change, so fingers crossed I don’t see it again for a while.

My first few days were spent solely in Éguilles. I did some grocery shopping, explored a bit and got rejected by most of the banks in town. Éguilles is small and really doesn’t have much to do in it. I still like it though. It’s sweet in its size and is very picturesque.

Just a short bus ride away, however, I have Aix-en-Provence. Sadly, the buses only run about every forty minutes and the last bus leaves Aix at 8:40. Happily, the bus stop is right outside my front gate. It is literally impossible for me to get lost on my way to the bus stop. Last Saturday I made my first trip into Aix and wandered around.

I really do mean wondered too, I aimlessly walked from street to street just trying to get an idea of the area and what Aix is like. My bus from Éguilles comes into the Gare Routière which is right in the middle of downtown Aix, it’s very handy.

Aix reminds me a lot of Angers. It’s a similar size and has a very laid-back vibe to it. Unfortunately, Aix doesn’t seem to have the same history to it. Angers had a more distinctive old town near the chateau with ancient structures and cobbled streets. Aix feels more modern. It doesn’t seem to have a historic section in the same way Angers did. It does, though, have all the fountains. Aix is known as the city of fountains and it takes pride in that title and marks every old cool fountain on its tourist maps (I know because I stole one [not really stole, they were free in the tourism office but I’m still a rebel]).

Monday was my first day taking care of the children I am nannying. I had to pick up the youngest from school and boy was it nerve wracking. First, I had to drive to her school, and remember where it was. It’s only about a ten-minute drive and not hard to find at all, but I was still nervous. Then I had to find her amongst the swarms of children piling out of the gate.

I stared a little too hard at most of the kids. I’m terrible at remembering faces and had only met my charge twice before and was desperately praying I would recognize her. Thankfully, she recognized me and snuck up right under my nose.  On the way home, I made a wrong turn, something she was happy to point out.

If you have ever talked with a young child, you know that they are hard to follow. Stories can go on for days with an end, or a beginning or a middle. Understanding them is usually impossible, so you fill in gaps with yeahs and wows. Now imagine that this same meandering tale is being told in a foreign language and you can forget about it. The few car conversations we have had have been mostly one sided.

The more that I watch the kids the more comfortable I get. Picking up at school has become much easier, though I still get just a little nervous I’ll miss her.

When not deciphering French child speak, I’m trying to make some more comprehensible friends. On Tuesday I went to Aix with the express purpose to meet other assistants and make some friends. I’ve met a few lovely people so far, a few other American assistants and one Egyptian.

The weird thing about the assistantship program is that all other assistants just immediately seem like your friends. On our Facebook group everyone is supportive and very willing to offer advice and any help they can. It’s been a great community.

Meeting people in person has been weird, but great. It’s like a blind date. You have no idea who it is you are meeting, all you really know is that they aren’t French, and neither are you. Also trying to arrange the meetup seems strange. I ended up awkwardly hopping between three benches trying to appear casual as I waited to meet with another assistant on Tuesday. She was a little lost and running late so I was there for what seemed like too long to me.

Thankfully I have been able to successfully find all my assistant “dates” and have gotten along with all of them. One of the girls is even planning to join me on a trip for our October vacation (more on that soon).

Before starting my work at the school, I had two goals: get a phone and get a bank. School stuff starts tomorrow, and I have accomplished one out of two. Phone: check. Bank: not so much.

Getting a bank in France is the worst. I remember it being hard the first time and now it seems even more discouraging. Several banks have turned me away. I even made a meeting at one bank (which they cancelled and rescheduled moments after I got on the bus to go to it) and they still turned me away. It’s frustrating to assume your bank is all but ready to go just to be turned away at the last minute.

So next week in between school meetings I’ll be trying to make more bank appointments, so I can be paid. I’m incredibly happy to be in France and all, but I’d still like go be paid for it and for that, I need a bank.

Adjusting to being here has been pretty easy. I feel like I have a very good understanding of Éguilles and a decent idea of Aix. I like the family I work with and I think I’ve started a few good friendships. Next step is figuring out what is happening with my schools. Tomorrow morning I’ll be heading into Marseille for my stage d’acceuil (training/orientation). I’m excited to meet more assistants and get started teaching and get even more acclimated to my new position.

Next week I’m sure I’ll be posting again all about orientation and school and whatnot. Until then, à plus!

Here’s a few pictures from around Éguilles and Aix

Denial and Sandwichlessness

I’ve made it to France! A few days ago, I told myself I wouldn’t need to write a blog post about my flight and first day. I said to myself “Nothing interesting is going to happen, no one cares.” But cue awkward Becca and a different culture and BAM! Hijinks ensue. I don’t want to overhype this, it’s probably not that interesting, but hey, my blog = my stories.

Step 1: Get on plane go to France. Easy. And it was, sorta. I got through check in and security no problem. The hard part was the goodbyes. Now in my last blog post I told you I didn’t know how I was feeling about France. Turns out that was because I was in denial! Yay denial!

As our car approached O’Hare airport I felt my chest tighten a bit. But it passed. I checked in calmly and then went to say goodbye to my parents. And suddenly a waterfall. I was hugging my Mom and Dad as tightly as I could trying (and failing) to hold back tears. As much as I wanted to stay I just had to bite the bullet and say a final goodbye. I wiped at my tears and went through security. Once again calm and collected.

But as soon as I sat at my gate I started crying all over again. Suddenly the weight of my decision pressed down hard and made me realize I was really leaving everything and everyone I knew and was off to start a new job in a foreign country. I kept wiping at tears and trying not to make a scene. Thankfully I started texting my best friend who helped talk me down from hysterical and get a grip on myself. Never take advantage of best friends they are a godsend.

Once I boarded the plane I was once again calm and collected (this time for real). My plane was huge it had an upper and lower deck and 400 passengers. Apparently, it was the largest commercial plane currently in use. I ended up sitting in the exit row meaning I had instant access to the bathroom and a whole lot of legroom.

Personally, I missed having a pocket to put my water and stuff in, but I survived. It was awkward during takeoff and landing. I couldn’t have my screen up so couldn’t watch a movie or anything and the Flight attendants sat right in front on me. Staring face to face. I spent those twenty minutes trying to look anywhere but the flight attendant. I probably looked kinda weird.

But I slept some and made it to my layover no problems. A quick tip for anyone with a layover at Heathrow in London. If you need to switch terminals for you second flight, make sure you give yourself lots of time. I had to take a train and then a bus to get from Terminal five to three and then had to pass through security a second time. Overall it took me about an hour to get to the waiting area after my flight touched down. And I was one of the first people off the plane.

At Heathrow I had my first awkward misadventure. I was kind of hungry and knew I wouldn’t be getting food on my next flight, so I decided to buy a snack. From my last stay in England I had a few pounds left as well as a few from my dad. I had £3.50 in change and was determined to find something for no more than that.

In a little coffee shop I found a whole sandwich for £3.15, perfect.  I hand the cashier my sandwich and then my money, she looks at it, then hands it back saying they no longer accept that pound coin and I’d need to get it exchanged for the new ones. In less than 2 years my pounds had gone bad.

So, I put back my sandwich and went to sit down and dig through my bag for the £10 notes my dad had given me.  Went back to the coffee shop, grabbed my sandwich and handed the cashier my food and money (Obviously I went to a different cashier I couldn’t face the first one again). Just to once again be handed back my money and told that they changed their paper money as well. Dejectedly, I returned my sandwich to the case and went back to sit down. I hadn’t bothered to tell my credit card company I’d be in London, as I thought I had plenty of pounds, so I had no way to acquire my sandwich. Let this be a lesson to us all, when hoarding foreign money, make sure it stays good.  Next time I visit England my first stop will be a bank.

Sandwichless, I got onto my next flight to Marseille. It was quick flight, just an hour and a half, and then I was in France!

For the duration of my stay I’ll be working as an au pair for a family in the town of Éguilles, which is about 20 minutes from the schools where I’ll be working. The father, Benoit, was nice enough to pick me up at the airport, he had a little sign with my name on it and everything. He seems very nice. We spoke together in English and so far, every time he addresses me, he speaks in English.

After we arrived at their house, he showed me where I’ll be staying. It’s a nice studio separate from the main house. I have a bathroom, a little kitchenette and one wall covered floor to ceiling in windows. The best surprise was that I also have an air conditioner! This is not a guarantee in Europe, so I was very happily surprised. my bed is a fold out couch which is comfortable considering.

I had dinner with most of the family and got to meet the two youngest kids and the mom, Geraldine. All are very nice. Geraldine speaks to me almost exclusively in French, so I’m getting plenty of practice. Dinner was a definite French overload. I was listening to four people talking with the background noise of construction being done to their patio.

I was surprised that I kept up pretty well. There were a few times where I nodded and then found out what I agreed to later; but overall, I followed the conversation and held my own when spoken to. I know now for certain that my French is much better than my it was during my last stay in France two years ago. Then I started out being unable to follow when my host family talked to each other, now I had minimal difficulties.

Once again though, I did get a bit blindsided by les bises (French cheek kissing). First Geraldine asked to faire la bise, I said yes of course. Then I’m pretty sure I started on the wrong side. She kind of indicated I should start on the left, but I went right, Hopefully I’ll figure it out. Then I met the kids and Geraldine told them to say hello and bise, but they each did one kiss on the cheek not two. I don’t know how this bise thing works. Hopefully I’ll figure it out.

This is getting pretty long so I’ll save my first day in Éguilles until I have more to tell and a better understanding of the area. So far everything has been nice, and I am enjoying the feeling of being back in France.

Until next time, à plus!

Here are some pictures of my little studio

 

 

 

Feeling Kinda Weird

Tomorrow I’ll be leaving for France for the second time. For weeks people have been asking about how excited I am, if I’m nervous, and if I’m ready. Every time I respond with platitudes. “Of course I’m excitednervouspreparedscared why wouldn’t I be?”

But only after I answer do I take the time to consider how I really do feel. And the fact of the matter is that I don’t really feel excitednervouspreparedscared. I’m just kinda here.

I know that big life events like moving, new jobs, and new countries are supposed to make you nervous or excited beforehand, but that’s never really been the case for me. Not that I don’t feel anything, I just don’t think it fits into the neatly labeled boxes people keep asking me about.

I’m not nervous or scared about setting up in France. I have my plans set and am hoping that all goes well. I know that other people have done it, heck I’ve done it when I studied abroad. I don’t like to linger in fear and anxiety, and, luckily I have never had a problem ignoring any nerves and just getting on with my day. Now if something does go wrong, I will be a totally different level of mess, but until and unless that happens, I’m doing okay.

Am I excited? I mean… I guess? I’m not waiting on tenterhooks desperate to leave. I not quite sure enough of myself and what I want to do to be really excited. To me excited is taping toes desperately counting the minutes until the new episode of Sherlock comes out. Excited is not calmly scrolling through Netflix the night before my plane leaves for Europe. Don’t misunderstand, I am looking forward to my adventures and to eating some baguette (I miss French baguette). But it’s not the all-encompassing pumped vibe that I think the world expects.

Am I ready? There’s a hard question with no real answer. Am I packed? Yeah. Did I forget some essential thing that will come back to haunt me in a few months? I hope not. Am I mentally prepared to face a different culture with a host of new people? How do you even answer that? I could prepare for ages and still probably never be totally ready for the year ahead of me. But that’s life. No matter what you do you won’t really ever be ready.

The obvious next question is, how do you feel? Answer is: weird. I don’t know if I’m ready for my year abroad, but I am ready for it to start. I want to get going so that I can start feeling all the emotions and see whether I should have been more excitednervouspreparedscared. Tomorrow I’ll get on a plane and it’s going to be weird. I’ll land in a foreign country and meet foreign people and it will be weird.

I don’t have better word right now and I don’t think there is one. Before any major life event people ask you which adjective you are feeling and I think it’s garbage. English has a beautiful plethora of adjectives which I love to mess around with, but none of them describe who I am and what I feel perfectly. So, I’m settling on weird. I’m just here, waiting to go, and feeling kinda weird.

It’s strange that I wrote a whole blog post about how language has failed me and I can’t articulate my feelings. You’d think a writer would take more pride in their craft and trust that adjectives can show anything if you find that right ones. Maybe someone can, but that someone is not me today. Oh well. I’ll update you soon about my beginnings in France. Maybe by then I’ll figure out how to explain myself.

À plus!