Monday, December 1, 2008
Saturday morning was cool--I got to teach a bit in Sophie's French class. The material was nothing new to me (intro to theatre of the absurd, and a close reading of the beginning of Godot), but I had no idea how the lesson would go from a linguistic point of view. I actually had a really nice time chatting with the students. They picked up on a lot of Beckett's humor and general philosophy just from reading the very start of the play. As always, I find their thoughts and interpretations so interesting. I found myself quite grateful for this opportunity; I really enjoyed it.
On Saturday night, Vanessa and I met up with Lindsey and Josh again for some adventures in Paris. We went to a fondue restaurant in Montmartre where they serve wine in baby bottles. The place was really busy, and there were a lot of other Americans there, so we chatted a little with the people on both sides of us. One girl told me she goes to Skidmore, and I said a lot of my people from my high school went there, so she asked who I knew--so I mentioned my brother's good friend Anthony, and it turns out she knows him! I thought that was just the funniest thing. I think the context of the baby bottles contributed to that...
I have really wanted to go to the Opera Garnier here, but tickets for operas and ballets were a little out of my price range...so on Sunday night I went to see a little chamber music concert with performances by the some of the Opera's orchestra members (percussion, flute, clarinet, piano). The building is just stunning, from the outside and from the inside. It's actually the building that inspired the novel The Phantom of the Opera. Here's the outside at night.
Here's the main staircase. It's so impressive!
And, of course, the performance room was magnificent. I had an impossible time taking a picture that could do it justice. It's all red and gold, and incredibly ornate. Coincidentally, the music of the evening was largely 20th century American pieces for percussion, so it was really modern and experimental. It was really interesting, and there was a pretty thorough description provided of each piece before its start, so it was cool to have a point of view from which to interpret it.
Tomorrow will be another performance adventure--Vanessa and I are going to see a French production of Shakespeare's Taming of the Shrew at the Comedie Francaise. I'm really looking forward to it!
Today was a rather festive day, as Christmas markets are springing up around Paris, so Marta and I spent the morning at la Defense, walking through a huge variety of little stands selling all kinds of things. Definitely started getting us into the holiday spirit.
Friday, November 28, 2008
We had salad with veggies and cheese...
I made steamed veggies with olive oil and tarragon (which any Beckett fans will be glad to know is "Estragon" in French)...
Chelsea made stovetop stuffing, and Vanessa went on a search for cranberries (much harder than you would think...) and managed to find something similar. They were little red berries in a section of jars labeled "Condiments insolites"--essentially odd condiments. Turns out they went pretty well with the stuffing.
Vanessa made some delicious Southern-style mashed potatoes, which were a huge hit.
I thought of how great it would be to make a pie or something, but that wasn't possible without an oven...so I mixed up some apples with cinnamon and sugar, a la inside of an apple pie.
We used all of the big plates we had, so the bread was displayed in a skillet. Classy.
I don't have pictures of everyone, but here are a few--this is (starting from the left) Stefan, one of the German teachers, and Marta and Lukas, the two Polish teachers I live with.
On the American side of things, here's Vanessa, Josh (Lindsey's boyfriend), and Lindsey, who's teaching in Amiens. Also, if you look really closely, you can see the Condiments Insolites jar.
One of the things that was coolest about the evening--besides the obvious interesting cultural conversations about holidays and celebrations--was the use of languages. It was truly a bilingual evening--Lindsey's boyfriend doesn't speak French, so a lot more English was spoken than would have been otherwise, though the majority of the conversation was in French. We were changing back and forth constantly, which was a great challenge. Overall, a wonderful evening with really interesting people!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
I started at Montparnasse, mostly because I had to go see Beckett, but I got the added benefit of seeing the shared grave of Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir (two French writers). Then I found the grave Beckett shares with his wife Suzanne. It is so modest, as I had expected, yet there are fresh flowers on it (as on Sartre and de Beauvoir's), so it is sought out by visitors. I did a lot of thinking about how much time I spent studying his works for my honors thesis, and it somehow struck me that he was a living, breathing man. Of course, I know this quite well, but standing there in the middle of Montparnasse, he felt more real to me than before. I think generally being in Paris has made me think more about the life he lived, in addition to the works he wrote.
Then I went to Pere LaChaise, where I ended up achieving even less because I didn't have a map and the cemetery is enormous. I wandered around for a little while and took pictures of a few striking graves, like the one pictured here. It was kind of weird wandering through the tightly packed cemetery and taking pictures of graves which remain somewhat anonymous to me. It's really interesting how people want to be remembered, and how their memories do live on. In both cemeteries, I saw monuments with the word "souvenir" which is the French verb "to remember." Because it also exists in English as a more trivial word, I find I sometimes forget to consider it with the amount of meaning it merits in French.
I stopped at Oscar Wilde's grave (English writer), which is covered with lipstick. People come and kiss his grave, which I think is such an interesting tribute. I can't help but wonder how that began. Someone had left a beautiful blue rose on the top, and I couldn't resist taking a picture. Wilde is one of many famous people from the US or the UK to be buried in Paris--I'm sure there is an interesting story behind each of them. I happen to know Beckett's, but not many others. Overall, a very thought-provoking day.
In other, more pleasant news, I have pictures of the decorated department stores I mentioned! This is the enormous tree in the center of Galeries Lafayette, which is stunning. The outside of the building is also really cool; it lights up at night.
Right next door to Galeries Lafeyette is Printemps, another department store, and I think they compete by default every year for cooler decorations. Galeries Lafayette is much more traditional, and Printemps is bright and modern. I found the windows particularly hilarious, especially when considering the Christmas/Holiday scenes in Macy's windows in NYC. They alternate between bizarre scenes for kids, like bears with bubbles here (there were also models in space), and really intense high-fashion scenes. Amazing how many similarities and differences there are in the way our two cultures handle the oncoming holidays.
An additional note--I finally posted some albums on Facebook (with only a small fraction of my pictures, as you can imagine), for anyone who wants to check them out. If you're not on Facebook, but want to see them, let me know and I think I can figure out a way to do that--though I plan to eventually post everything on a site everyone can see.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
After that, we walked along Rivoli to reach the Champs Elysees, since Paris is officially decorated for Christmas. This picture is a street off of Rivoli. All the lights are so festive!
Last night, we had a nerdy, touristy evening, which is really unusual for us--but we figured, why not? We ate at a creperie restaurant, and then took a boat ride along the Seine. It ended up being more touristy than we would have liked (not surprising, of course), but we got some lovely pictures of the Eiffel Tower! Excuse the perspective on this one, but I was trying to get the water in, too...
Anyway, hopefully I'll be taking many more pictures around Paris in the next couple of weeks, which I will most certainly post!
Thursday, November 20, 2008
The next day, we did a Shakespeare walk with London Walks, which was cool. We got to see where the Globe and other Renaissance theatres stood, and hear about the archeological stuff they are doing now to learn more about them. Our tour guide was awesome, and did many dramatic recitations of Shakespearean monologues, and even sang some songs. After that, we walked around to see some of the main sights—Big Ben and Parliament, Westminster Abbey, etc. After a quick stop back at the flat, we went out for an awesome Indian dinner before catching a show called “Waste.” It was an interesting drama about the conflict between the public and personal life of a brilliant, aspiring politician, and essentially chronicles his downfall. It was full of the quick quips and wordplay I always imagine as being characteristic of English plays in performance.
On Sunday morning, we went to the
On my last day, Monday, we began our day in
I returned to
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Vanessa and I had returned from our trip to
Around 1:30 in the morning (our time, of course), I found myself getting frustrated with hearing nothing but exit poll numbers, and decided to go to sleep for a while. By the time I woke up early the next morning, the news was in. Vanessa and I decided to go celebrate at a restaurant called, appropriately, Breakfast in
I spent a little time with the Germans one night, which began with them asking me about the elections, and morphed into a discussion about the state of the world. It never ceases to amaze me how much nuanced information Europeans know about all the other countries in
I had a proud day in Sophie’s French class on Saturday. Beforehand, she and I were discussing the elections, and she complimented me again on the improvement she’s noticed in my speaking, and asked if I’d mind speaking for ten minutes or so about the elections. As I had already spoken with her class a bit about African-American history, I said ok, only a little nervous. In class, she told them they could chat among themselves and formulate four questions for me, but they had to be questions they couldn’t find answers to on the internet (like no statistics, no specific factual questions about what happened in various states). She said they should take advantage of my nationality to ask me philosophical or sociological questions, the answers to which could serve them on the Bac. The questions they came up with were really impressive (do bear in mind that this is a class that is being given two years to complete one year of high school because of academic difficulties). I made note of them (there are more than four because they opened up into larger discussions), but in French, so bear with my English translations—they sound better as the students originally phrased them.
- Is the election of Obama an example of “positive racism” or affirmative action?
- Will he change perspectives on African-Americans?
(I talked about some states being so staunchly conservative that we won’t see sweeping change in the immediate future. I told them that one of my friend’s boyfriends was taking people to vote in
- This led to an impressive question—one of the boys asked if people don’t ever call each other by the word in modern slang, and I acknowledged that he was correct. I tried to explain that there is a difference between minorities using the word among themselves (sort of a re-claiming or re-defining of it) and a white person saying the word out loud (referring back to its historical use).
- Will he renew or reinvigorate African-American identity?
- Is the election of someone so different (young, black, democratic, rather inexperienced) a commentary on the weaknesses of the American system? In other words, does it indicate that Americans regret where their former approach has led them?
- Do Americans have too much hope in what Obama can do?
The discussion went on for quite some time, with Sophie sharing her opinion from time to time and encouraging them to keep asking questions. By the time we were done, 45 minutes had gone by! I was so proud that I was able to continue a rather complex discussion in French for so long with high school students. And, perhaps more than anything, I was impressed with the maturity and perceptiveness of the students, in asking complicated questions about a country other than their own.
I spent Monday in an all day pedagogy class with French first-year teachers. It was so cool to spend the day in the midst of discussions about teaching literature, since that’s really my home terrain, even though it was, of course, in French. I did more listening than contributing, but I learned a lot. One of the most striking parts of the day was a discussion about where they would be placed in the following year. As a teacher in France, you can basically be sent anywhere in the country from one year to the next, and obviously young teachers get the least consideration for their preferences (it’s all based on a point system which is based on seniority). There was a lot of concern from teachers who had certain places in mind, and especially those who live with someone, because it all seems like it can be so up in the air. You have to play your cards right with your choice-making, and even then, it may not work out in your favor. When some of them asked me about the American system, and I explained the differences, they joked about expatriating. Then I reminded them that in France, once you are officially a teacher, it means you have passed a competitive exam, and you can be certain that you will have a job somewhere (the number of teachers who pass is the number of open jobs that year)—whereas, in the US, a lot of people find themselves with certificates but no job. That made them feel a little better about their situation. Overall, I find myself wishing the
Finally, today, I began three two-lesson units with different classes—about the elections! With one class, I’m talking about how the elections have been presented in the news and media. With another, I’m making a link between the elections and the Harlem Renaissance (they love saying “jazz and soul” and “jazz and blues”), in terms of African-American identity. And with the last class, the most advanced, I taught a bit about the Civil Rights Movement today, and tomorrow we are going to compare part of MLK’s “I Have a Dream” speech with part of Obama’s victory speech. Should be interesting!
Sunday, November 9, 2008
At last, here is my journal from the pilgrimage. I did a lot of writing while we were away—at least a couple of pages each day—so I’ll try to condense it all here and give you a little day-by-day synopsis.
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 25 – Arrival in St. Jean Pied de Port
We arrived in St. Jean Pied de Port (in the South of France) pretty early in the morning, and went to the Pilgrim Welcome Office. The greeting was everything I could have hoped for—the woman who spoke with us provided us with lots of information, encouragement, and some warm tea. We spent the rest of the day exploring the city, which is lovely and found ourselves perplexed by a language we kept seeing everywhere; it took us a little while to figure out that it was the regional language, Basque, which is still very much alive in the area (which includes parts of Spain and France). Signs were mostly in Basque with French beneath them, and we found a Basque bookstore. Incredibly interesting. We were pretty exhausted so we went to sleep early, to get ready for the adventures ahead.
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 26 – Taxi to Pamplona
Before leaving St. Jean in the morning, we had breakfast with the other pilgrims, who were taking off for the hardest day of walking in the entire pilgrimage (we weren’t going to start walking for a few days, so we couldn’t really commiserate). We spoke with some people from
Since it was Sunday, we had basically no travel options except a taxi, but it was cool because we got to see the
When we arrived in
MONDAY, OCTOBER 27 – bus to Leon
We had to wake up at 5:30 to leave for Leon, and we had to take 3 different buses to make it there—but we accomplished it all without a hitch! We had several successful interactions in Spanish throughout the day, including the purchasing of the bus tickets, the finding of the correct buses (even getting off at the right stops was not always easy), and explaining our traveling situation to the man at the Benedictine albergue where we stayed (you’re mostly supposed to be walking in order to be allowed to stay in the albergue, so we had to explain that we only had so many days in Spain, and we were going to start walking soon).
The city was lovely, with a beautiful cathedral. The albergue itself was particularly interesting. The rooms were packed—we slept in a room with about 50 other pilgrims, and there was an equally large room next door, also full. We met a fellow American named Chrissy from Maryland, who has found herself with a degree she is not sure how to use (in Divinity) and who is exhausted from several years of working at a camp for troubled girls. She’s not sure what she wants to do next, so that’s why she’s walking.
The albergue is run by Benedictine nuns, so you only pay what you can (a few euros suffice). They also invited us to the evening vespers and a special pilgrim benediction, and we went to both. We were pretty proud of how much we could understand in the prayers, and we got to pray aloud in Spanish with the other pilgrims, which was foreign but very cool for mostly everyone. They read a list of the countries we all came from, and it was pretty impressive! The man from
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 28 – bus to Sarria
We left for our last day of traveling by bus, which was long, but fine. We continually impressed ourselves with our ability to understand what we hear and express ourselves, however elementary our phrases are. We saw some beautiful landscapes, several pilgrims on the camino, and lots of camino arrows! When we arrived in Sarria and followed the camino to reach the albergue, we looked down at the shells in the sidewalk (yellow arrows and shells are the two indicators of the camino for pilgrims). We remarked on how many people had walked along this otherwise unsuspecting sidewalk. The camino really has such a life and presence to it.
We decided to vary up our albergue experiences, and chose to stay in a nicer private one (still under 10 euro for the night). We were in a nice little four person room, which seemed refreshing…until we realized that there were no outlets in the room, the albergue doesn’t offer breakfast in the mornings, and we really had no way to meet other people. We paid 4 euro the night before for our crowded room, but there was a real sense of community, and an unlimited supply of bread and coffee in the morning! Ah, well. Also, the power-saving lights in our nice little room shut off every 15 minutes. That was pretty irritating as we got into bed for our nightly writing/reading time.
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 29 – walk to Portomarin
The weather was a little drizzly in the morning, but we got off to a nice start for our first day of traveling on foot. As soon as we left Sarria, we found ourselves in forests and rural farming areas. The views of the countryside were breathtaking and the entire day was incredibly peaceful. The most exciting event was passing a herd of cows on the path. Cows are so big up close, it's a little scary. Overall, though, I think we’d both say it was a really pleasant, calm day.
The experience of walking was really powerful. I kind of developed a new sense of the terrain as something infinitely larger than myself, yet something I still was able to traverse. It was such a wonderful feeling, for example, to see Portomarin from a distance, and then suddenly find it right before us. We met some French friends at the albergue, which was really nice. We met an older woman who had been walking for almost 60 days (ironically, we had seen her earlier in the day when we stopped for coffee, and she had shared some bread with us—but we didn’t realize we all spoke French at the time, so we had an awkwardly silent exchange), and a couple who had just started walking like us.
Vanessa remarked that she knew I was on board for this over the summer when I said we could have our very own Canterbury Tales, which cracked me up. It made me think, though, about how many stories Vanessa and I have already exchanged—how conducive this type of travel is to the telling of stories (even the bus part). There is really nothing else happening but the traveling itself. I even thought of how many people we have met have introduced themselves with a short story about who they are and why they are walking; we rarely learned anyone’s name, but we always learned something somehow more personal. It’s almost like stories are, in this context, something of value that everyone wants to share and receive. So rarely, otherwise, do we make time for the telling of stories.
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30 – walk to Palas de Rei
Our second day of walking was more trying. The ground was damp from the rain last night, but the cool air was nice for starting off the day. I find that I love the peace of the early mornings as we’re walking. As we hesitated in getting back on the path (we lost track of arrows when we went to our albergue), we ended up meeting a nice man named Peder from
We continued the tradition we began the previous day of stopping for a little café to break up our morning. Unfortunately, it poured all afternoon, and we arrived in Palas de Rei soaked and disgruntled in our ponchos. We re-encountered our friendly French couple, which was nice. We heard that the shower water was cold, and also the four shower stalls were wide open and facing each other—so between that awkward situation and the fact that we were already cold and wet, we opted to forego taking a shower for the day. And anyway, we were just going to be putting the same dirty (and now wet) clothes on the next morning. We put our pajamas on, and we were unable to move from our sleeping bags for the rest of the evening. I finished up reading A Thousand Splendid Suns and moved onto the French book that I picked up in Portomarin the day before.
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31 – walk to Arzua
We didn’t get a whole lot of good sleep last night, because there was a rowdy group of Spanish teenagers sleeping in our pretty crowded room. We decided they were either a school group or random locals—they didn’t seem to have much respect for the camino or the pilgrims, so we figured they had just begun to walk somewhat recently.
We stopped for our first real lunch along the way, which sustained us through the rest of what turned out to be a very long day. We had planned to stop short of Arzua, but we decided to continue the rest of the way there, taking advantage of the mostly sunny weather.
We walked for a while with a German guy (who we later came to refer to as “West German”) who had worked in NYC and whose wife is a teacher, so we had plenty of topics to discuss. We chatted (in English) about school systems, language learning, and about the election. We continued to run into the French couple; it feels so nice to talk to them in French. Dealing awkwardly with people in Spanish, it’s refreshing to be able to express ourselves in the tense and tone we choose, even if it’s still a foreign language.
We were both aching and tired as we approached Arzua. We met a man who is writing a story about Canadians on the camino, who we continued to see and hear about as the days went on. We arrived at the albergue, pleasantly surprised to find that the showers were really warm and the water pressure was strong—so that more than made up for the unfortunate shower situation in Palas de Rei. We took the best showers ever.
We heard about a bomb in
SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 1 – walk to O Pedrouza
After a night in a room of snoring old men (better than the teenagers? I don’t know), we woke up to more rainy weather, but it let up quickly. We walked along with another German (this one was, obviously, “East German”), and talked to him for a while. He finished up his contract as a consultant for international companies, and plans to move to
We took a break for lunch and continued our new tradition of Estrella
It was interesting to be around an American, as he was only the second we had encountered. It was refreshing to hear his accent and even his slang, of course, but there was something characteristically American about him—in a bad way. As we watched him confront people in his awkward Spanish (which may have been worse than ours), there was something in his bearing which seemed to affront people and lead them to respond sarcastically and harshly to him, something we have not yet encountered. We were proud of ourselves for our interactions with Spanish people, even with our linguistic limitations, which seem to show them enough respect that they respond with sincerity and kindness.
Looked like another long night with the Spanish teenagers in our albergue.
SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 2 – walk to
Waking up was tough this morning; I got very little sleep last night because of the group of teenagers—they were chatting and turning lights on all night. I had a conversation with one of them earlier in the day, who confirmed that they are indeed on a school trip, though I was left wondering how the logistics were working out with so many of them.
In honor of our last walking day, we had a “Café Che” before we took off—coffee with milk, cinnamon, and whisky (though I would guess that no one actually orders it in the morning). We also split a Tarta de Santiago, so we started off strong. We did a whole lot of uphill walking at the beginning, but the weather was nice, so we couldn’t complain.
We got frustrated during a rather flat stretch with no camino signs, and nothing interesting in sight (I think I had actually been warned about this portion of the camino, and how disheartening it is). We felt like we weren’t moving anywhere, until we finally reached Monte de Gozo where we stopped for one of our staples—juice, “zumos.” We each bought bottles to take with us, but the woman at the counter offered us glasses and insisted we sit. We got to see the adorable baby she cares for, but unfortunately found ourselves able to say nothing more than “hola” repeatedly. We continued our trek and
Tired, full, and being pursued by an ominous cloud (
MONDAY, NOVEMBER 3 – day in
We began our day by wandering around to do a little bit of souvenir shopping. We each wanted a little something with a shell on it to remember our experience, but it took us a while to find anything other than really cheap, touristy stuff. Then we went to the cathedral, took some pictures, and looked for the pilgrim office. We heard some French speakers, so we asked them to tell us where it was, and we headed over to get our pilgrim credentials (for walking the last 100km). Then we went to the pilgrim mass. It was cool so see so many people who looked dirty and tired like us, and we were pleased to hear the words “pererinos” (pilgrims) and “Etados Unidos” (
The climax of the mass would be when this enormous (seriously, as big as a person) incense thing came down from the ceiling, and 5 men worked together to swing it from side to side all the way up to the ceiling while really dramatic organ music played. Everyone was taking pictures. We actually got videos of it.
On the way out, we ran into this Spanish man from our hostel, who had been really distressed about the fact that we went to sleep early yesterday—he kept popping his head into our beds to see if we were awake and to wish us “beautiful dreams.” I managed not to see him right away, and I yawned, which was not the best thing to do, because he proceeded to pretend to yawn in return and remark, “My God. So many hours. I don’t know why. Why?” This continued for the rest of the day and into the night. In the evening, when he was bothering us about being in bed before he was, Vanessa looked at him and said “My God,” as he had earlier (in a kind of hilarious accent), and then hid in her sleeping bag. Good times.
In other news, we chatted with a Canadian guy named Stefan, who was pretty cool. We met a nice American couple from
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Saint Jean Pied de Port -- the city in France where we began our trip.
Early morning in Sarria, looking at the city as we began walking away (as we began the walking part of our pilgrimage).
Lovely view from the middle of nowhere as we were walking.
Portomarin -- the first city we approached on foot.
A lovely path on our last walking day, on the way to Santiago.
A fence as we got nearer to Santiago.
We followed yellow arrows the whole way, but they got bigger and more interesting as we got closer and closer to Santiago.
During the pilgrim mass in Santiago, they put incense in this enormous thing (which I tried to get a photo of) which requires five men pulling a rope to swing it back and forth all the way up to the ceiling while dramatic music plays.
The cathedral in Santiago, at the end of the pilgrimage!
Friday, October 24, 2008
I also said something in my French literature class today, which is only a big deal for me because the class is obviously conducted in French. They had been discussing the identities of African immigrants, and Sophie asked me to speak to the class a little bit about African-American identity in the northeastern US. I managed to express my thoughts on the matter relatively clearly. Sophie actually commented afterwards that my French has improved markedly since I’ve been here, which surprised me, because I find myself increasingly aware of my linguistic deficits. Ah, well. I’m proud that I contributed a little something to class today.
Another interesting experience from this week was a class I had at the IUFM with a bunch of teachers from Algeria. It was incredibly interesting. The main topic of the day was the difference between FLE (France as a foreign language) and FLS (France as a second language)—because both terms are used here. In the US, when English is taught, it is taught as ESL (English as a second language) or something similar; there isn't a suggestion of "foreignness", there is rather a certainty that one will adopt the language and become integrated in the culture. The terminology leads to some complicated cultural tensions here—tensions which show themselves even more in Algeria than they do here in France. Funny language terminology detail here in Europe—when people talk about the “first language” they learned, they don’t mean their native language—they mean their first foreign language. That’s because everyone learns at least two. They are always puzzled when I say that most people in the US are barely proficient in one language besides English.
We had lunch with the Algerian teachers, which was cool because we just got to talk outside of the intense classroom discussion. We somehow ended up discussing holidays, and someone brought up Santa Claus, so everyone at the table looked at me, because the American image of Santa Claus is the most extreme and the most dominant. They said that kids often see Santa Claus on TV in Algeria, and asked why he never comes to bring them gifts. It really struck me when they said that, because I am aware of how widespread American culture is, but I don’t always think about the effects it has in very different countries. We had really great conversation all afternoon. When we returned to class, I was telling one of the teachers that I think Arabic writing is beautiful, so he wrote my name in Arabic! I didn’t realize that they apparently have an alphabet that’s almost equivalent to ours. The characters are obviously written extremely differently…and backwards.
Last night I went to the movies with the German teachers to see Woody Allen’s Vicky Cristina Barcelona, which was about two Americans going to Spain. Europeans are obsessed with Woody Allen, so it’s one of the few conversation points on which the American viewpoint is not challenged. We went out afterwards and had some great conversation about traveling, about the differences between France, Germany, and the US, and about what really constitutes “culture”—i.e. the division between sports, academics, and the arts. I really love talking with them. And the conversation always challenges my French vocabulary.
The movie’s Spanish setting got me psyched for the pilgrimage! Vanessa and I are leaving on a night train this evening. We have a basic layout for the trip at this point, though it’s not set in stone. The only things that are absolutely definite are our arrival and departure. Here’s the general plan:
Friday, October 24: night train to St. Jean Pied de Port (the starting point in the South of France)
Saturday, October 25: spend the day in St. Jean
Sunday, October 26: train to Pamplona
Monday, October 27: train from Pamplona to Leon
Tuesday, October 28: train from Leon to Lugo, bus to Sarria
Wednesday, October 29: we start walking! Sarria to Portomarin
Thursday, October 30: walk from Portomarin to Palas de Rei
Friday, October 31: walk from Palas de Rei to Azura
Saturday, November 1: walk from Azura to Lavacolla
Sunday, November 2: walk from Lavacolla to Santiago (the end of the pilgrimage!)
Monday, November 3: spend the day in Santiago
Tuesday, November 4: fly back to Paris
I hope to return with excellent stories and beautiful pictures!
Monday, October 20, 2008
I wrote down a lot of remarks they made, because I thought they revealed so much about the U.S., not in spite of—but because of—the fact that it was being seen from the outside. So here’s a brief overview…
Colombani spoke first and essentially said that he sees Obama as the only choice for Americans, that there will be—from an international point of view—a “before the election of Obama” and an “after the election of Obama” (like two different epochs), and that he seems to be the incarnation of the American Dream.
Ted Stanger began more of the comparative discussion between the
We talked about the difference between the 6-month campaigns in
Let’s see…what other interesting things have happened this week…
I have continued my observations at the high school, and am teaching my first English lesson next week. I continue to enjoy my literature courses with Sophie, and I have also started observing English language courses with Lek Sang. She has a very different style of teaching, but it has been valuable to learn from nonetheless. She moves at an incredibly rapid pace, and students are repeating, essentially nonstop, what others have said. It’s not always the most natural way of speaking, but it keeps everyone engaged and on their toes, and everyone’s voice is heard in some sense—which is important in the language classroom. Students in Europe learn British English, so I feel a little awkward about my pronunciation sometimes, and occasionally I encounter some vocabulary that doesn’t exist in the
Again, I am teaching my first lesson in her class on Wednesday. Something I love about French education is their emphasis on “authentic documents.” Whereas American classes rely on textbooks—which are thorough, but are someone else’s interpretation of the information—they work from real documents and put together the information for themselves. The English language book, for instance, is filled with excerpts from British/American novels, news articles, advertisements, short stories, memoirs, etc. I am going to teach an excerpt from a John Jakes novel called American Dreams.
As well as observing courses, I have also been taking education courses at the IUFM with other first-year teachers. Where we have our student teaching programs in the
Friday night was fantastic—I hung out with Vanessa, Marky (another American in our group), and a few French teachers who did the other half of this exchange, and taught in Ohio last year! We had wine and cheese, alternated between speaking in English and speaking in French, and had lots of interesting cultural discussions. They loved their time in the
Saturday morning I observed class (yes, high schools have class on Saturday mornings), which was cool. Jean-Pierre (host father from
Speaking of art, I went to a display-type event in
Yesterday was also a really interesting day. Vanessa and I went to the well-known market in
Vanessa and I came back and made a delicious lunch with our purchases, and then headed over to the Basilique (Basilica).
Speaking of religious history, we have about 10 days off starting this coming Saturday—and Vanessa and I are going on a pilgrimage in
Monday, October 13, 2008
It was hard to say our goodbyes in
I then arrived in the
I have spent a little time at my IUFM in
I have generally been trying to take advantage of my access to
Vanessa (whom I mentioned earlier) lives in
This weekend, we went to see the gardens of Versailles, where there was a big display--the fountains were on, and were accompanied with music (to which the small boy is pointing). We also went to an art exhibit called Picasso et les Maitres (Picasso and the Masters), which sets pieces of Picasso’s work next to related pieces which influenced him in some way. We were surprised at some of the influences we hadn’t quite expected, like Rembrandt. It was also cool just to be surrounded by artsy Parisians.
So, overall, things have been going well here. Though I’m not quite “in”
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Anyway, tomorrow I start my observations at the lycée (high school) Pablo Picasso, which I am really looking forward to. I am not sure when I will be able to post again, as the wireless internet in our apartment doesn't work. I am currently using a computer in the IUFM (college of education), with--my favorite--a French keyboard. Hopefully you can look for a longer post from me in the near future.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Our last week of courses in
Perhaps one of the most moving experiences we have had in
On Tuesday, I watched a few English classes in Jean Lurcat middle school. The students were all about 11 years old, so what we observed was much more about classroom management than about the teaching of English. Teaching any foreign language in a ZEP school is challenging, not only because classroom management is notoriously more difficult, but also because French is not the first language for many of the students. Just as ESL students in the
As it is impossible to generalize about an American classroom, it is impossible to generalize about a French classroom, but this one did showcase some of the classroom practices which had been described to me as somewhat “common” or at least “accepted” in
What was strange for us in Jean Lurcat was the reaction of the students to our presence. I guess I tend to think that a lot of people travel to
On Thursday, I went to another ZEP middle school, called Montaigne. I knew the day would be different from the moment we arrived. They had arranged for some of their strongest English students to give us tours of the school, both to welcome us and give the students an opportunity to converse with native speakers. My friend Therese and I were taken on a tour by a boy named Samuel, who speaks English quite well, and also studies Spanish and Latin. He told us about the school and we asked him lots of questions about his life to get him communicating extemporaneously, which he handled really well. Afterwards, we watched two Spanish classes with one of the best language teachers I have ever seen. The students in the class seemed to be around 13 years old, and it was their second year of studying Spanish. Nonetheless, the teacher conducted the entire class in rapid-fire Spanish, filling in only more complicated directions and concepts in French. She expected the students to speak to her almost exclusively in Spanish, which is surprisingly rare among language teachers (at least in the
In the teaching of any language, it’s certainly important for the students to speak, though it is then harder to monitor their behavior. The teacher at Jean Lurcat had sacrificed opportunities to let the students speak comfortably in order to maintain control, whereas the teacher at Montaigne successfully blended her role as teacher with her role as facilitator of conversation. It involved using a great deal of energy and personality, but she had a more successful lesson and fewer "classroom management issues" to address. My whole experience at Montaigne reinforced what I already knew about the importance of a teacher’s attitude and expectations. Having seen two schools in somewhat similar situations, but with very different approaches to education, I realized that attitude often does determine reality, rather than the other way around. Montaigne felt like a more welcoming, safer place. It’s no coincidence that the school that wanted to make the most of our visit by providing us with student guides was also the school with brightly colored walls, artwork, and places for the students to hang out—decorated by the students. It was a great experience for us—really encouraging and empowering, as we consider and reconsider the roles of teachers in different communities.
Monday, September 29, 2008
We met Saturday morning and took a bus to the
Before we visited the castle of Chambord, we had a little picnic outside the grounds. Our host families were responsible for sending us with lunches (which was kind of reminiscent of elementary school), and French lunches are enormous compared to American lunches, so we had fun comparing our bags of food. A couple of girls had an entire baguette and a tray of meats and cheese, just as an appetizer. If families sent sandwiches, they sent at least two. Some people had up to three different desserts. One family even offered to send along a bottle of wine. We finished up our feast and went to see the castle.
The day felt pretty long, but it was still relatively early in the evening when we returned to
I had another early start to my day on Sunday, as I went with Jean-Pierre, Marie, and two of their friends, Brigitte and Francois, to the city of
After the elephant visit, we ate lunch at a nice little waterfront restaurant, and then went to the beach. The weather was incredible (though it’s generally been cold here), and there were lots of people swimming. We walked along the shore and hung around for a while. We left from there and got home pretty late at night. I had dinner, did my homework (yes, homework), and then went to sleep. I was exhausted, but went into my week with many stories to tell!