So, I was supposed to have my own class of children at the school but for whatever reason, it just never worked out -- I think I was supposed to be doing more marketing to get kids in my potential classes but since I don't get paid for standing outside an école primaire for two hours a day passing out pamphlets, I said bugger it and that was that. Last week, there were two teachers who needed their lessons covered and since I hadn't worked with kids yet, I volunteered to do it. Though, I suppose there's a good reason that I don't have any children's classes, as I'm the only teacher there who is not fluent in french...
I had two classes of kids aged 5-6 and another of 3-4. And, man. If understanding small children in English is difficult, imagine in another language. Though It really wasn't too bad -- mostly we sang songs, played games and repeated colors, numbers, animals and body parts. One entire lesson consisted of me asking "Show me BLUE! Where is BLUE? Show me the DOG! Where is the DOG!"
As children often get distracted and end up shouting and fighting, I had to interject at times and since they didn't understand what "no hitting!" or "be quiet!" or "you come sit over here" meant, I had to resort to speaking in French, which got a good hearty laugh out of them 100% of the time and actually ended up solving the hitting problem pretty much immediately. And when I first got there, one of the little girls took one look at me and, upon realizing I was not the teacher who she was familiar with, burst into tears and literally said nothing the entire lesson. "Why are you crying?" I asked her. She looked up at me with big, watery eyes and a frozen grimace of fear and shook her head. "Sheeeeee's so shyyyyyyy," the others mocked, and that was it -- I wasn't going to get a word out of her the rest of the hour. It's no wonder we get paid more for working with children!
I have to laugh at myself, I'm so not a kid person. And these french kids, while unbelievably adorable, are so exhausting. You know how kids are, they love to tell you stories about how they know the things they know -- imagine it happening to you in french. Flawless, mile-a-minute, five-year-old french. I couldn't help but be a little bit jealous, especially when I heard perfect subjunctive formations and those amazing nuances ("meuh non!" and "ben oui!") -- I've been studying french longer than you've been alive, how is this fair?
To add a little p.s., I wanted to share some recent musical findings with you all -- I really love instrumental, post-rock, sub-pop or whatever-the-flip-people-call-it music, like The Album Leaf, Explosions in the Sky, Of Sinking Ships, etc. Lately I've been rediscovering all that music and becoming unfortunately nostalgic -- you see, I have a hugely long playlist on my iTunes for studying and reading that I used to use pretty much every time I studied throughout college and even some of high school. It's absolutely perfect for studying and writing because there are no lyrics to distract you but instead fosters an incredible sense of focus. Amazing. Listening to "Red-Eye" by The Album Leaf brings back so many sensory memories of sitting in Copely library reading and studying -- that strange smell of old furniture, the San Diego breeze creeping through the windows, the sunlight pouring in at the end of the afternoon, and certainly not to be forgotten, the sensation of desperately wanting to procrastinate, the often slow drudgery, and finally that lifting sense of accomplishment. When I listen to it now, it makes me feel painfully homesick, so nostalgic for my college life. I like to think that these bands are the reason I survived my BA in English.
Blah blah blah, emotions and nostalgia, who cares. The point is that I've now discovered some new (for me) instrumental post-sub rocking thing whatever music that I absolutely DIG -- they're called The American Dollar and I have no idea why I only just now found out about them because they've obviously been around a while. I think I'm a little slow when it comes to finding out about good music, but better late than never I suppose.
Lately I've been thinking a lot about the "dating" scene in France. I really hadn't given it much thought until I recently got into a discussion with a French person about it, when he asked me to explain what it means to be "dating" someone in the U.S. -- he didn't understand how it was possible to be with multiple people at the same time. Basically, because in the U.S. you can pretty much do whatever the eff you want with anyone until you decide that you're "exclusive" with another person. He didn't understand this concept at all because in France, as soon as you kiss someone who is understood to share the same feelings as you, you're official with them. There's no need to have that painfully awkward conversation about where you stand with the other person. It's a weird concept though, especially coming from a culture where casual make-outs with friends are not that uncommon. Maybe girls in the U.S. are sluttier? Or maybe not. Either way, I think without verbal communication, it's less clear.
It leaves so much to be said... I mean, if you don't talk to someone about where you stand with them, how are you ever supposed to know exactly how the other person feels? And then I got to thinking that in French, there is so much that goes on beneath the surface of the language, so much non-verbal communication that it's really difficult for me to grasp as a foreigner. To me, it all seems so ambiguous -- even the words "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" (mon copain/ma copine) literally translate to "my friend". So, when someone talks to me about their "friend", I'm never quite sure whether they're talking about their girlfriend/boyfriend. How's that for ambiguity? To rely entirely on non-verbal signals is bizarre, even for someone like me who really doesn't enjoy confrontations of an awkward nature.
From what I've gathered about relationships so far has been rather perplexing and it really always depends on who I'm talking to. I know for certain that here, guys must be very persistent with girls -- it's not uncommon for a guy to be turned down several times by a girl before she finally says yes. But I've talked to one person who asserted that French girls are all incredibly prudish and basically wait forever to put out, and someone else who said completely the opposite. So, really... I'm just... Whatever.
So, what I do know is rather limited and most of it comes from my own observations and impressions. Let me explain...
For one, French women are meant to be very passive in terms of approaching guys. Read: French guys will be weirded out if a woman approaches them -- they will see this as a woman making herself very available to him and thus he will think she is only interested in sex. Or they'll just be scared off entirely because god forbid you actually say what you want. I find this very strange, because what is an independent girl supposed to do? Just sit there? The alternative is to be considered promiscuous or too aggressive and that's just unfair.
Another thing is the French (like many Europeans) also have the tendency of going too far with the PDA, which is something I've touched on once already. Hand-holding, totally acceptable. An arm around the shoulder, cute. Embracing each other at a table of twelve other people... Ok, maybe you're crossing the line. But tonsil-hockey at dinner is gonna make me wanna chunder all over you and your matching Longchamps purses. And nobody else seems to notice or care, and I know I'm more particular about this subject than many people, but I really hate PDA. Barf.
One thing I will say for French guys at least is that, on the whole, they are much more romantic and well-mannered than their American counterparts. If an American guy opens the door for you, pulls out your chair, lets you go first, pays for you, even orders for you (...), it means he's into you. Totally. Not. The. Same. Here. Most of the guys I've met do it despite my protestations, even though I know we're only friends. I went to see a film with two guys and they were very weirded out when I held the door open for them and insisted they go first. They exchanged a look of uncertainty and then asked me why I wouldn't let them do it for me. And recently, I was told by one of my students that, at first, he thought I was a lesbian, then later put down my tomboy-ish qualities to cultural differences.
That's pretty interesting, I think it's very telling about the French concept of sexuality and gender. Well, I guess if being a loud, animated, soccer playing, jeans-and-t-shirt wearing, beer drinking girl in France makes you gay, it'll certainly keep the creepy doods at bay.
I have much more on this subject, but I feel I've overdone it with the length this time.... plus, I think this subject needs some more reflechir -ing Stay tuned.
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or in suitcases when anyone in the house tried to pack.
