A Crash Course in French Pedagogy?

Orientation was today, from 9am until 4pm or so. It was exhausting. The morning portion of the lecture was presented in English, which was poor preparation for the rapid-fire French which followed lunch.

Let me backtrack. The morning session somehow managed to both clarify the expectations, and make everything seem very, very uncertain. Essentially, we learned a lot about the educational hierarchy in France. For example, I have a conscription to the IEN (Inspecteur de l'Education Nationale) of Aubervilliers 1. That means that the random office I showed up to is their headquarters, which is more or less like a District Office that happens to not be near any of the schools. I report directly to the teachers with whom I work, the directors (principals, I guess) of my schools, and then to the national Inspecteurs as well. Ugh, talk about a food chain. We also spent a fair amount of time discussing paperwork that we owe to the government and such, which was very helpful if slightly nervewracking.

We then went over to a nearby high school for lunch in the cafeteria. The lunch was by no means better than lunch in a cafeteria in the US (some things are truly the same everywhere). On the other hand, my lunch was on all glass plates and there were distinct courses. Also, when you arrive at your table, you discover that there is a pitcher of water and a bottle of wine waiting for you. That's almost enough to compensate for an educational system that leaves much to be desired!

Post-lunch we were split up into departements (think counties, I guess) and by age range. I was with all of the elementary school assistants for Seine-Saint-Denis. What they tried to tell us tactfully was basically that we're in the ghetto. They did, however, hasten to add that there is a lot of sensationalism in the media -- in fact, the analogy the directrice used was "It's like Fox News giving updates." Ha! We shall see, I guess. On the plus side, we found out today that over the next three weeks we have four more orientation sessions and a week of observation before they set us loose. That's a relief, seeing as I've, oh, NEVER TAUGHT BEFORE!

Most interesting in a less technical way today was the description of French pedagogical methodology. The things that stuck out to me were:
1. In France, students have typically been taught that that the best grade is unattainable because it is perfection. Well, so much for grade inflation I guess!
2. The emphasis is very much upon communication, but students are afraid to respond because the fear they will lose points. So much for class participation. Evidently teachers are known for silencing their students at all costs. Sooo... awesome. Not.
3. Everything should be task oriented -- don't do things just for fun or because they're interesting, everything needs to have a very direct tie-in to real life and things the kids can apply it to. I guess this one makes sense, but still, I'm not sure I really know how to tie EVERYTHING back into real life with a six-year-old. They aren't living real life yet!

Also, some of the previous assistants commented that their first impressions were of how strict teachers are here compared to ours at home. Gulp. Especially since I'm in a sort of tough area, the teachers don't take any crap at all. They also are required to stay in the classroom to monitor the situation. As the directors explained, as an assistant, I'm only there to teach. The teachers are there to manage student behaviour and everything. I guess that's a good thing, but the teachers will frequently yell at the kids for talking in class, not realizing that the activities that we have them doing necessitate talking (uh, we're teaching a foreign language, guys).

I'm looking forward to getting up close and personal with the French educational system, but I am certain that it is going to be very difficult for someone like me to accept a lot of aspects of it. This will be when I finally learn to shut up, I guess ;) At any rate, the thing I got out of today's proceedings that struck me the most is the sort of nonchalance with which the French approach heavily bureaucratic endeavors like this. So I guess I'm going to sit back and take it à la française, for now.

Only in France can a meeting leave you with less information than before you went.

This morning I solemnly vowed to go to the address listed on my contract and speak to someone about what, exactly, they expect from me. I met with one of the inspectors for the district, and she was really nice -- although she informed me that she still doesn't know which schools (plural, drat) I'll be placed in. She did, however, note that I prefer the youngest kids, so that's good. Six and seven-year-olds I think that would be.

She also let me go through a pile of English books to pick out some to borrow. I borrowed a bunch of storybooks, my preference, and one pedagogical book with lesson ideas. The other pedagogical books were very, very British, and I refuse to pretend to be British. What peeved me most was that the things they teach the kids aren't things I've ever heard of ... perhaps British-isms. But I saw that they teach a version of Old MacDonald that refers to MacDonalds, as in, fast food restaurant. WTF. The lyrics were about hamburgers. No. Absolutely not. I will not support this stereotype regarding Anglophones.

After I got home from Aubervilliers and this meeting, I meandered from my apartment back to my old foyer to visit and to make a photocopy of part of my passport for French Immigration paperwork. I went up to the "seventh" floor of the foyer to the rooftop terrace, which I maintain, is the best view to be had of Paris. If you're facing this way, the Eiffel Tower is in front of you (along with Invalides), you can lean out to see Sacre Coeur to the right, Montparnasse is to the left, and behind you on your left is Val de Grace. You can see every major monument from here, and it's awesome!



Dear Dave, Molly takes after you. Love, Mollyariotti. Thought you should see this highlight from our earlier videochat. I told her she looked just like Daddy.



Finally, one for you Mommy: Remember how we saw that Barilla commercial on TV and when it said it's number one in Italy or something like that we wondered if it were true? Well, Barilla's in France at least. Tastes the same, too.



Orientation tomorrow, it's going to be a LONG day.

I think we call that a "bonne signe."

The way I see it, I must be doing something right when French people stop to ask me directions, which is precisely what happened when I headed toward the Louvre to meet up with my friend Giacinta this afternoon! I was pleased to know that I was reasonably well disguised, and I was able to tell her where to go. Ten points for me!

The next thing I saw on my way to the Louvre was a bus with "Voiture Ecole" in the front where it normally says which route the bus is. It took me a half a second to realize that this was full of bus drivers-in-training, which made me laugh ... I'd never thought that I'd stumble up on a bus teaching drivers in Paris I guess.

Finally, as you can see in the picture below, I arrived at the Grande Pyramide du Louvre, which was where I was supposed to meet Giacinta. While I was waiting for her, I did some quality people-watching ... And I saw something I wish I could un-see. There was a decently large group of probably tourists, and NOT ONLY were all of the men wearing large backpacks (which is fine, you're a tourist, we've all been there, whatever) BUT, far more egregious, they were wearing FANNYPACKS! God help me if I ever see a guy I know wearing a fannypack. No joke, I saw at least six men with this combo. UNNCESSARY! You can have a backpack, or you can have a Man-purse (murse), but you ABSOLUTELY cannot wear a fannypack. Ever. No. NO. Not to mention, if you have a backpack, I hardly think you need the extra storage space of a fannypack. I have three words for you: Bring. Less. Crap.



So Giacinta and I wandered for quite some time through Rue de Rivoli and towards Madeleine, where we stopped at a café for a late lunch, and proceeded to hop on the Metro and go to an appointment to see an apartment that she had found. It was alright, but I'm certainly glad I don't have to go through all of that!

While over there (near M° Rome), I saw the sign below... I guess I didn't zoom quite enough, because it's a bit difficult to read, but that green awning says "Alcools and Strange Wines, Fruits, Legumes [etc.]" which in case you weren't sure, is a bizarre Franglais combination ... I believe by 'strange wines,' they are attempting to say foreign wines, but I was amused by this version. I'll take a strange wine over beer ANY day.



Then, after a brief break at home, I headed to my friend Raphaele's house for dinner. I know Raphaele from orchestra at the Sorbonne, and our mutual friend from orchestra, Arthur, joined us as well. Raphaele's friend Joseph was there too, and it was fun to hang out with friends for the first time in awhile!

I'm going to force myself to go to bed now, as I'm planning to go crashing into the school I'm supposed to be working in to find out what they want from me tomorrow. I start Thursday, as far as I know, and they've said nothing. Ugh. Teaching. Who would ever want to do THAT?! ;)

Imagine Thriller, sung by people who don't know what a "th" sound is.

The past few days have been very... busy. Saturday morning I started off bright and early with the first orchestra rehearsal of the year. It was great to see the professors and my friends again, and of course I was thrilled to be able to continue playing the violin! This is the Malsherbes building for the UFR music school (It's in the 17th arrondissement, or the upper left-hand part of a map of the city). This is after you walk through the gate thing and down a corridor to the main courtyard. It's funny, courtyards in the US seem to be more of an afterthought, or the product of a strange architectural turn; in France, courtyards are important parts of everything. They have personal parking, they have benches or gardens, they give people somewhere to look out on that isn't more building ... Maybe it's like this in cities, but this is the only city I've ever lived in, so I could hardly say for sure.

At any rate, the music we've been given so far is great -- Beethoven's Symphony No. 6, "Pastorale" and Beethoven's "Fantasia in C Minor, "Choral Fantasy." We have our sectionals (and sometimes full string rehearsals) on Thursday nights from 7-10pm, and the full rehearsals are on Saturday monrnings from 930-1230. It takes me about 25 minutes or so to get to rehearsal, so that makes for some early Saturday mornings. Something tells me our programs this year are going to be difficult -- we have several "week-end de travail" (work weekends) listed on the calendar ... That means double sessions both Saturday and Sunday, or a grand total of 12 hours of rehearsal in one weekend. Usually they're right before the concert, but it looks like we might be having a few extras. Yikes.



This was a motley crew of student musicians outside the Luxembourg Gardens. I've seen them before, and they're great, because the cover a wide range of pop songs with a full brass section. Cracks me up. When I walked over I'm pretty sure they were playing Gangsta's Paradise/Amish Paradise/ Whatever the name of that song that Stevie Wonder originally had was. It's infuriating sometimes, because you can recognize the tune, but the name of the song just WONT come to you. They're very charismatic though, so it's fun to hear and see them play.




This is the back side of Saint Sulpice. I decided to take an alternate route to the Cafe de Luxembourg, where I met up with the Parisian director of my study abroad program and her new group of students (among whom is my friend Kristen, from Binghamton). I was so happy to see Celine, after all, it has been a year and a half! It was fun to talk to kids doing the program now, and remember how it seemed to me when I was only just arriving and settling in at that time (Kim and Josh, I'm sure you can appreciate this)! I'm excited for them, and I'm really happy to know I'll be seeing a lot more of Celine and her family this year :)



Last night (Saturday) I met up with a few girls I used to live with in the Foyer International des Etudiantes, on Bd Saint-Michel (foyer = dorm). It was GREAT to see them again, and we had all been put on the list to get into a club, CAB (for Cabaret) for free. It's near the Louvre, in the Place du Palais Royal, and it was a fun club as far as I'm concerned -- free, and playing good dance party music. I forgot, however, that I am no match for French clubbing ... we stayed out until 430 or so, and then walked home because the late night buses were crappy for our needs. I got home at 515. Phew. The highlights, however, were:

1. When the DJ played Thriller and all the [presumably] French people were singing along. Ze French are known for zeir inability to pronounce the "th" sound. I was amused.
2. When the DJ played an Irish step song, and then added in a house beat. Felt years of Irish step dance classes bubbling to the surface, and had to desperately jump around to avoid busting out an old reel or two!
3. When a string piece came on, and I realized in .2 seconds that it was the theme from Pirates of the Carribean, which I have thoroughly played to death in every orchetra I've been in since that movie came out. Then the DJ added a house beat and everyone else kind of figured out what it was. Niceeeeee.

Tonight I also went to an informal meet-up for all the other English Assistants in my region. It was a pretty hefty group, but we ended up splitting into bar-goers and food-eaters. Naturally I sided with the food eaters, because restaurants have food, AND alcohol. Win. There were seven of us at dinner together in the upstairs of a restaurant in the Latin quarter, and we all had fun. It was nice to bond with other people that have the same fears and difficulties as I do ... and we've all agreed to form a Grad school support group, since many of us are working to apply to various graduate programs! I might even be able to have a GRE buddy, as one of the other girls is planning to take them in Paris as well. Made me feel less panicky about the copious amounts of paperwork I've got to acknowledge.

The video below is from my walk home. On my way back to my apartment I cut past the Place Saint Michel, and the usual nighttime street performers were out. There is always a group of dancers in front of this Gibert Jeune, which is a bookstore. The first song they did was even cooler than the part I've recorded (below), but I didn't think to take out my camera in time to catch it. Ahh, well, next time!



Finally, one little rant. I know that people are into being healthy and not having chemicals and genetically engineered food and all, but I think seedless grapes are a WONDERFUL thing, and I am peeved by the fact that I can't find them in France. SERIOUSLY? It takes forEVER to eat grapes when you have to pick out all of the little seeds! OK, I'll let it go. No, that's a lie, I won't. Seedless grapes, guys. It's not that hard.

And ERDF said, "LET THERE BE LIGHT!" And hot water, heat, and electric currents.

So today I spent the morning waiting for ERDF, the French electric company, to send someone to turn my power on. Fortunately, he showed up, and better yet, he showed up around 130 or so, so it didn't waste my whole afternoon!

The weather was beautiful, so I wanted nothing more than to go wander the city. I set off with the vague idea of heading to BHV -- think Sears I guess, only 6 stories high and in the center of Paris -- to find some random stuff my apartment lacks. I wandered down Bd Saint Germain, cut over to Bd Saint-Michel, and headed towards the Saint-Michel fountain.

For a change, I tried to walk at a leisurely place. I probably looked like a moron, because I instinctively haul and weave through people, and I would suddenly catch myself and slow down and all the people I'd hurried past would hurry past me. Oops.



The order of these pictures is reversed because apparently I'm incompetent with uploads, I'll do better next time, I promise! Mommy, this one is for you -- this is that restaurant in the Latin Corner that we went to when you came to see me, with the nice man who loved your Canadian accent! Remember how good the escargot was?



Kim et Josh -- à vous. Je sais qu'on a tous de belles histoires de nos aventures dans ce quartier, surtout au Latin Corner Café :) Je sais pas la raison pour les ballons, mais voilà, c'est comme toujours!



On my way back towards Bd Saint-Germain I cut past Notre Dâme and then headed through the Latin Quarter (see above). It was packed over there, as usual.



The view from one of the bridges seemed like the quintessential Paris picture, so I felt obliged.



This one is for you, Lin: This is the school and craft supplies floor of BHV (which I today learned stands for Bazar de l'Hôtel de Ville), and even French kids need their TI-83 ... or whichever fancier new one has appeared since my geometry days. I think graphing calculators are cheaper in euros ... must be made in the good old USA.

For the record, while I was wandering BHV, they were blaring what sounded like Madonna's greatest hits in the music section. Awesome. I danced past the post-it notes to Like a Prayer. In the grocery store later on I got to listen to Coldplay.



This picture is as much of the Hôtel de Ville as I could get my non-wide angle lens to fit into one picture. It's not actually a hotel, that's what they call their Town Halls. Wish the Village of Manlius looked this imposing ... FOUND MY CAMPAIGN PROMISE!




I'm keeping a count of how many of these I can find in the city of Paris ... this is one of two or so I've even noticed so far.



This is my apartment building! That little blue number on the dark door is 30, Rue de Grenelle in the 7e arrondissement. I live on the fourth floor, which, to the French, could be anything from the fifth to the eighth floor.

Now that I FINALLY have electricity, I needed to go real grocery shopping. I forgot how intense grocery shopping is in a walk-up ... never mind hiking back from the grocery store halfway down Rue de Rennes to my apartment!

All in all, a leisurely day. Orchestra is bright and early tomorrow morning, so I guess I'll have to head to bed at a reasonable hour tonight!

Welcome to my space-efficient home!

So this is the view from my door , which is under the bed. That little bit of door beyond the corner of the yellow microwave is my bathroom, which is not quite as tiny as I had been expecting. The microwave is sitting on a chest of drawers.


The next picture is the view from my bathroom door looking out. The counter is at the immediate left here, so you can't see it too well, but it's your standard two hot plates and sink combo, with a sizeable fridge built in underneath.


To the right of all this is where that yellow microwave is, which is where I have a typical tall French window (looking in on the "courtyard" center of the surrounding buildings) and a little kitchen table that unfolds to be pretty decently sized, and has two little stools that get stowed underneath it on a built in cart. Very IKEA model room-esque.

It may be small, but I've survived dorm rooms that I liked far less (and that also contained people I disliked (NOT YOU DANA)), so this really doesn't even rank on the discomfort scale. I mean, I'm the stupid older sister that had first dibs on bedrooms when we moved from Connecticut to Manlius and chose the tiny bedroom, because it was 'cozy.' Go figure.

One small problem -- no electricity. No one seems to know what's wrong, but after many phone calls and frantic discussions, the ERDF (French electric company) should be paying me a visit tomorrow. Keep your fingers crossed! On the plus side, the internet works, and if I had to choose between the two, I think I might prefer having the internet. At least briefly, the hot water heater is electric, and I can't sustain sink showers for much longer ... Or can I? KIDDING. Geez.

Your in-flight service today will be nonexistent, and in a language that isn't real. Please enjoy your flight!

Not to be highly offensive, but Iceland? Yeah, no. I knew it was going to be good just about the moment we got on the place to Reykjavik, because there were Icelandic newspapers that you could take. The letters aren't real. Absolutely not. I know this because they use letters that I haven't even used in math classes, and that's right about where I draw the line. On the other hand, they put funny labels that kind of poke fun at Icelandic on all their appliances and such, so maybe they aren't too caught up in the "imperialism of the English language," as the French like to call it (except in French, obviously).

Icelandair also doesn't believe in serving food. If you want it, you buy it. May I suggest sticking to the vegetarian options? I always think I want something with meat, and I ALWAYS regret it. Even on AirFrance. Oh, and for those of you that asked, alcohol is not free on transatlantic flights. Sorry to burst your bubble. However, those Duty-Free shops seem to open earlier than anything else (I might know some girls who may possibly have been weighing that as an option in oh, Reykjavik because real food wasn't open) ...

Going through Customs was required in Iceland because it was my point of entry into the EU. Evidently US and Canadian security does not comply with EU requirements. I think they were trying to imply that the EU is more strict, but I'm not buying it. Reykjavik at 6am is roughly as crowded as Syracuse at peak hours, and it still takes twice as long to get through security in Syracuse. So the EU can bite me.

Purely by chance I ended up sitting in between two other girls roughly my age, that were headed to Paris to do precisely the same thing I am! One is actually stationed in Réunion (near Madagascar), so she's just visiting Paris on her way, but the other is in Bobigny, which isn't too far from Paris (much like my job in Aubervilliers). At least we were all eager to share stories, so the five hour jaunt into Iceland seemed far more painless. Unfortunately, the Iceland airport is less ... lively ... than you might expect around 6am, so we were starving and thirsty and nothing opened until 7am. Oh well, I got to see distant glaciers and volcanoes!

We arrived in Paris sans incident - can't lie, a little part of me was relieved to be on a Boeing 757. I know Airbus is French and all, but I like my planes in the sky, as a general rule. We then waited what felt like hours for the luggage to decide to appear, and hopped on the RER back to Paris, where we all parted ways.

That's when things started to get interesting ...

I AM THE GOD OF ALL THINGS PACKING!

I just feel that I need to elaborate on the fact that I achieved the highly improbable by fitting a whole lot of crap into one not-so-obnoxiously large suitcase. Look at this pack job!

OK, so yes, a seam did start to split after the SYR to JFK flight, but I brought a sewing kit, so I did some excellent repair work while waiting to check-in and get my tickets :)

I win!

In other news, it weighed in at a solid (and I mean SOLID) 53 lbs. but fortunately both Delta and Icelandair looked the other way. Judging by how much my shoulders hurt, the purse is probably another 30ish, and although the violin is only 15 or 16, I have to allow for the copious amounts of crap I crammed into various pockets and round up a bit. My shoulders may never forgive me.

The Things They Carried.

I have vowed to bring no more than one checked bag -- partially because my apartment is too tiny for much more than that, partially because I'm spiteful and I don't want to pay Delta more, partially because I'm going to have to carry this stuff all by myself, and partially because I like a challenge.

That said, this could be interesting. All of this stuff has to fit into one bag (and not weigh more than 50 lbs!), my violin case, and the biggest "purse" I can find. Did I say all of this? I meant all of this and more. Curses.

The Beginning (sort of).

As you are may be aware, I'm heading to Paris in just three weeks, and time is flying (as Foer said, 'Each day has been chained to the previous one, but the weeks have had wings'). Something tells me I'm going to wake up one of these days and realize I'm getting on a plane, so I'm getting this started on the early side.

For now, this is a test, just to make sure I'm fully capable of making a functional blog. Besides, how could I send out a link and not even make a token post?!