So long, farewell, adieu!

        It's the "dernière semaine" of classes in Bonneville! Our last class starts, as usual, with a tongue twister. Today, of course, it's supercalifragilisticexpialidocious". The kids have it mastered!

        After our warm-up, we learn Bob Marley's "One Love", because French kids and their English assistant love reggae... and attempting to sing. They've memorized the chorus! 

        We're ending the session with an English classroom favorite, "Heads Up, Seven Up". I explain the rules in English and then we clarify in French. Today, I was going over the need to lower one's thumb if selected when the class burst out laughing. I was confused, thinking I was properly explaining everything - mind you, this was the third time I'd explained the game today. I was not. Instead of saying "lower your thumb", I was saying "*&$@ your thumb". And I was saying it in front of nine year olds, who had to explain to me what I was saying, their giggles complemented with some classy hand gestures. We then took a good three minutes to practice my pronunciation. "BC BC BC BC BC" is now forever engrained in my memory and I will never utter "BEZ-ey" again.

         Finally, we eat! I am making all my classes brownies and giving them the recipe in English, along with my email and a goodbye note as a farewell! I cheated, I am using a package mix. I cannot find the right cocoa powder...and I realized that without a spatula, a big mixing bowl, or a mixer, making 400 brownies would be difficult. I already have to (get to) make my own chocolate chips by stomping on chocolate bars. I wanted my brownies to be an edible labor of love so I'm cheating but the kids love them!

         It was a fabulous first day of a sad set of last days! 

Bordeaux Bliss

     Ah, the bourgeoise bliss of drinking Bordeaux, in Bordeaux. Such was my weekend! Lively Bordeaux encouraged leisurely verbage in me this weekend: eat, drink, and shop...
     As can only be expected, Bordeaux is cork full of wine bars and Kat and I were determined to wet our palettes. Our favorite wine bars were Maison du Vin and Vinset. Luckily, Bordeaux's world class wine connoisseurs are also very patient. I'd ask for a recommendation, they'd ask what kind of wines I liked, I'd attempt to say something remotely connoisseur-esque, cut myself off mid-ramble, and ask for whatever they'd recommend. This un-planned plan worked brillantly. I tasted some amazing wines. My favorites were Campeador (which is apparently from Spain - I didn't know that as I was trying it though!), Medoc Chateau l'Argenteyre, and Chateau la Tulipe Bordeaux Superieur (my favorite!).
      I was introduced to the best little cafe. It's called Karl and it sits in a gorgeous square in Bordeaux. Without even realizing it, I walked past it three times in the past two days. Each time, either the chocolatery pastries or cheese and meat platters lured me in. After my third visit, two waiters told me (separately) that they'd see me tomorrow. I promise I indulged my palette at loads of Bordeaux-ian cafes and restaurants! We especially enjoyed ambling through the Marche des Capucins and sampled cheeses and meats and pastries galore.
      And I went shopping. At my new favorite store, Lily Blake, where I got one pair of fabulous pants and twenty outfit ideas from the fabulous owner. Also, I snagged some sparkly shoes from one of the countless bordelaise shoe shops. Bordeaux boutique-ing is a real treat. The vintage shops are also amazing.
      And, as usual, I had a major French faux pas. I met Kat at Maison du Vin one night and we meet several other young people. One guy said that he had just been "licencié". I responded, "Oh wow! That's fantastic! You must be so proud of yourself!" My smile was met with a look of sheer confusion. He informed me that I had just congratulated him on being laid off. To be fair, "licencié" is a complete "faux amis" and certainly sounds like "licensed". I tried to salvage the situation: "I'm sure this will be a positive opportunity for you - now you've got some experience and more direction so you can find the perfect job!" Again, I should not have opened my "bouche" because, apparently, this was his ideal job and was perfect in every way. L'awkward.
      Bordeaux wasn't all frivolity for me! The Musee d'Acquitaine is a true gem (#eleanorwouldbeproud). I learned all about the history of Acquitaine from antiquity to today. Particularly interesting was the exposition on the triangular slave trade in Bordeaux; harrowing but fascinating. I appreciated getting to see a French presentation on slavery.
      The weekend ended too soon and I had a train back to Bonneville. Although I sound like I'm a crazy train lady, I've been particularly excited about the nine hour train ride I took to come back. I think only my Dad shares this dorky affinity for trains. I am, however, am interested in trains because I can stretch out, not knock over twelve people clambering for the toilette. This was no disappointment. I crossed the entirity of France, from coast to mountains. I read two books and picnicked along views of the wine country, the Mediterranean, and the Alps!
      Bordeaux, from its shops to its squares, proved the perfect way to end my time in France. I had the best weekend!

L'eglise Saint Louis

Les rues de Bordeaux

Kat avec son pain au chocolat

Finalement le soleil! 

The Magic School Bus

      Ms. Frizzle and my seven year old self would have had a field day this week. I was invited to accompany two of my classes on a school field trip...to Vulcania! Massif Central is located in the middle of France. Volcanoes and geysers and craters and mines dot the region.
      The classes have been studying these topics for months so we had an interrupted three full days of volcano-mania. We went on a guided hike of a dormant volcano, explored Vulcania's many attractions and demonstrations about volcanic activity past and present around the world, explored a former mine, learned about stone masonry, and visited a geyser. We played "Heads up, Seven up!" which they loved and Musical Chairs in English ("Everyone wearing a blue shirt" finds a new seat).
      Here's a picture of us at Vulcania:

We yelled "Cheese!"

      I tried to take some responsibility off the poor teachers so I put myself in charge of medicine. This routine took a minimum of half an hour every meal time. The kids were remarkably responsible about taking their medicine and helped me measure everything. I only almost killed one of them. One girl was taking a pain medicine in powder form. She promised me she could take it before eating. So, thinking I was really on top of things, I gave her her medicine while she was still in the breakfast line. Minutes later, she threw up all over the cafeteria. And she turned green. My hands are not red, though, because she recovered (sort of) and managed to eat a bread roll hours later, although that was all. I appointed myself a medicine dispenser supervisor after that.
      The kids taught me lots of jokes so I've got my fake laugh mastered (mostly because I didn't get the French in half of them). The favorite seemed to be: Why do blonds throw bread in the toilette? Because they are feeding the toilette ducks. (Note: they think I have blond hair - my highlighting hero of a hairdresser would be so proud!) In contrast, I also mastered stifling my laughs. Kids devise the most hilarious of problems. They're right at the age when they are starting to sort things out for themselves, but this means that the majority of the time, they are professional tattletales. Someone is always kicking someone else so hard and someone is always being so mean and someone is always pulling someone's hair so forcefully. And then, of course, they are always insults being thrown about. Example: You are a "pain au chocolat". I don't even know what being called a chocolate croissant insinuates because I was so failing to stifle my laughter that I couldn't see who the alleged pastry was.
       My favorite instances occurred when two little girls snuck out of their rooms at night. The auberge was situated so that we could see the lights turning on and see them scurrying out and heading towards the stairs. We took bets - stomachache or headache? Stomachache won out, because said girl had claimed to be vegetarian all day and refused to eat anything except bread and dessert (obviously). As soon as they got near us, Miss Vegetarian started to limp (on conflicting sides) and sob. They made their grand entrance and Friend of Animal Lover had to present the situation over MV's tears. We listened patiently to the complaints and explications of all the pains in every body part and absolute exhaustion and not liking the pillow and missing her stuffed animals and oh-so-much more. The head teacher turned to the malady-ridden girl and said "I'm very sorry you are feeling so badly you can't even express yourself. Now go back to bed and tomorrow you are going to eat." Ouch. MV impudently huffed (while crying) out of the room until she thought we couldn't see her and then ran all the way up the stairs.
       I also intercepted my first love note. The class's very own Romeo (the same one who arrived at school with a rose on Valentine's Day to bestow upon the formerly uninterested Juliet) wrote the now-interested Juliet a note. Which was left on the floor. The lovebirds economically saved trees by writing back and forth on the same piece of paper, exchanging misspelled words of love. The major concern was when they would see each other again. Given that they were in the same group, on the same museum tour, on the same class field trip, for four days - and they attend the same school and are in the same class - this concern is clearly understandable. Accordingly, their notes ended with: We will see each other at break. (You know, in three minutes time.)
      The trip was a blast and I'm so glad I was invited. But you were right, Mom, teachers are so under-appreciated. Next week in class we are going to write (belated) postcards and thank yous to their teachers!
   

Ski Season's Over!

       Today was our last gendarme "sortie!" I was sad to say goodbye to the seven year olds, who have now mastered skiing more than I have...fabulous ski season in the Alps!

Roman, Pauline, me and Lily! 

Preteen Parents

          One of our topics for the week is the family. We've started with flashcards as usual. As I mentioned before, I'm enjoying coloring in my flashcards. The lack of racial diversity in ESL flashcard-land is appalling. Luckily, my students have a wide array of coloring utensils. So I've been coloring all my people to represent all races. This worked well, until we were playing "Who's missing?" and I realized that Grandma is a sallow greenish brown. Unhealthy and unappealing. Our game of "Guess Who?" similarly suffered from my bizarre color selections. I first made the board far too small. I enlarged it on the copy machine (I'm becoming a copy machine guru!) and then taped it all together...on the front side...meaning all those along the Scotch-Tape line are half-white and half-black. The class of blond children I had this morning were confused.
          A similar misstep occurred when I decided to change the words to "We are Family!". "We are family. I've got all my sisters and me!" works fabulously for practicing family member vocabulary. Except that I've been teaching "daughter" and "son" and not "sister" and "brother". Meaning, of course, that seven year olds are now blissfully singing "I've got my son and me!" #englishteacheroftheyear!

Blurry Pictures to Prove My Existence!

Brendan and me in Barcelona! 

Slainte from Siena!

Casey and me dans les rue de Lyon!  

Vatican. Casual.

Venizia

View from the top...of the Borghese Gardens

Mouill-yay

        The weather today is "mouillé". It's dreary out - wet, cold, and doing that miserable raining one moment snowing the next thing, making me look rather silly with my umbrella. In French, it's such a hard word to pronounce and I asked the students to teach it to me. I think it's important that my students think of us as teaching one another so I encourage them to help me with my French. My easy errors in French seem to give them more confidence their English "apprentissage". And I'm lucky because they are fabulous teachers. Today, I was taught "mouillé" as "moo" as in cow, and "yay" as in a rap song. Seriously, they started throwing up innocent gang signs and rapping in Franglais. Mouillé is officially memorized. Sadly, the weather forecast isn't improving so I think I'll have ample time to practice my new perfectly pronounced word.
       One of my classes had a pottery session today. I love that the children learn pottery in school! They are making bowls for their mothers for Mother's Day. I was delighted to see all the "I love you, Mom!'s" written across many bowls. I took advantage of the art time to color my flashcards. It's quite pricey to print in color, so I've been printing in black and white. Meaning, of course, that I get to color the flashcards in! My students have a cornucopia of colors - in colored pencils, crayons, and markers. This often results in creatively colored flashcards - like fushcia basketball uniforms with lime green shoes. I like to think that this just makes it easy for the kids to see the colors. Anyways, in the midst of my coloring craze, I had a chat with one of my students about the United States. She was telling me about a TV program she watched with her parents about the death penalty in the US. We discussed why it exists and how terrible it is. The insights kids have are remarkable. To them, it's simply "wrong" which is so much more effective than my lengthy explanation of all the cons as I tried to fairly list the pros some see. Wrong is wrong. 
        In more positive news, their pottery turned out wonderfully and their "mamans" will be delighted.