Thursday, February 4, 2010

You gotta fight, for your right...

One thing that French people love to define is what one does and does not have the right to do.  For example, the French have the right to 30 days of paid vacation per year, housing assistance (if at a certain income level), and a 35 hour work week.  They have the right to eat baguettes whenever the mood strikes, to drink wine at lunch, and to drive like crazy people.
But even with all of these clearly defined rights, here is one of the phrases that any one should/will learn quickly when living in France: On n'a pas la droite - One does not have the right, on means one, but really it is used more like English speakers use you to refer to people in general.  To what does one not have the right?  Lots of things: You do not have the right to sit in the grass in the park.  The police do not have the right to enter private property without a warrant. You do not have the right to the CAF (Caisse d'Allocation  Familiales - government aid, for me, this means housing assistance) without furnishing the proper documents. (Unless you're Elvynia, who just miraculously received her money!)  All of this having/ not having the right to do such and such permeates even the minutiae of French existence.  So much so, in fact, that school children often try to tell each other what they do and do not have the right to do.  For example, "take out your colored pencils," I say to the 7 year olds.  "Color the apple red.  The apple is red." (Draw out the words for emphasis, accompany them by a coloring motion, and you'll have an idea what I look and sound like.)  Almost instantly, there are choruses of: "Cassandra/Lyed/Farouk elle a dit les crayons couleurs, tu n'a pas la droite! Allie!!! il/elle le fait avec les feutres!!!"  That's to say: So-and-so, she said with colored pencils, you don't have the right!  Allie!!! he/she's doing it with markers!!!"  It sounds so funny translated from the mouths of those small children.  I guess it's the equivalent of English speakers saying "you're supposed to/ not supposed to do such and such."  

The point:  Do you know what else one does not have the right to do?  One does not have the right to leave L'École Primaire de Jacques Prévert through the cafeteria.
Yes, that's right, on n'a pas la droite de sortir l'école par le cantine. But why?  I haven't a clue.  Today, my horrible CP class was cancelled without any warning, which was great.  Dominique, the CP teacher and directeur de l'école (the principal), had a meeting, and the CPs were distributed throughout the other classrooms.  I got to leave work 40 minutes early.  But, since Dominique was not there, and the elusive secretary was, as usual, nowhere to be found, I thought I'd leave through the cafeteria.  Why would I think such a crazy thing?  Well, first of all to leave through the front gate you have to have either a key or have someone (Dominique or elusive secretary) buzz you out.  Second of all, the bike rack is next to the cafeteria, so there's the ease of getting my bike without leaving through one gate and re-entering through another. And I have entered the school through the cafeteria.  So, I went to the cafeteria and opened the door, where I was greeted by three disgruntled cafeteria ladies who sat eating what I presumed was their own lunch.  To be polite, I asked if it was okay if I left through the cafeteria, expecting a friendly bien sûr, pas de soucis.  Instead I got: 

Normalement, on n'a pas la droite, mais vous êtes déja entrée, allez-y.

Basically, "normally, no, you do not have the right to go out through the cafeteria, but seeing as you've already entered, go on."  I was a little shocked and thus made a beeline for the door.  Only after I left did I stop to wonder, BUT WHY?  Why doesn't one have the right to leave the building through the cafeteria?  The door is unlocked.  I am not a student.  Next time, I'll ask why.

Another endearing thing that I forgot in my last post, although this was not with one of my students:
I was jogging in the promenade behind my building, and I saw this little boy looking worriedly into some bushes.  I slowed down a little, and he said something about his ball, so I stopped and looked.  His ball was stuck in a prickly bush.  Ça pique! He said.  -- Piquer is a fabulous word that means to sting, bite, or prick.  It can be used in reference to an insect, a spicy dish, or even a prickly bush.  I love the word and its multifunctionalness (I also enjoy creating nouns, like multifunctionalness). -- Anyway, I tried to get the ball out for him, but it was too far on the other side. So the two of us went around into the courtyard of the building, and I was able to pull it out. Merci, madame, he said.  I don't know, sometimes things like that just make you feel good.  It was also hilarious that he called me "madame."   

Also, the days are getting longer!  Wherever you are reading this, unless maybe you live in the Southern Hemisphere -- amy, are you there?? :) -- I guess your days are getting longer too.  Every year my mom tells me that, during the winter, she always looks forward to being able to tell that the days are getting a little bit longer.  For some reason it seems like the days have been unreasonably short this winter.  But now they're starting to get a little longer, which is great.  We've also had a couple days of sunshine, which has been even better.  It's still cold, but it's nice to know the winter won't last forever.  AND according to my book on the Loire Valley, spring is one of the best times to visit -- it's supposed to be beautiful here.


I tried to get a really cool picture of the trees outside my window.  The buildings block all but the very tops of the trees from the sun, and the sun was shining brightly yesterday afternoon.  The tops of the trees were bright orange while the rest was normal looking.  Anyway, here are pictures, even though it didn't turn out quite as cool as it looked in real life.  Proof that the sun has graced Angers with its presence, at least for a little while:


Finally, there 5 working days left until my next vacation! We leave Saturday, Feb 13th for Lisbon, Portugal.  Then we'll make our way up the Iberian peninsula to Madrid, followed by Toulouse, with a final stop in La Rochelle.  Elvynia and I have been counting down the days religiously.  I guess we've become rather French, expecting all of this vacation time.  The vacation time to which, I might add, we do have the right.

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