As soon as I turned the corner I started hearing, "Ms. Allie, Ms. Allie!" (French children pronounce my name like aa-LEE). I smiled and waved and kept riding. Then one of the little CP girls started chasing after me.
"Allie! Allie!" she yelled, running down the sidewalk and across the crosswalk.
It was windy, and my hair streamed behind me in the wind. And I laughed to myself because it was so cliché that it was awesome.
In other news, Franzi came to France, and we pretty much had a terrific time.
This is what we did: walked around and sat in the parks of Angers, had a curry that I made, went to a super fun party chez Max, slept in, went to the beach at Lac de Maine, had a delicious dinner out-to-eat, went to a quieter but still fun party, slept in some more, went to Gallerie David d'Angers, had some pastries.
Franziska couldn't have timed her visit more perfectly. It was a three-day weekend, and although she left Sunday, neither of us had to rush too much; we knew we could get stuff done on the Monday. The weather was perfect. Actually it was warm then it was hot. I don't think I've been that hot since I've been in Europe. It was like being home, and I loved it.
Not to mention, it was really great to hang out with her. I have been rather melancholy as of late, which is the result of a strange vacillation between wanting to go home and see my boyfriend and friends and mourning the end of my year in France. So, it was great to have a good friend around to distract me. Plus, she did the whole year abroad thing - that would be in Memphis - so she's probably the best person with whom I can commiserate the mixed emotions of imminent departure.
In other news, everyone in France decided to strike today. Buses, trains, and teachers are all exercising their right to stike (on a la droit de faire la grève: n'importe où, n'importe quand). It doesn't bother me too much because I take my bike to work anyway. But this morning, I went to my first school, and there was absolutely no one there. I didn't even realize it at first because the doors were unlocked, so I just went into the teacher's lounge and did the things I normally do to get ready. It was very quiet, but it didn't register until I walked to the wing where my classes are. I'm not even sure those teachers were striking. At my other school, my dreaded CP class's teacher was striking, so I only helped with CM1 and left for the day.
I did get to see la manifestation, a parade of sorts with all sorts of people with flags and a guy with a bullhorn. They marched down Avenue Foch yelling some things. They didn't all seem to be from the same group. It was strange.
Oh la la!
Glad to hear you're still having fun in France!
ReplyDeleteAccording to the American news media, the French are upset and striking because the government has proposed raising the retirement age from 60 to 62.
Hey Bro. Dave,
ReplyDeleteI probably should talk about the reasons why they're striking! You're right, the French are serious about their retirement age. I don't have an informed-enough opinion, nor am I close enough to retirement (haha) to comment. Something interesting though: I read one of the teacher's letters to the parents explaining why they were striking about the retirement age. They believe that although people are living longer, it does not mean they should be working longer. In addition, they argued that the generation gap between those nearing retirement and their students is so large that it's hard to be an effective teacher. I would have to agree with the latter because, in the case of my students, we're talking over 50 years of age difference. So the ability of the teachers to relate with the student is considerable.