Les Vacances de Toussaint (Misadventures)

So, because this is France, I get a lot of this wonderful thing called paid vacation (well, in theory paid, but I'll get to that later...) This is what I have been up to.

The Politics of the French Swimming Pool
As some of you may know (ahem... Jodi), I hate swimming. Hate hate hate hate it. This is mainly because of two reasons: my inability to swim, and the fact that chlorine makes me itch all over, including the inside of my nose. But, because my family insists on feeding me a full three course meal for dinner and lunch and I can't run because I have a bum knee (although I did manage 20 minutes today--Yay!), I have braved the local public pool twice this week and have learned that, while still unpleasant, French pools have a lot to keep me distracted.

First off, this being a small town, the pool itself is not very big. What is more, I can only go during public hours--that is to say--when all family and small children are going as well. This means that the pool is very very crowded. In order to accommodate people who are at the pool to swim laps and people who are there to goof around they do the following. The lifeguards rope off the first lane, which is a little bit wider than all the other lanes. That is the lane for the lap swimmers. How does this work, do you ask? The answer is quite simple. Instead of doing the traditional back-and-forth flip-turn nonsense you would do in a regular pool, you do big rectangles, always making sure you stay to the right of the lane. This can sometime make for exciting developments.

Because of the aforementioned bum knee, I can currently only swim freestyle (actually, even when I don't have a bum knee watching me do breast stroke can be hilarious). This is a problem because French people seem to swim almost exclusively breast stroke and freestyle is naturally faster than breast stroke. If there are more than, say two people trying to swim laps at once and if we are all swimming in a rectangle that is a little bit more than one lane wide, and I am swimming a stroke that is faster than what everyone is swimming, it is suddenly like driving on a two lane highway. You have swim up right behind someone, and wait until whoever is coming the opposite direction has gone by and the accelerate like mad to get around the person before you end up in a head on collison with a innocuous-looking middle aged woman. On top of this, you get the added advantage of really getting a good look at the behind of whoever is in front you (usually a mild aged old lady) before you pass them. It's like being in a derby--you have to be strategic about when you pass somebody and how--I bet the lifeguards must get a kick out of it.

Bike-Riding

Another thing I did this weekend instead of running was a lovely bike ride along the ancien voie ferrée--the old railways.

My family had told me that they had a bike I could use, and that it was old. This is definitely true. It is also one of those bike that has fenders, and because it is old, they aren't really well held in place, and they bounce all over when I am riding and I sound like I am dragging a trash can lid behind me or something.

However, despite the racket, the bike seemed to work pretty well, so I set off along the trail, which was not paved. This made the bike clatter even more, and I spent a good portion of the ride calculating how long it would take me to walk back if the whole thing just collapsed on me without warning (it didn't).

I can't begin to explain how beautiful the countryside is here, especially because the last few days we have had a bit of an indian summer. The leaves are changing color but the haven't fallen yet and the autumn sun is glorious. People joke about there being more cows in Mayenne than people. This is probably the case, and the cows are pastured in large green fields. Happy cows don't come from California, they come from Mayenne. Anyhow, as I said, I don't really think I can explain, so here are some photos:There are still pedestrian walkways from when it was a railway. I love how overgrown this one is.

See what I mean? How could these cows not be happy?


This was my final destination: a little village. My mission once I got there was to procure a pain au chocolat (chocolate croissant); mission status: success.

The bike ride was truly lovely--I would love to make a longer trip out of it and visit multiple towns and buy a pain au chocolat in each one. Takers anyone?

And finally... The Fire Station
I have know since I first moved in with my family that my host father was a volunteer fireman. Since I have moved in my host father has also offered to show me around the fire station, and I had always though "yeah.. that might be interesting" in a vague sort of way...

The past two days I had two friend who are assistants in Laval visit, and my host-father offered to show us around the fire station. As there are not that many things to do in Mayenne, I thought it was a good idea.

It was awesome. He not only showed us around and explained the inner workings of a fairly rural firestation (a very interesting combination of high tech machinery married with good, old-fashioned French paper-oriented management), he let us dress up like firemen:

First of all, why are French firefighter helmets so much more awesome than American firefighter helmets? I mean, when I put on this thing I felt like I should have either been in some sort of Jedi training program, or have been the 3rd member of Daft Punk (coincidence that they also happen to be French? I think not).


Once we put on the costumes, a whole bunch of silly photo opportunities ensued. I think Pascale (host father) was bewilderedly amused by our antics. On top of that, we got to try on oxygen tanks, see all the emergency vehicles, and even climb in the big fire truck. I was so excited it was like I was 7 all over again. I want to be a firefighter when I grow up.

One of the most amusing stops on the tour (after we got all dressed up) was the obstacle course that the firefighters use to do training drills. We got to do the whole course in the dark. We had to crawl over things, step on uneven ground, jump down big steps. It was better than Disneyland.

I am really really lucky to be have the host family that I do. They are warm and open and welcoming and this experience was probably one of the most unexpectedly fun things I have done in a while.

Next week I am headed to Paris--I wonder what that will be like...

My love/hate relationship with French pharmacies

Side note: there will be photos soon, I have my camera and now must just remember to bring it with me somewhere and take photos and then there will be photos of my life here in France...

Ok now, with out further ado, I bring you:

My Love-Hate relationship with French pharmarcies

To start off with, I must explain that French pharmacies are nothing, and I mean nothing at all like American pharmacies. If you are imagining an American pharmacy you must stop immediately.

In an American pharmacy, you walk in and you have a pretty good idea of what is wrong with you so you walk over to appropriate aisle and spend 5 minutes look at 10 different varieties of near identical medication and end up picking the medicine that:
a) is the cheapest
b) has the most brightly colored box
c) has the best descriptive words on the outside (like gel-caps, why are gel caps always cooler than boring old tablets?)
based your personality type. Then on your way to the check out you pick up a cheap pair flip flops and a candy bar, and presto you have medication for and illness that approximates whatever illness you have with as minimal human interaction as possible.

Going to the pharmacy in France is like having a religious experience.

In order to understand how pharmacies work in France you must first understand how they regard medicine. When you go to a doctor in France they will give you at the very least three different prescriptions, even if nothing is wrong with you. One of them is always for tylenol.

When you enter in a French pharmacy, the last thing you will see is medicine all set out on counters for just anyone to take. There will be things like face wash and shampoo, but medicine? Absolutely not. Pharmacists in France act like devine intermediaries between you and the sacred potions that will cure whatever ails you. If you have, say a cold, like I did my first couple of weeks and would like somethings like sudafed so that you are not congested all the time, you have to go up to the pharmacy counter. Your interaction will go something like this:

Me: "Excuse me sir, I have a cold, could you please suggest me some medication for such an ailment?"
Pharmaticien: "But of course Madame, is your nose congested or runny?"
Me: "it is congested"
Pharmaticien: (looking thoughtful and politely concerned) "very good, very good, and what color is your snot? clear? yellow? green?"
Me: (looking alarmedly around at whoever is standing behind me, turning bright red, trying not to act completely caught off guard, and trying to pretend like I am thoughtfully considering the question) uhhh..... uhhh... yellow? maybe? or maybe it was green?(another furtive look at the mild manner old lady behind).
Pharmaticien: "very good, I will give you this" (hands me what is effectively a french version of dayquil and nyquil)

What is so fascinating is that the pharmacist seems so concerned about you while you are talking to him--like he is hanging on your every word. It's utterly disarming, and I always feel the urge to divulge more information than is absolutely necessary, and yet utter embarrasment at the fact that it was even asked. And then, after all that concern, he prescribes something like dayquil, which is probably what you or I would have picked out if we had been in the store ourselves. What I want to know is, if I had said "My snot is day-glo green (disregard the fact that I would have been unable to say this in French)" whether he would have given me a different medication.

I had a similar experience today when I went to buy a knee bracey-thing for my knee because I do a lot of walking and it hurts at night. I went to a pharmacy and told the lady and the desk that I needed a knee brace. She nodded solemnly and told me that the brace-specialist would be right with me. A couple minutes later a little old lady appeared and led me into a shuttered back room. "Which knee is it?" she asked. I pointed to my left one. A tape measure appeared in her hand. "I am going to need to measure it".
"uhhh..." (I was wearing tightish jeans). I took off my boot and attempted to role up the pant leg. It was obviously not going to go high enough.
"non, non, non, it's not going to work" said the mild mannered old lady.
I resign myself to the fact that I am going to have to remove my pants and start to take off my other boot. The little old lady says "non, non, non!." (I turn bright red) "You only have to take off one!" I look at her blankly and realize that she is talking about pant legs and then say "ohhh!" and only remove my left leg from the pant leg and leave my right one respectably covered (although if you've seen one leg, then you've seen the other, so I don't what exactly the problem with me dropping trou was, but apparently, it was innappropriate). She measure my leg and brings me a brace and I try it on. It fits, so then I get to put my pant (one leg=singular?) back on and get to head back out to the front and pay for the brace.

Every time, it's a slightly different humiliation. But they're so caring. After the embarrassment wears off, I just want to go back for more.

I now have an urge to come up with fabricated illnesses just so I can go in and ask for medication to see what they will ask me. For example, I want this to happen: "Excuse me, I have diarrhea, could you suggest a medicine?" "But of course madame, Could you please describe its consistency?".

Ahh, it's great, or maybe I've just developed a sick fascination. I wonder if the pharmacy can help with that?

Friz-bizzle

This weekend I played in my first French ultimate tournament! It also happened to be the first half of the co-ed national championships! Weird!

So anyhow, I'll try to post a recap of the weekend that doesn't bore the socks of you non-frisbee players (if I fail, sorry mom, dad, Sally, etc. and I hope that you get your socks back).

The team I played with is called Ah-ouh-puc (don't ask why, because I don't know--I was afraid to ask all weekend for fear of sounding like an idiot), which is often shortened to just "Puc". This is great because the "u" in "puc" is one of the hardest sounds for us yanks to pronounce, especially when trying to yell in an encouraging manner. Anyhow, this was a source of anxiety and stress for me all weekend (it makes cheering much harder when you are focusing on not saying "Poook"). The team itself is a very international group: there was me and 2 other Americans, an Austrian, an Italian, 2 Columbians, and, of course, a bunch of French people.
We ended up renting a giant house to stay at for the weekend, which was pretty awesome, because the entire team was in the same place which lead to some pretty entertaining evenings. It also made me feel as if I got to know everyone on the team a little better. We spent one evening telling bad jokes and the funny thing is that because there is such a difference between what languages people speak and at what levels you could pretty much tell a joke in whatever language you wanted and at least 3 people at the table would laugh (provided it was a good joke).

Tournament structure is also a lot more relaxed. Both days we only played 2 games, and on top of that, there was a break for lunch and even a place set up near the fields where you could buy delicious rillettes sandwiches (if you don't know what rillettes is, then I pity you, I really do). I had mixed feelings about this. My immediate reaction on finishing the first game was "great, we're done. Where do we play next?" and some looked at me like I was crazy was like "now, we eat lunch". Which of course means that you have to warm up all over again. Still, it seems alarmingly civilized.

I guess this would be a good time to add this detail about my weekend:
The reason for the stress about cheering was because I spent a lot of time this weekend cheering on the sidelines. This is because I sprained my knee at the end of the first game doing a classic awkward nell hesistation layout. Go me. It's a great way to introduce yourself to a team you haven't really played with before ("no, I swear I'm really good--remember that half hour you saw me play?").

The best thing about getting injured: learning how the French deal with injuries (at the time, this was not amusing but afterwards, yes). I pretty much called injury as soon as I hit the ground, because I knew something was not good with my knee. As soon as became clear to my teammates, I was immediately hoisted to the sideline by the male members of my team. When I got to sidelines I immediately asked for ice to put on my knee. I was met with a blank stare. At the time, I thought this was because in my stress I had accidentally asked for "glace" (which means "ice cream") as opposed to "glaçons" (ice cubes)--can you imagine "excuse me, could someone bring me ice cream for my knee?". After realizing my mistake, I corrected myself and asked for ice, only to be met with another blank stare. Apparently icing injuries is only for Americans, but after my insistence and much searching, someone appeared with the spray cold aerosol bottles you see used in soccer games, which helped a little.

After this fiasco, my teammates were all insisting that they take me to the hospital to see what was wrong (actually they first suggested calling the firemen). To me, this was crazy--go to the hospital?? for a twisted kneee?? are you insane?? But I got kind of strong armed into it and I discovered, to my surprise, that going to hospital in France is reserved for the grievously ill, it is also, in fact, for anyone who has a health issue that has to be taken care of quickly. So within a matter of hours I found out that rather than having a ACL tear, like I feared, I only had a sprain. It really takes the mental stress out of being injured at a tourney.

Anyhow, despite the injury, I had a good time this weekend. It was really cool group of people and I hope at the next one I'll actually be able to play more than a game.

Vignettes

Weekend

I'm really enjoying living with my family because this is a small town, and because they have a son my age it has been really nice to be able to meet his friends so that I have people to hang out with his friends. They are all boys, but hopefully I will meet some nice girls as well. I have started playing on a women's european handball team, so we will see!

Teaching… wow!

Well this has been my first couple days teaching, and let me tell you, it has been quite a mixed experience. In general, I haven’t had any flops yet. It is definitely hard to predict how students are going to act and it gives me sympathy for all the teachers I had in high school.

I had a rough start, because my first class had a scheduling conflict so there were only 3 students. I had a lesson plan that was for several more, so I had to improvise a little. Lucky for me, there was one boy in the class who liked to talk a lot in English, and so he was able to keep things rolling even though the other two students were looking at me like I was some sort of particularly odd looking alien that had just landed from Mars (they did answer the occasional question, but it felt a little like pulling teeth). It’s definitely going to take me a little while to figure out the rhythm and timing of a course.

I had a class today that went really well, but part of it was because it was a class that had chosen to take english and were therefore naturally interested in what I had to say. I think it was also because this week I have been giving a lesson on America high schools which is something that students seems to be naturally interested in. In this class, they were all raising their hands and asking questions... I felt like a real teacher!

My interesting talk with a French doctor about health care:

This weekend I am playing with the Paris club team in what I think are club regionals (this is a little unclear…). Anyhow, because it is France, I clearly need some form signed and stamped by someone professional before I can do anything. In this case, I need an official looking paper signed by a doctor saying that I can play. Today, I went to said doctor to get this paper signed, and we somehow got on the subject of health care. He was talking about how in France the healthcare is really restrictive of how doctors can operate their business—they are only allowed to charge certain amount for certain services. I then explained to him about how health care works in the US, and how there are many people who don’t have health care because they afford it and that these people often avoid seeing the doctor when they have a problem because it will cost them money and because they might establish a preexisting condition that will prevent them from getting health care in the future.

The doctor thought that this was odd, and admitted that although French people were spoiled, the alternative was much much worse. He also made an interesting point about the word equality. He said that “equality” is a word that allows the upper class to stay in power, because we can say that we are all born equal, but everything after that is based on merit. In other words, people can argue that people who aren’t well off deserve to be that way because they clearly didn’t use their opportunities as well as someone who does well. The doctor said that instead of equality, we should use the word solidarity, because this allowed us recognize that we are all human and that we should help each based on that fact, not try and show that some are innately better than other. I have to admit, it wasn’t what I expected from a country doctor, but it was an interesting and pleasant surprise.

Apparently I also have mild scoliosis that was never caught. Yay for healthcare!

When I don't post in a while it means I'm actually doing stuff!

First off, congrats to Barrio for winning regionals... not being there definitely gave me a few pangs of homesickness. You guys rock, and I hope you bring it at nationals.
To continue on the theme of ultimate, I'm pretty pumped because apparently my effort to make connections with ultimate people has payed off. I just got an email from the Paris team saying that they want me to play in the playoff for mixed club finals even though I live really far away. This not only means that I will get to play some ultimate on the weekends, it also means that if we qualify, I could go to worlds on an entirely different team (watch out Barrio! Ah ouh puc is going to be ... less than slightly intimidating). On top of that, this is a team that has a bid to Paganello, so I have also completed my goal of finding a team for that as well. Wooo! I'm pretty happy, because I've found a way to feed the addiction.

I have also picked a family to stay with! I haven't moved in yet, because they had to get the room ready and stuff, but I am still pretty excited. It is the family of a PE teacher who teaches at the middle school I am working at. He is very nice, and he has a big family that lives in a big, old classically French looking house with a big garden in the back. I will have my own room and my own bathroom, and I will be able to eat with the family as well as use the kitchen to cook if I want. They also have a bike I can borrow and they even said that I could use the car from time to time. The only downside is that I might be without internet for a month or two because they will be in the process of getting it. Hopefully, the room will be ready by tomorrow or the day after. I am looking forward to having my own space and moving out of this room at the high school.

This weekend, I went down to Laval, which is the biggest city in the département, because there are a bunch of language assistants down there and I wanted to meet them all. They were incredibly nice--it's really going to be great knowing that I can go down and visit them if I ever get a little lonely up here. As far as a city goes, Laval is just like a bigger Mayenne, with more shops and a more developed city center. I'm glad to know that the other assistants will be there, but I'm still happy to be up here because I won't have to commute every day and I like the idea of having to do things on my own.

I also went to something called "nuit blanche" on saturday with the social worker from my school. It was pretty cool; the town opened up all of the public buildings and spaces and had local artists display their work. A lot of the stuff was fun to look at or interactive. By far the coolest thing was this guy whose specialty was monumental architecture made out of cardboard boxes. The cool thing is that the structure are made by the people who are watching and he directs. It was really fun to help out. I don't have my camera yet, but here is an example of the guy's work from his website. It's pretty impressive how big these things can get. He has every tape together a level and the get everyone to lift it at once. Which is a nice feat of cooperation. Here is a video of it in action to, because I think it is hard to appreciate how awesome it was just from a still photograph.

I started introducing myself in classes today. It has been pretty fun, because it's interesting to see what the students are interested in. I think I am also a real curiosity to the students because most of them have never heard an American accent, let alone have been to the United States. I also get a lot of teenage boys asking whether I have a boyfriend or not... it's pretty amusing, and it making me less afraid of teaching, which is definitely a good thing...