Let's Give Them Something to Talk About

***This post was started on Monday, but then I was crippled by the worst bout of food poisoning I've had in a long time. I'm back from the dead and wanted to finish my thoughts here***

We've been living here six months and this is the first time our lives will be somewhat disrupted because of the French going on strike! Quite remarkable to make it that long, I would say when striking is the national pastime/competitive sport for the French. Tomorrow's strike will effect us because all the school teachers are going on strike and Lily won't have school!

Lily is holding what I call the "the communication" book. It's a blue book which comes home from school with her every once in awhile. In it are pages with photocopied notes glued to them. The parent is supposed to read the note, sign the notes, and then return the book with the child the next day.

This note was sent home on Friday. Phil and I read it together and he told me there was going to be strike this Tuesday. The note also mentions something about "pique nique" for the kids who normally eat the school provided lunch (pique nique is the French way of saying bring your own lunch). We were really confused.

Today, I think I finally have figured out what's happening tomorrow. And I learned all this by HAVING MY FIRST EVER CHAT WITH ONE OF THE OTHER MOTHERS!!! I had the perfect opportunity to finally open my mouth and practice some French as we waited together for the kids to be dismissed at the end of the day (she seems friendly and normally says "bonjour" to me). I carefully crafted the French words in my head so I could ask her the question about the strike. And then, I just blurted it out...and she smiled and answered me!

So it's a huge break though! (No one has really talked to me since we started going to the school at the first of the year...they stare and sometimes smile, but nothing goes beyond that). I've been jokingly studying up on weather vocabulary, so I could initiate some kind of conversation with one of the mothers. But who wants to talk about the weather, when you can talk about the strike! It's so much more French anyway!

The One Hour "Carnival"

Last week, we went to our very first function at Lily's little school. I had big expectations...breaking into the parent's inner circle, a personal update from Lily's teacher on her progress and behavior, and a glimpse at Lily interacting with the friends she talks so much about. But, expectations are always dangerous. And I should know better than to set myself up for nothing but disappointment.

The school had a dress up, masquerade party for the kids. It had something to do with Mardi Gras and Easter season. The French don't really do Halloween, so I guess this is the time of year kids get all dressed up. And the costumes did NOT disappoint.

The little program was in the afternoon. We sent Lily to school with her princess costume in a bag for her to change into later with her teacher's help. When we arrived at 2:30 and I saw the amount of makeup on all the other little girl princesses, I was worried that I didn't take the event seriously enough. But my fear subsided when I first saw Lily-- from thirty feet away, through a window, I could tell she was wearing blue eye make up and red, red, lipstick! Whew...she wouldn't be the only princess not wearing makeup.

Anyway, so we showed up and the kids were still in their classrooms. All the parents and grandparents were issued out to the playground area to wait. After a couple of minutes, all the kids came out, holding hands in a single file line for a parade. There was salsa music playing in the background. The "Marcaraina" was brought back to life by these three, four, and five year-olds!

But then that was it. The only organized event was the little parade out of the building into the recess area. The kids were then set free for the next forty-five minutes. Where was the concert of songs I was expecting from the kids? Where was the "welcome and hello" from the directer of the school? No one else seemed to mind or even notice.

So while the most of the kids ran around the very small and crowded playground laughing and screaming, Phil, my mother in law, Lily and myself (the foreigners who had no idea what to do) just stood there and watched the mayhem. And that's when I realized that I had set my sights too high for this school function.

Lily was totally overwhelmed (and tired) and didn't really play with the other kids once the little five minute parade was over. She pretty much huddled around me the entire time. I didn't really talk to any other parents. On the up side, I did smile and get some smiles in return from a couple of the parents, so maybe that's a break through of some sort. Lily teacher's didn't have time to talk with us--the scene was pretty chaotic so any sort of chat was impossible.

After forty-five minutes of watching kids run around, the parents left and the children were bribed back into the school building by their teachers with the promise of a chocolate treat. And that was the end. Elaborate costumes, all the parents there...but nothing else. It seemed very strange to us...no program of any sort, no announcements of any sort, no real POINT of any sort.

Next year, I'll know not to get a babysitter for Zachary. And I'll send some red lipstick in the dress up bag with Lily's costume. Regardless, she was the prettiest princess there!

A Case of the Pre-Mondays

Just checking in to say I'm sorta having a serious case of the blahhhhs...so I'm not really into writing about much right now. There have been a couple of noteworthy events, which I will get to this week, but on this Sunday night, I'm just not capable of the undertaking at the moment.

In happy news... not everyone can rave and brag about their mother-in-law, but I can. She is here with us now, walking Lily to school, and spending the mornings with Zachary so I can continue at the language school...she does the dishes, and folds my laundry and doesn't mind my less-than-spotlessly-clean-house and thrown-together-meals. She is an enormous help and blessing.

But as I saw her US money that she was careful to keep separate from the Euros in her wallet, I had a crushing wave of homesickness come over me. She gets to go home after three weeks here with us...to "normal" stuff. But we've barely put a dent into our three YEAR commitment to this place. And three years is feeling like a very, very long time right now.

Things at my language school are going fine. I felt I made tons of progress in the first two weeks, but I'm feeling like my speaking has plateaued right now. Most weekdays I walk out the doors of the school with a little bit of confidence, but on days like today, after three hours at our little church, I realize how little I know. I am confronted again with how helpless I am to get my point across...and it just frustrating...and exhausting...and demoralizing...

So, on this Sunday night, I'm missing America. I'm missing English. I'm missing my family. I'm missing have US dollars in my wallet. I'm missing the predictable comforts of "normal". And since my mother-in-law has known me since I was thirteen-- and watched me grow up through middle school, braces, boyfriends (HER son), college transfers, wedding planning and babies being born-- this won't be the first time she sees me a little bit emotional. I guess her being here is a just enough of a taste of "normal" that it makes me miss all the rest!

I will resume funny commentary on French happenings in our lives this week...tonight, I'm just having a pity party for myself.

Unexpected Asian Friends in France

I'm loving my time at the little French language school. The instructors are fantastic teachers, and they are also excellent actresses. Actresses? Why? Because there are two Asian girls in my class who don't have the luxury of all the French/English cognates. And the teachers take great care to ONLY speak French while inside the building, so sometimes, in order to get their point across, introduce or explain vocabulary, they must play a game of charades. It's quite entertaining for me to watch. It makes the four hours of sitting at a table go by quickly.

I asked the girls today if I could take a picture with them. They were beyond delighted. Missu is from Japan (she is the girl in the black). She is living with a French family for the six months she is here to learn French. She is hilarious and expressive and very hard worker. Chun Ping is from Taiwan (she is wearing glasses) and is in France because she is going to marry her French boyfriend very soon. (I asked her how she communicates with her boyfriend because she doesn't speak very much French at all...she told me he speaks Chinese). Chun Ping is much more reserved but she too works very, very hard.

As I sit there in class I'm amazed at how hard these girls' brains must be working. I mean, they don't even use the same characters...looking at the alphabet is all foreign to them. They both have electronic dictionaries that they furiously type words into in order to follow along with the class. And they too are excellent actors as they too try to find words to be understood.

Today, Missu discovered Skype for the first time. The other American in the class had his laptop with him and in order to explain it to her, he just dialed her home phone number in Japan. What happened next made me cry....she was able to talk to her Mom for the first time in two weeks. (She had just been buying calling cards--which are very expensive here--and so she wasn't talking with her family very much). Anyway, you can see from the pictures what a big deal it is for her. She asked the teacher to come and say hello because she wanted to assure her Mom she was at school!

So, I'm learning tons and tons at my school. Like a nerdy, nerdy student, I totally love every minute of it, and I am smiling for nearly four hours straight. As I sit there, I'm reminded of how big the world is...which is a good reminder for me not to be so obsessed with my little "world". I'm very thankful for this opportunity to meet these new friends.

PS--hearing French with an Asian accent is just too funny to explain.

What Not To Wear--The Playground Edition

I took the kids to the playground by the sea today. It's been coolish and rainy all week, so today's sunshine was a treat for everyone.

I love being able to walk to this happening area...there are restaurants and crepe stands and sandy beach fronts and a giant playground...sounds wonderful, chic and upscale, right? But you should also know there are "pay to jump" trampoline stands, kiddie size go-cart tracks, and right now, there is a traveling "farm" underneath big, white circus-looking tent in one of the parking lots, blaring music from their speakers. The whole scene is kind of Myrtle Beach-esque with a French flair. And it is this area that offers some of the best people watching in town.

Here are pictures I was secretly taking of the "folks" watching their kids at the playground...sorry, some of the pictures aren't the best...I was trying to be discreet...you know, like act like I was taking pictures of my kids and then swinging the camera around to snap the shot of the unsuspecting fashionista. (I would recommend clicking on the pictures so you can make the images bigger).

Are people in the States wearing shorts with tights and boots? Because here it is all the rage. Do not miss this woman's cigarette in her hand. She is classic Toulon if there ever was a candidate.

I think I had a sweat suit like this when I was in fifth grade. Don't miss the hair color. I'm pretty sure it wasn't natural (but neither is mine, so I'm not judging).
Angsty family. Mom wears denim skirt with black tights and boots. Who doesn't own a V-neck shirt with a fake black fur neckline? And don't miss that everything she is wearing is black.
More of a Bohemian look...black leggings and silver shoes...and layers and layers of shawl??? Her daughters are embarrassed because she's one of the only Mom's not wearing knee high boots.
Another classic outfit. Longish sweater that hugs the buttocks with black tights...and black boots, of course. The points this lady would have lost for not wearing any fake fur were given back to her because she is wearing a leather jacket. She passed the animal test with that. Whew, that was close.
Something else I haven't figured out...silver leg warmers that peek out over the tops of the boots??? And you still have to wear the black leggings? The jacket is typical. I'm not sure hers is real leather, so maybe that's why she went with the fake fur "hood".

Denim capri pants, with hose, with black boots. And a fitted jacket. Really? Denim capris?

Clothes are expensive here, so I guess you need to make a statement with them. What did I wear to the playground??? Jeans, a cardigan, and my walking sneakers....classic Sarah. It's just so funny to me because in America I wear cardigans and jeans everywhere to fit in, not be noticed, or draw any attention to myself...but today I stood out more in my outfit than these ladies did in theirs.

école pour moi

I've been waiting for this day since Thursday October 22nd 2009. On that day, JP picked up our family at the train station in Hyères. We had just arrived and we were moving into our little vacation rental to begin our life here. JP said to me, "Do you speak French, Sarah?" "No, I don't," I sighed in total frustration. "Oh," he says, "there's a good school here in Hyères...you should go...it will really help you." Soon after my chat with JP, I met another American who went to the school. She is married to a French man and raved and raved about the school...she went there herself to learn the language.

And that was that. Some pivotal moments where I set my heart on, and closed my brain, to all other options for learning French other than this school. Its been nearly four months since those conversations, and as I drove to the French language school in Hyères this morning, I was so emotional about it I was crying tears of joy for the majority of the commute. I know, I know, I'm a little bit of drama queen, but until you live in a place where you CANNOT communicate, where you CANNOT accomplish simple tasks, ie, getting a hair cut, taking your kid to the doctor, ordering at a restaurant, getting out of a parking garage with no money, it might be hard understand the level of frustration I am coping with. Today was a big day for me.

God is good, and His timing is perfect. Although, I'll readily admit I have been an impatient, grumbling person waiting for His timing...He IS faithful. Because now, all the details that took us four months to work out have fallen into place. The "details" mostly revolved around my kids and finding people to watch them. But even the way the "babysitting" schedule has come together is too good to be true. This first week, we have a college student here with them. Then Phil will be with them for a week. And then my totally giving, be-there-in-a-second-to-help-you, Mother-in-law is coming for three weeks to stay with the kids. At the end of March, my parents will be here, so the kids will have another week of Grandma loving. All in all, I have six straight weeks of childcare, mostly with family, lined up...six weeks for me to concentrate uninterrupted and undisturbed at this school to learn French.

What's so great about this school? I'm most excited about the schedule. Classes are five days a week for four hours in the morning. I can be home by one o clock in the afternoon and resume my mothering/wife/homemaking duties. The school is very small. I have three other students in my class, so I have all the time I want to practice speaking and ask questions. The school has rolling admissions, so I could jump in today without waiting for the beginning of a semester. The tuition is based on the number of weeks of class you sign up for. The more weeks one commits to the cheaper the rate per week is. (We've actually paid for eight weeks, but I'll take some time off after the six straight weeks in order to get the next round of childcare lined up). But the school seems to be flexible and willing to work with me to make sure I can have my kids taken care of....and that is invaluable to me.

And after my first day, I'm thrilled. The teachers were fantastic and welcoming and thorough. It's funny because the school isn't technologically advanced at all...I felt like I was in my sixth grade math class again with the overhead projector and dry erase markers everywhere (sorry, Dad, no Smartboard here). They were even using cassette players for the listening exercises. But I don't need to be wowed with fancy gadgets and podcasts for my ipod. I'm too desperate to learn to be picky about small things like that.

I can't convey how excited and ready I am to make the most of the opportunity. I want to speak French...I want to learn...and today my heart feels lighter...because NOW, there seems to be a way to make that happen. Maybe someday I'll be able to get my hair cut, order a pizza, understand the repair man telling about some problem with our roof, follow along during a sermon at church, ask for another size at the department store, sign my kids up for swimming lessons. These are experiences I cannot wait to have. And experiences I'll never again take for granted.

Urban Outfitters

I grew up in suburbia. And Phil did too (although he'll tell you a good story about growing up on a farm and his favorite song is "A Country Boy Can Survive"). So I can say, without a doubt, Toulon, our current city, is much more urban than any place we've ever lived.

Toulon is not one of the largest cities in France. There are 170,000-ish people who live within the 16.5 square miles that make up the city...However, a quick comparison to other cities I know well...Columbus, Ohio, for instance--has four times as many people, but they have thirteen times as many square miles making up the city. Jacksonville, Florida, for instance---also has four times as many people living within the city limits, but they have fifty-fives times as much space within the city limits. All this to say, the city of Toulon isn't very big (we can drive across the city in ten minutes)...but compared to other places it has a much higher population density.

Here are some of the issues that make it feel so much more urban on a daily basis. Every place is crowded. The green space in Toulon is very limited, although there are some good playgrounds. We are surrounded by tons of apartments. In order to go the super market I have to park in a parking garage. In order to go other places in the city, you have to allow extra time to park because in general parking is very limited, and sometimes it seems like our Subaru Outback is the equivalent of a Hummer compared to the Renaults, Citroens, and Fiats on the road. And traffic during the week can be infuriating.

But living the city life has positive aspects to it as well. I've been able to take the bus the morning markets and mall a couple of times. It costs 1.40 Euro each way (kids are free), and for a Wednesday, Lily's day off school, she thinks it is the most exciting adventure ever.

(Here are some pictures from a morning bus ride)

This is the bus stop closest to our house--it's about a quarter mile walk away from us.
I promise I do wear makeup---but on this cloudy day, I didn't particularly feel like it.
Our bus fare ticket
The twelve minute bus ride takes us here... the bustling daily market in Le Mourillon (a "neighborhood" within the city limits of Toulon)
And I couldn't resist this picture--what you can't see from this angle of the picture is the age of the woman. I would guess in her seventies---wearing a fur, leopard print coat, and short skirt to the market on a rainy day. And who wouldn't wear heels to grocery shop??? This is why some days I don't wear makeup--I can't even begin to keep up with this!

It's taken me two months to be able to say this (I had to get over my initial disappointment of not finding a house in Hyères) but I'm coming to realize that we're experiencing the best of "a city life" and the suburbia we're used to. Our house, with a yard, is on a very quiet, dead-end street with mostly single family homes on it--the suburbia we love. And yet we can easily walk to bus stops, Lily's school, the beach, and a favorite pizza kitchen and a bakery - tastes of an urban life we are beginning to appreciate.