Update.

First of all, I can't believe its been a whole week since I last wrote one of these. Whereas the first week that I was here seemed to last for years, this one has gone past in a flash. Work is coming along ok. If anything, lesson two turned out to be harder than lesson one, because with 'what's your name?' ''how old are you?' and 'where do you live?' out of the way I've actually had to do some genuine teaching malarky. The first lesson of this week - and I really do feel like my life is moving along in a collection of 'life lessons' (often related to my second greatest pastime, 'awkward moments') - was that before you enter a primary school you really do have to leave any inhibitions or insecurities at the door. One common demand has been 'OK, now sing,' to which mumbling '..err I don't really d..' is received with a standard French shrug. In terms of student participation, the clear winner this week was 'heads, shoulders, knees and toes', although I do fear that the children considered it some sort of tribal chant rather than English. I felt particularly pleased with myself when the first class I taught it to really took it on board and sung along with gusto, but when I congratulated them on their linguistic prowess they all looked blank. 'What do you mean?' one boy asked. 'You just sang in English so see, you can speak some English now,' I replied, only to be met with raucous laughter. 'That wasn't English!' he said, 'this is English: Hello.' So I fear the embarrassing song singing may not have been quite as successful as I'd hoped. Another key part of teaching is that you have to constantly think on your feet. The expression 'never flog a dead horse' was written somewhere in the British Council's advice leaflet, and I think its the most important by far. There is nothing worse than sitting in front of a class full of blank expressions as you try to explain something that is never going to catch on. I think the feeling must be similar to that of a standup comedian who's punchline has just been met with silence, but the most important thing is not to panic. Just pretend it never happened and change tack immediately. As well as the apparently obligatory singing, dancing and acting, and the constant possibility of deathly silence, obstacles have included 'That One Kid'. If you've ever been in a classroom, either as a teacher or a pupil, you'll know this particular individual. He (and I'm sorry to say that he is, without fail, a boy) either sits right at the front or right at the back. His desk is normally separated from the others a little, and he usually has a whole load of extra things on top of it like his whole pencil case emptied out, a few twigs or pebbles from the playground, and other contraband that the teacher has long ago given up confiscating. I don't know why the the British Council didn't dedicate a page of their booklet to him, maybe its not politically correct, I don't know, but by the third classroom of the week I knew to keep an eye out. My favourite 'That One' was called Maxim and ran laps around the classroom for almost an entire lesson without anyone batting an eyelid. There was also Guillaume who, whether out of boredom or political protest in the form of subversion of the expected, sat on the floor holding his chair above his head. Another had apparently confused English and Japanese culture and so stood up and bowed to me every time I asked him a question or in fact made eye contact. Ideal. There is no way to stop them, so you just have to nod and smile and then carry on with reciting the colours or something. 

Obstacles aside, I really have enjoyed most of my lessons this week. The kids are attentive and so so long as you have a plan B (and a plan C) for when your first plan doesn't really go so well, they are really keen to learn. I have also enjoyed hanging out in the staffroom, where I've found that for the first time I can genuinely (and with more than a little pride) use the line 'no, no, don't worry, we'll speak in French,' as my French is better than most of the teacher's English. Conversation tends to be around our children (I smile and laugh appropriately), our in-laws (more smiling and a little gasping), our 'That One Kid's (laughing and/or gasping) and the questionable parenting skills of some of the parents of kids at the school. On the whole, I try to eat my lunch and not do anything to embarrass myself, but since it takes them 2 whole hours to eat this is obviously quite an ask. A less than fabulous moment occurred when having sat for about half an hour smiling and gasping I reached for something and managed to catapult spaghetti bolognese onto my own face. Not ideal. I thought the following damage control had gone fairly smoothly until the teacher sat next to me turned, saw me picking spaghetti off my neck and screamed. Perfect. Other than that though, things have gone ok.

Supermarket shopping is another experience, but there is a definite skill to it. At first, it seemed as though food in France was much more expensive than in England, but the main thing I've learnt is that this is only true if you try to stubbornly stick to your English shopping list. The ingredients for a stir fry will inevitably cost more than 10€, but paté is less than 1€. Shopping like a French person is hard, but I'm slowly picking it up. 

There is no shortage of evening entertainment, and so far we've sampled many (but still only the tip of the iceberg) of Bordeaux's bars and restaurants, the fun fair that is currently set up in the centre of town, and even tried our hand at a pub quiz (didn't go that well). Now that the summer weather is back we may even get to go back to the beach or out to a vineyard this weekend. I definitely feel like I've earned a reward after the first week of actual work I've ever done!

Pictures to come, I promise!!