In which the spirit of Thanksgiving can pierce even the most cynical of shells.

This week it became clear that whoever is the prominent god here in Bordeaux decided there was no need for autumn this year. On Wednesday 23rd November summer was still in full swing, and then on Thursday winter fell. I'm serious, the temperature dropped by about 15 degrees overnight. It had been a little disconcerting to find myself walking down the main street in Bordeaux watching Christmas decorations being hung whilst wearing a sundress and sunglasses, but, thankfully for the Bordeaux city council, this day-after-tomorrow-style climate change coincided nicely with the switching on of their Christmas lights. So, the mist has fallen, the gloves and scarves have come out of the suitcase they went into in September, and Bordeaux has started to sparkle. One Bordelaise man, who may or may not have overindulged in the vin rouge department, was so excited to see my ugg boots out of their summer hibernation that he felt the need to lean over and stroke them at the tram stop. I think its definitely a sign that I've truly acclimatised to my life here that this event didn't even really concern me. D'accord. Along with this new weather has come potential for staffroom small talk. I don't know who it was that decided that its a specifically British trait to talk about the weather, but let me tell you, the French love that stuff. I would say pretty much every teacher I spoke to on Thursday opened with 'Hey, you're from England, I bet you're loving this weather! Is this what its like in England? Is this normal for you?' When I reply with 'Yeah, I think at home this has pretty much been going on since September,' it genuinely blows their minds. 

So yes, lessons for this week - the French love weather talk, and they also love when I tell them about the differences between our countries. 

Its a little awkward when they ask me about the differences between our education systems, another hot lunchtime topic, since my only resource for information on how a state primary school works is my own memory, and since I was 8 when I left I can't help but think that my knowledge is perhaps not entirely accurate. I was, though, able to tell one teacher with confidence that his method of rolling up a magazine and whacking children on the head when they leap up from their chair instead of putting their hands up to answer a question would probably not go down that well. This caused outrage in the staffroom. 'What? But how do they get them to sit back down?' he asked. If any primary school teachers are reading this, he's still waiting for an answer. On a more serious note, I have realised that here in France primary schools are shockingly illequipped for dealing with the 'problem children' in their classrooms. There's at least one child in every class who clearly falls somewhere along the autistic spectrum, but rather than have classroom assistants and special needs teachers to help them they are just left to be headaches for their teachers and a distraction for their peers. I can't say I'm an expert on the system in England but I don't think this is the case at home. Its something which the teachers here complain about a lot and I'm sure needs changing at some point when we don't have a recession to climb out of. Maybe I'll write to Sarkosy and let him know.

Next on the agenda, I don't know whether its the cold weather, but all of a sudden its feeling very Christmassy around here. There is a big Christmas market which has opened up, and there are lights everywhere. Some of them are really high-tech as well. For example, there are lights on all of the trees lining one of the big central avenues which flash in a way which makes them look like snowflakes falling through the branches. Given the french tendency towards drink-driving - apparently it was next to 'smoking all the time', 'closing all our businesses on Sundays' and 'stroking strangers shoes' on the page which fell out of the book called 'Welcome to the 21st Century: Things We Don't Do Anymore' when it was handed over to the french nation - I don't really think these lights are a great idea, but only time will tell how many pileups they will cause. Also adding to the Christmassy vibes have been a symphony concert that I went to with some other assistants - my dad was almost proud until I confidently told him on the phone that I'd been to a Tchaikovsky concert where they played a concerto called Pyotr Ilyich (which is his first name, I read the programme wrong) - and two Thanksgiving dinners. Not having Thanksgiving at home, this is the part where I wrote something mean about not having massacred a whole race who'd just helped us through the winter in their country but then I deleted it when I remembered Britain's shady track record for humanitarianism, I wasn't sure what to expect, but it turns out Thanksgiving is basically just an excuse to eat Christmas dinner when its not Christmas, a cause that I am happy to get behind. Both my Thanksgivings were feasts, so thank you to everyone who contributed to this extra roll that has arrived around my waist. I was genuinely surprised by how many great cooks we have here in Bordeaux! The group of assistants here is fantastic; we are such a melting pot of nationalities and languages and interests but we all have a great time together and its making me feel much better about living in a foreign country! Anyone who spoke to me before I left will know I spent the whole of September panicking that I'd never meet anyone and spend the whole 7 months just wishing I could come home, so I am more thankful than I could possibly even say that we all found each other. You see, that's what you do at Thanksgiving, after you've eaten too much pie and watched cheesy films and played football (ok so we didn't do that but we talked about it), you have to sit and think about what you're really thankful for. Once I got past my default layer of cynicism, I think it was around the time that two incredible assistants whipped out their guitars and we started singing 'Don't Look Back in Anger' (oh, yes, we went there), I realised that that's actually a really nice thing to celebrate. So, here goes, brace yourselves, maybe take a shot or something because its going to get American up in hurr. I think it helps if you read this part in an American accent because its super cheesy y'all. I am thankful for all of the assistants here who have made my life in France better than I thought it was going to be. I'm thankful for the family who have let me into their home and who put up with my interesting grammar on a daily basis. I'm thankful for all the children who actually pay attention when I teach them English, and the ones who don't but at least spend their time making me presents instead. I'm thankful that I have my wonderful family waiting for me at home. I'm thankful for the crazy citizens of Bordeaux who can transform even the most mundane daily routines into bizarre and hilarious events. Thank you, merci, gracias, شكرا , спасибо and go raibh maith agat. I think that covers everyone! 

Onwards and upwards. A tout.