Vacances.

During February, the weather in France isn't quite so cold as it was in January, meaning that your average French woman with the thermoregulation of a desert lizard (the cries of "Ah merde! Ce froid est insupportable!" having echoed loud and clear around both of my schools ever since we returned after Christmas) is able to leave her house without fear of the instant death that I am assured would have befallen her had she attempted the same a few weeks ago. After the bitter turmoil of a three week long winter, the sun has emerged bright as ever, and the only reminder of that dark and difficult time is a good 3 metres of snow, powdery atop the Alps and the Pyrenees. Naturally, and who can argue with them, the people of France long ago decided that going to school during such excellent meteorological conditions, when their time could be better put to use slaloming through the trees and eating tartiflette in wooden cabins decorated with cowbells, would frankly be churlish and, I would imagine, insupportable.  The long and short of it is that we are all on a two week holiday again, and who am I to complain. 

On Wednesday I'm embarking on a trip to Rome, Milan and Prague which I'm sure is going to be fabulous, and in the mean time, I've come home for some rest and relaxation, because these 12-hour weeks are really quite a strain. My mum is almost certainly going to have to check my suitcase when I leave for any kittens I may or may not attempt to kidnap. 

Expanding my options.

I've started watching Grey's Anatomy in French and I think its going to be really helpful if I'm ever in A&E and need to pitch in unexpectedly.
So far I've learnt:
'Il arrive un homme blanc, trente ans, accident des voitures, les côtes cassés et hémorragie interne, touts les résidents venez ici tout de suite!'

'Vite! Amenez-lui a la bloc!' 

'Ah merde! Il fait une hémorragie! Qu'est ce que je dois faire, chef?!'

*'We have a white man, 30 years old, car accident - broken ribs and internal bleeding, coming through. All residents get here right now!'

'Quick! Take him through to theatre!'

'Dammit, he's haemorraging! What do I do, boss?!'

You never know.

La neige en Bordeaux.

Is everybody sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin. 

The last few weeks have been a lot of fun here in Bordeaux. First on the agenda is the fact that the whole of Quinconces, our big open space in the middle of town, has been filled with a circus, which of course we had to visit. We went on a tarif reduit night, which is where you don't get an allocated seat and have to battle the people of Bordeaux for a place, which is why we ended up sitting up in the rafters of a big top. Naturally, I managed to drop my handbag through a hole in the bleacher-like rises, and had to lie flat on the ledge and be lowered down into the tiny gap to get it back. As with so many of the tales here in Bordeaux, not exactly a bon debut. Fortunately, all handbag related faux pas were forgotten as soon as the lights dimmed, the drum roll sounded, and out came four tigers. Because in France it's still legal to have animals in your circus, and if you try hard not to wonder about their living quarters or how much exercise they get or whether they long for the noises of the jungle, they're incredible to watch! There were tigers, horses and dogs, all of whom did some incredible tricks, but I think my personal favourites were the elephants, who managed to climb up onto a tiny stool with more grace than I would be capable of, and then all rest their front feet on top of each other in a circle. I am not ashamed to admit that I regressed approximately 14 years, and sat as open mouthed and wide eyed as the small child in front of me through the whole thing. In typical French fashion, it wouldn't have been a night out without things getting a little bit risqué both in the French meaning - i.e. involving some sort of hazard - and the English meaning - i.e. girls getting naked. So after the interval, once all the jungle creatures were snug in their beds, out came a cage full of motorcyclists which left the whole tent with the thick smell of petrol and burning rubber for the rest of the evening, two very nearly naked male acrobats doing the most homoerotic routine you've ever seen, a pole dancing woman who then got chopped in half by a magician, and two men leaping off a huge revolving tower with their eyes closed, all accompanied by a soundtrack which was a mixture of German heavy metal and gypsy folk music. All very, very bizarre. Still, we all had a great time.
At school things are carrying on in the same old way. To see whether the children really remembered the names of the different body parts we've been playing a game where I give them the detail of 'my friend the alien' and they have to draw him. With the younger children its just a close up of his head - 'He has 3 eyes, he has 4 ears' etc etc - and with the older ones we get more creative - 'he has 2 necks, he has 17 fingers, he has a curly beard' - and its gone really well. Everyone really enjoyed it, and a lot of the kids got really creative with their monsters. There are definitely a few budding Picassos amongst the children of Saint-Jean-D'Illac! The next week we all coloured them in, testing their colour vocab as well as their body parts, and I let them all choose a name for their alien, so long as it was definitely an English name rather than a French one. For some reason they found this absolutely hysterical, and we had lots of Brians, Georges, and Henrys. There were also some Simons, I think because of 'Simon Says', and a couple of Emilys... but I let that slide since I think I was just the only English person they could think of. 
In the ever exciting 'maternelle' (nursery to you) we had a fête de galette de rois which was a party for which the children had baked their own galettes (remember the brioche with the ceramic characters inside) but was basically just an excuse to put 50 three to six year olds in one room, give them all crowns to decorate with glitter and then feed them all a lot of sugar. I got a hand delivered invitation to this event, and all the kids were really excited for me to be there, but I quickly realised my presence was necessary as an extra pair of hands rather than as a VIP guest. I found myself breaking up fights, drying tears, handing out galettes, and even chasing one over enthusiastic four year old through the playground when she decided she was going to make a bid for freedom and escape the madness of the party. When the galettes themselves came out, anyone who had a birthday in January got sung Joyeuse Anniversaire, Happy Birthday and Feliz Cumpleaños, which took a really long time since there were about 6 birthdays!  The girl who later escaped threw an enormous tantrum at the injustice of her birthday having been forgotten, and feeling really bad we sung them all to her and she got to blow out the candles and was wished a happy birthday, but when I then asked her when her birthday had been she replied 'oh, I'm still 4, its not until April.' She'll probably grow up to be a very successful politician.
This weekend was Magen's birthday weekend so on Friday night we had Mexican food complete with margaritas at Kate and Magen's house, which we've named 'the Castle' since it is right beside the Porte Cailhau, which looks like a Disney castle, and their building itself is so old you have to climb 3 flights of stone spiral staircase to get to their apartment! Our Mexican night was rounded off with an arts and crafts session and a game of Salad Bowl, both of which quickly sent it straight to the top of the league tables as a contender for 'best night in Bordeaux'!! Saturday was a continuation of what was christened 'Celebrating Madge Weekend' and we drove to St Emilion for some wine education. Battling the cold was difficult but the town itself is so pretty that it made up for it! Anyone who has me on Facebook will be well aware that a truly obnoxious amount of photographs were taken that day so I'm sure you all already know all about it! On Saturday night we tried to make our own onion soup, complete with cheesy baguette topping, which was a huge success, and then settled in to watch Despicable Me with our newly purchased Saint Emilion wine. Another very successful day!! I was woken up far too early bright and early on Sunday morning to cries of 'Its snowiiiiing!!' and all of a sudden Bordeaux was a winter wonderland and no public transport was running. What else to do except join the Bordelais in frolicking in the snow all morning. Having decided we didn't need to wash before leaving the house since 'no one would see us anyway' we were then photographed trying to sledge down the steps of the 'mirror d'eau' by no fewer than 3 press photographers. So let that be a lesson to you all.. always look good leaving the house, you never know when you're going to get into the regional news. I haven't actually found the pictures online yet, but I'm sure they're out there somewhere. It was nice to finally get to use all the extensive snow vocabulary we learnt in Upper 6th French doing 'La Neige en Deuil' with Mrs Hutson. There's a time and a place for everything. Sadly, I have yet to find use for all the words we learnt to do with the lambing of sheep, but there's time yet.
So there we have it, the last couple of weeks in Bordeaux. Life is ticking along nicely here, I hope that everything is going well for you too. 
Saludos, meilleurs voeux, lots of love.