Correction.

I wrote 'Bordeaux never ceases to disappoint' last time where obviously what I meant was 'never ceases to deliver.' 


I told you I was forgetting my mother tongue. 


Thanks Dad. 

And another thing.

You remember how there are now 300 children in my life.

Well that's 300 birthdays.

Which means 300 renditions of Happy Birthday.

And 300 slices of 300 cakes. 

I was going to complain about how I had to eat 2 pieces of cake at school today when I'd already eaten a huge lunch, but then I reevaluated my life and realised that its great.

Ceci n'est pas juste un fromage.

Well today I inadvertently agreed to accompanying one of my CP (Year 2) teachers on an overnight trip up the Mèdoc -  its a place where they grow wine, not a euphemism - with her boyfriend without realising until afterwards that that is what I'd agreed to. This time it worked out pretty well since I really want to go exploring around there and who better to do it with than some vrai français but I really do need to stop just agreeing emphatically when people tell me things I don't understand. 

I also finally confessed to being in possession of my primary school photographs, complete with uniform and fringe. I haven't actually brought them in yet, but I don't think I can back out now. 

Funniest conversation of the day came from another 'Very Hungry Catepillar' session with a CE2 (Year 4). When we got to Saturday - I'm sure you remember, the caterpillar goes mental and starts eating cakes - I pointed to the slice of cheese and asked them what it was. Shrugs and mutters. 'Ok', I said, 'its cheese'. Everyone repeated back 'shees'. 'What does that mean in French, children?' More shrugs and mutters. 'Seriously?' I asked. 'Nobody can tell me what the French word for this is?' I wondered whether my French was wrong. Finally a brave girl stuck up her hand. '*Urrrr... est-ce qu'il le comté?' she suggested. 'Non!!' a boy immediately shot her down. 'Regardes les trous! C'est pas comté!!' 'Mais la couleur!' '...Gruyère?' someone added to the table. Oh lord, I thought. What have I started? 'Fromage! I wanted fromage! You're 8!'. 'Ohhh le fromage!.. Juste le fromage?' In the end we decided it was probably an Emmental with a strangely coloured rind. Note to self - when drawing cheese for French children you cannot just get away with a yellow slab.  

Speaking of cheese, my second favourite conversation was one which I know another primary school assistant has already had - a CE1 (Year 3) class asked me to sit and tell them about primary school in England. I explained that at their age I used to start at 9 and finish at 3.15. Cries of '*Non!' C'est pas juste!!' 'Vite! Il faut grèver!' (Ok so I made that last one up but we all know they were thinking it) were abound until I explained that they probably did the same amount of work hours, its just that the English children don't insist on taking 2 hours out of the day to eat their sandwiches. We all agreed that really you could get a lot more done with the day if you just got rid of all the cheese courses.

Oh, les français. 

P.S. Thank you all so much for actually reading this.. I can't get over how many people do and it means a lot to me!! 

P.P.S *Is is compté? 'No! Look at the holes! That's not a compté!' But what about the colour!!'

** No! Its not fair!! Quick! We must strike!

Update.

The last posts I did on here were during the half term holiday, and although it was nice to have some time to go home and to do a little exploring, what I've realised this week is that I do really enjoy going to work. I can deal with the early starts and the traffic and the feeling that not one single muscle will ever work again when I get home at night, because I know that I have such a good time at school. It makes sense really. I had a great time at primary school the first time around, and this time is pretty similar, with the added bonus that I get to eat my lunch in the staffroom where there are less projectiles. At work is where my French is really put to the test as all of my interactions with my fellow teachers are in French and I can feel it becoming easier and easier each week. There are still obstacles, but everyone is really friendly and even if I make mistakes they don't make me feel as stupid as I probably look. Teaching is also becoming a little easier now that I have just about figured out what it is that is required of me, and the teachers for their part have realised what I require of them. Its still a little shaky but we're getting there. Last week I fully capitalised on 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar' and used it in almost every class. With a little imagination you can use the same page of a book to ask a 6 year old to point out the different colours, a 7 year old to use a sentence to say what colour something it is, an 8 year old to remember the names of all the different fruits and a 9 year old to say whether or not they like to eat said fruit. The teachers are helping me to make those connections as well, so I'm not alone! I'm constantly impressed by my CM2s, or Year 6s to you, and maybe I'm just remembering wrong but I'm sure the things I'm doing with them we didn't do until our GCSEs. For example, last week I had to get them to think up all the words they associated with living in a town and living in a countryside, and then talk about the differences between the two. I'm pretty sure I remember doing that in a GSCE French lesson! I'm fairly certain in Year 6 French all we did was say 'mmm c'est bon, ça!' whilst pointing at flash cards of foods. Anyone who was also in 6GB will be pleased to hear that I have in fact used the phrase c'est bon, ça! - I missed out the 'mmm' but I think that was optional - whilst tasting a cèpe (a wild mushroom and a regional delicacy - they can fetch up to 50€/kg) my housemate Valere found in the countryside and it seemed to go down well. So thanks, Mrs Barnett. 

Unfortunately, my new found love of the working life happens to have coincided with the realisation that for the people of France going to work is something which they approach much in the same way as a 14 year old girl approaches the idea of a school swimming lesson. Its not so much that they don't like doing it, but it is somewhat inconvenient, and there are so many possible ways to get out of it if you only stop and think about it that it would seem defeatist to ever actually do it. Thinking up excuses for jour feriés or bank holidays is something of a national pastime and so its only on the off-chance that one of my three work days falls on a date with absolutely no significance to the past 1000 years of French history that I get to actually go.
On the other hand, this means that I do get lots of time to explore what Bordeaux has to offer, and it never fails to disappoint. With Valere's help the other assistants and I have discovered an authentic French bar where karaoke no longer means drunken renditions of 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' but rather all-out accordion playing, skinny jeans, striped t-shirt and trilby hat wearing performances of 'Aux Champs Elysees!' and androgynous women singing jazz. We have managed a little French conversation there, and are working up the courage to take over the mic - I'll keep you posted! Yesterday we went to the beach again and this time scaled the largest sand dune in Europe. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, but it was enormous! Sensibly, we ran all the way to the bottom of it 'to see the sea', before realising that what goes down must, of course, go up, and having to trek all the way back to the top. Still, it was a beautiful view and I wore a sundress on the beach in November so I can't really complain. Also checked off the list of 'experiences' has been accidentally stumbling across a bar full of drag queens, one of whom I actually had a great conversation with in the queue for the ladies toilet (which also answered that question) eating more than my fair share of pastries and realising that Bordeaux feels a lot bigger when the trams have stopped running - thanks again, jour ferié. People watching continues to be an enjoyable experience, although like Ella I have noticed that people really do like to shout out the phrases they were taught in primary school when they overhear you talking on the tram. When I get home I'm going to have to start lurking on the tube listening out for attractive French tourists and then shouting 'OU EST LA GARE?' 'QUEL EST LE DATE DE TON ANNIVERSAIRE??' 'EST-CE QUE JE PEUX AVOIR UNE BAGUETTE???' because apparently that's how to pull. 
Anyway, I'm sorry that I'm so bad at keeping in touch - to all my family: I'm alive, I'm well, I'm keeping safe! 
Lots of love and à la prochaine fois. 

The Post Blog.

Ok so I've shamelessly stolen this from Ella's Facebook, but this made me laugh far more than it should because its SO TRUE.

In other news, by contrary, all goes well in France, she myself pleases a lot. I hope that all goes well with you, I have haste for with you to speak. At all the hour, Emily.

Stolen Property.

I stole this from Emily who came with me to play on the beach with the other 10 year olds. We frolicked in the sea until she got engulfed by a wave. Then we saw a jellyfish and though we tried to dissuade it by serenading it with Adele's 'I won't let you close enough to hurt meeeee' I don't think he understood. Good day though!

A Personal Opinion.

Some people may say that France's best contribution to the world has been the spirit of revolt. Some may say it has been the great thoughts of the Enlightenment, or perhaps the dresses designed by Coco Chanel. Others would argue its been a well ripened camembert, a love of pastry, or the deep rooted desire to wear hats indoors. 


My personal opinion is that whilst all of the above have been fine French successes, the thing they should be the most proud of is a particularly jolly snack which has got me through many a breakfast, lunch and dinner in this country. Where else can your breakfast wink at you before you eat it? And don't say Japan.


So here it is, lets all sing the song and rejoice in the power of the BN.