I am writing this from my sea foam green desk in my new (or rather very old) apartment in downtown Blois. Thanks to my awesome landlord who lugged my now 55 lb suitcase up a spiral staircase for me, it took all of two minutes to move into my new digs.
There are two other assistantes de langue in my building, both from England. Amy hails from Liverpool and Harriet is from a London suburb. We all moved in today and spent a good two hours going from one room to another comparing our apartments and offering decorating suggestions. We also went out for pizza (yum!). They don't speak as much French as I do, so we speak English together (though this proves difficult at times as they have quite heavy accents and have different slang terms for things like elevators (lifts) and mail (the post); we plan on teaching each other our dialects so we can all be "trilingual"). I am encouraging them to speak more French, though. It doesn't just enter your brain through osmosis; you have to use it everyday.
I've spent a good part of the evening (note that it is past 1am in Blois) making my small room feel more like home. My walls are now covered with my friends' and family's smiling faces, treasured cards, poems, maps, post cards, and brochures. My trusty college dorm comforter is on my bed, and my clothes are neatly put away in my armoir (yes, I have an armoir). Edwige, my temporary host mom for the past week and avid gardener, took me shopping yesterday for plants to make my room more cozy, so now I also have a small garden with small jars of lovely growing things. I have colorful flowers, of course, but my personal favorites are my little pepper plant about the size of my knuckle (peppers are my favorite vegetable) and a North African plant that closes its leaves when you touch them. My kitchenette is pretty, well, nasty. I will be bleaching it soon. And I have to go in search of the sauce pans and frying pans I was promised or give up cooked food for the next eight months. The bathroom is tiny but not unbearable. My greatest joy is the large, stereotypically-French window right over my bed that opens onto the courtyard. What a great place to read, write, and people-watch!
I have a big day tomorrow as October 1st is officially my first day as an assistante de langue. We are all going to a big orientation in Orléans to take care of important paper work and to begin learning how to teach our students English. All I feel like doing is nesting and doing some necessary shopping for food and essentials like toilet paper and a reading lamp, but alas, this must wait. Despite my desire to do otherwise, I am excited for what tomorrow will bring. After all, I love being a student, meeting new people, and getting cool handouts, so tomorrow should be a good day.
More info and pictures to come as soon as I'm settled.
If you care to write to me in Blois, here is the address. Note that I am no longer in Apartment 6 as planned but have moved across the courtyard to Apartment 17.
Erin BEATON
SCI LEXGAU
Résidence les Cottages
22, rue porte côté, Boîte 17
41000 Blois
FRANCE
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Bonjour de France!
A short post as I'm on my host family's ancient French computer (and equally French key board) and internet activity is slow going: I made it to Blois and am staying with a wonderful temporary host family while I wait for my studio to open up. Everyone has been super nice, even the Parisians (!). I was up for 31 hours and then slept for 16 and am thus well on my way to beating jet lag. French communication successful so far.
I will tour Blois tomorrow. Sites to see/find include the chateau, the library, the Loire, the nearest grocery store, the centre-ville (old part of town--like 1100 years old), the pool (maybe I'll get a membership), a few churches, a second-hand bookstore, and cheap restaurants. Also getting a French bank account. Friday I will be in Orléans getting my birth certificate translated as well as touring France's old capitol. Sunday I move to my new home near Blois's centre-ville.
A plus, donc,
Erin
I will tour Blois tomorrow. Sites to see/find include the chateau, the library, the Loire, the nearest grocery store, the centre-ville (old part of town--like 1100 years old), the pool (maybe I'll get a membership), a few churches, a second-hand bookstore, and cheap restaurants. Also getting a French bank account. Friday I will be in Orléans getting my birth certificate translated as well as touring France's old capitol. Sunday I move to my new home near Blois's centre-ville.
A plus, donc,
Erin
Monday, September 24, 2012
The Leap
The big day has arrived. I have about nine hours left on US soil before I board an Air France mega jet for my nine-hour flight to Paris. I have eliminated a third of my clothes and streamlined the bulk of all three of my bags (suitcase, backpack, purse). I have packed and repacked about five times. Final count: I leave for France with five short-sleeve tops, five long-sleeve, two jeans, two slacks, a skirt, two dresses, five pairs of shoes, three sweater-like layers, and three bottles of contact solution (it's three times the US price in France). I also am taking most of the linens I will need there-- including my comforter-- all vacuum-sealed down to a third of their original size, to avoid having to shell out money for these essentials when I get there. I have no idea how much my suitcase weighs, but I'm praying for under 50.
I've had a lovely time with friends and family here in the cities, though my upcoming departure seems to have warped the time and sent me hurtling for this day faster than I was prepared for. I will be in Blois in less than 24 hours. It will be a long journey, but I'm comforted knowing that I've got my contact and coordinator Nancy Dutour and my wonderful landlord Henri Gauben waiting to welcome me in Blois. Monsieur Gauben is even meeting me at the train station to take me to meet my temporary host family for my first week in Blois. So far, I think I'm the only American assistant in Blois, but there will be two other English assistants living in my building, both from the UK. I'm hoping they'll become new friends.
So, I'm off to see and do new things and meet new people; to discover new favorite places, both humble and monumental; to speak and learn and teach; to touch lives and to be touched in return; to open a new chapter in my book; to grow and understand; to expand and deepen; to become. I gather my courage and my strength (I'll need it to haul my luggage around Paris), take a deep breath, and leap. I'll let you know when I land and what I find when I get there.
Until then, adieu. I'll miss you all!
I've had a lovely time with friends and family here in the cities, though my upcoming departure seems to have warped the time and sent me hurtling for this day faster than I was prepared for. I will be in Blois in less than 24 hours. It will be a long journey, but I'm comforted knowing that I've got my contact and coordinator Nancy Dutour and my wonderful landlord Henri Gauben waiting to welcome me in Blois. Monsieur Gauben is even meeting me at the train station to take me to meet my temporary host family for my first week in Blois. So far, I think I'm the only American assistant in Blois, but there will be two other English assistants living in my building, both from the UK. I'm hoping they'll become new friends.
So, I'm off to see and do new things and meet new people; to discover new favorite places, both humble and monumental; to speak and learn and teach; to touch lives and to be touched in return; to open a new chapter in my book; to grow and understand; to expand and deepen; to become. I gather my courage and my strength (I'll need it to haul my luggage around Paris), take a deep breath, and leap. I'll let you know when I land and what I find when I get there.
Until then, adieu. I'll miss you all!
Thursday, September 20, 2012
The Breath Before the Plunge, or Le problème de la peur
Bonjour à tous! (Hello, everyone!)
I am currently sitting in my room, surrounded by clothing, shoes, children's books, flashcards, towels, pictures, my twin comforter from my college dorm days, European converters, maps, toiletries--I am drowning in France preparation. As expected, my deadline has snuck up on me. As many "to-do" lists as I've made, here I am, 32 hours from the time that I will begin my four-day sojourn to France, wondering where the time went and scrambling to get everything done in time.
Things checked off my "To-Do" list(s):
-All major clothing items, including shoes, present and accounted for, almost all washed, and ready to be vacuum-sealed
-Rainy day funds secure so I don't have to worry about running out of money the first month
-Super nice French landlord willing to work with me on my down-payment for my studio (went down from the first three months to only one month until I get paid at the end of October)--in other words, I can now afford to feed myself
-All living arrangements and important appointments (like setting up a French bank account) arranged by my contact in Blois, also super nice
-Official French translation of my birth certificate set up (though I'm still smarting from its 100 euro price tag--approx $130)
-SNCF (French transportation system, pronounced as one consonant sound morph: "essensayeff") youth discount card and train ticket from Paris to Blois bought (though not without some battling with the ever-vigilant Wells Fargo and the SNCF website crash fiesta)
-Exploring the magic of Google Maps that allows me to tour Blois before I even get there (check out the link in my previous post; simply move the little yellow man on the left-hand side of the map to a location on the map to walk the street of Blois yourself from the comfort of your favorite over-stuffed arm chair)
-iTunes discovery--I think I was the last person under 30 to get an iTunes account
-Teaching aids found and/or purchased; I've got phonics and vocab flashcards, coloring books, children's books (titles include Dr. Seuss's classic Green Eggs and Ham, the ever-popular If You Give a Moose a Muffin, and a Berenstein Bears fall double feature about Halloween and Thanksgiving, two holidays not celebrated in France), postcards, and a collection of photos of me doing American-y things
Things still lingering on my list(s):
-PACKING (as of now, there's still nothing in my suitcase). My pact to pack light may be a fading fantasy--I've doubled the amount of clothes I'm taking (I will be there for eight months and three seasons) and I'm bringing linens, bedding, and pillows so I don't have to spend the money when I get there--thank goodness for vacuum-seal bags!
-Replacing my computer battery that chose this week to die on me (some of you may remember that last time I went to France, my Dell met an untimely end two weeks before my departure--my computers evidently don't play well with European adventures)
-Downloading Christmas music on my new iTunes account to see me through my first holiday season away from my family
-Bidding my family and friends farewell. This hard process began tonight with a wonderful dinner with the Dave Iverson clan (my uncle, aunt, and cousins who live close by) and will continue with a two-day stint in Minneapolis saying goodbye to my family and friends in the cities before I board the plane on Monday.
Most recently checked item: Making this blog post!
On a serious note, I want to address a concern about my safety that many of my family members have raised due to the recent protests in the Middle East.
First and foremost, I want to remind everyone that I will be living in Blois, a small community miles away from Paris that would have a very small chance of being the target of any kind of violence. While there is conflict between the French state and its Arab immigrants, I doubt I will come into much contact with this cultural tension as most immigrants live in major cities where jobs and low-income housing abound. (However, I hope to have some contact with this cultural tension as I find it fascinating and yet another way to broaden my understanding of people and cultures different from my own.) I am also very good at blending in as a French person with my olive skin, dark hair, and purposefully French-looking wardrobe, so it is unlikely that an observer will be able to tell that I'm American. I am smart, vigilant, and careful. I walk with confidence and a straight face, and my dad the Boy Scout has armed me with a military-grade aluminum flashlight that can be used to blind and/or bludgeon an attacker. So yeah, I think I'm good on the safety front.
That being said, safety is a concern whenever you travel, whether that be to a US city or a foreign one. You can never know what will happen or prepare for every situation. I inherited the Iverson worry gene and suffer from anxiety. However, I decided a long time ago that if I allowed my fears control my life, I would never have any adventures or discover new things about myself and the world around me. That's what propelled me to move away for college at St. Olaf, and it's what drives me now to take this next step in my life journey.
When I tell people that I'm moving to France to teach for the year, the typical reaction involves tittering about how cool that is, swiftly followed by a comment like, "Wow, you're so brave." I have never thought of myself as brave, and I don't think what I'm doing is particularly courageous. Frankly, I am pretty nervous and terrified. The last time I flew the nine hours from Minneapolis to Paris, I threw up twice and was so exhausted I couldn't think straight. Getting from the Charles de Gaulle airport to the center of Paris is no picnic, and lugging your entire life (all 50 lbs of it) around in an over-sized suitcase through bustling streets and onto impatient trains is not particularly entertaining. Starting a life away from everything you know and everyone you love probably won't be a blast either. I will endure these things in order to gain something that I think is worthy of the sacrifice. I'm not sure what that something is yet, but I got a taste of it when I studied abroad last year, and I've been yearning to try it again ever since.
Maybe what I'm doing is brave, but the thing is, the more I do it, the less scary it becomes. I know Paris, having spent a month there last January. I've made the trip from the airport to Paris-centre and back a few times. I know how the train system works. I recognize French signs and understand the layout of French cities. And most importantly, I speak French--when I'm on my A-game (or slightly tipsy), a French person can't determine where I'm from or even that I'm a foreigner.
The scariest parts for me are not the France-specific challenges that await me, but rather the adult things that I would be doing in the US anyway if I wasn't going to be in France: getting an apartment, feeding myself, balancing a budget, finding friends in a new place, starting a new job, putting down roots in a community. These are the things that keep me up at night. But they are also the things that I am most excited about doing.
Returning to my original point before my rambling: yes, there is turmoil in the Middle East right now. But that's nothing new--in fact, it's a fact that out dates the United States, France, Europe at-large, several major world religions, and all of the world's greatest empires. The human condition is chaos, uncertainty, fear. And at this point, I feel that life is about accepting that chaos and overcoming that fear. Isn't this how one breaches that mysterious barrier between childhood and adulthood? We are never certain that we can handle something until we've handled it, and the human race being as resilient as it is, there are few situations that we can't handle. Life goes on, and we adapt accordingly. So, I can't control what's going on in the world, or be certain of what my experience in France will be like, but I can control what I do. And I choose to accept the chaos and take a risk. After all, if I waited for the world to be at peace, I would never go--and that's not a sacrifice I'm willing to make.
I am currently sitting in my room, surrounded by clothing, shoes, children's books, flashcards, towels, pictures, my twin comforter from my college dorm days, European converters, maps, toiletries--I am drowning in France preparation. As expected, my deadline has snuck up on me. As many "to-do" lists as I've made, here I am, 32 hours from the time that I will begin my four-day sojourn to France, wondering where the time went and scrambling to get everything done in time.
Things checked off my "To-Do" list(s):
-All major clothing items, including shoes, present and accounted for, almost all washed, and ready to be vacuum-sealed
-Rainy day funds secure so I don't have to worry about running out of money the first month
-Super nice French landlord willing to work with me on my down-payment for my studio (went down from the first three months to only one month until I get paid at the end of October)--in other words, I can now afford to feed myself
-All living arrangements and important appointments (like setting up a French bank account) arranged by my contact in Blois, also super nice
-Official French translation of my birth certificate set up (though I'm still smarting from its 100 euro price tag--approx $130)
-SNCF (French transportation system, pronounced as one consonant sound morph: "essensayeff") youth discount card and train ticket from Paris to Blois bought (though not without some battling with the ever-vigilant Wells Fargo and the SNCF website crash fiesta)
-Exploring the magic of Google Maps that allows me to tour Blois before I even get there (check out the link in my previous post; simply move the little yellow man on the left-hand side of the map to a location on the map to walk the street of Blois yourself from the comfort of your favorite over-stuffed arm chair)
-iTunes discovery--I think I was the last person under 30 to get an iTunes account
-Teaching aids found and/or purchased; I've got phonics and vocab flashcards, coloring books, children's books (titles include Dr. Seuss's classic Green Eggs and Ham, the ever-popular If You Give a Moose a Muffin, and a Berenstein Bears fall double feature about Halloween and Thanksgiving, two holidays not celebrated in France), postcards, and a collection of photos of me doing American-y things
Things still lingering on my list(s):
-PACKING (as of now, there's still nothing in my suitcase). My pact to pack light may be a fading fantasy--I've doubled the amount of clothes I'm taking (I will be there for eight months and three seasons) and I'm bringing linens, bedding, and pillows so I don't have to spend the money when I get there--thank goodness for vacuum-seal bags!
-Replacing my computer battery that chose this week to die on me (some of you may remember that last time I went to France, my Dell met an untimely end two weeks before my departure--my computers evidently don't play well with European adventures)
-Downloading Christmas music on my new iTunes account to see me through my first holiday season away from my family
-Bidding my family and friends farewell. This hard process began tonight with a wonderful dinner with the Dave Iverson clan (my uncle, aunt, and cousins who live close by) and will continue with a two-day stint in Minneapolis saying goodbye to my family and friends in the cities before I board the plane on Monday.
Most recently checked item: Making this blog post!
On a serious note, I want to address a concern about my safety that many of my family members have raised due to the recent protests in the Middle East.
First and foremost, I want to remind everyone that I will be living in Blois, a small community miles away from Paris that would have a very small chance of being the target of any kind of violence. While there is conflict between the French state and its Arab immigrants, I doubt I will come into much contact with this cultural tension as most immigrants live in major cities where jobs and low-income housing abound. (However, I hope to have some contact with this cultural tension as I find it fascinating and yet another way to broaden my understanding of people and cultures different from my own.) I am also very good at blending in as a French person with my olive skin, dark hair, and purposefully French-looking wardrobe, so it is unlikely that an observer will be able to tell that I'm American. I am smart, vigilant, and careful. I walk with confidence and a straight face, and my dad the Boy Scout has armed me with a military-grade aluminum flashlight that can be used to blind and/or bludgeon an attacker. So yeah, I think I'm good on the safety front.
That being said, safety is a concern whenever you travel, whether that be to a US city or a foreign one. You can never know what will happen or prepare for every situation. I inherited the Iverson worry gene and suffer from anxiety. However, I decided a long time ago that if I allowed my fears control my life, I would never have any adventures or discover new things about myself and the world around me. That's what propelled me to move away for college at St. Olaf, and it's what drives me now to take this next step in my life journey.
When I tell people that I'm moving to France to teach for the year, the typical reaction involves tittering about how cool that is, swiftly followed by a comment like, "Wow, you're so brave." I have never thought of myself as brave, and I don't think what I'm doing is particularly courageous. Frankly, I am pretty nervous and terrified. The last time I flew the nine hours from Minneapolis to Paris, I threw up twice and was so exhausted I couldn't think straight. Getting from the Charles de Gaulle airport to the center of Paris is no picnic, and lugging your entire life (all 50 lbs of it) around in an over-sized suitcase through bustling streets and onto impatient trains is not particularly entertaining. Starting a life away from everything you know and everyone you love probably won't be a blast either. I will endure these things in order to gain something that I think is worthy of the sacrifice. I'm not sure what that something is yet, but I got a taste of it when I studied abroad last year, and I've been yearning to try it again ever since.
Maybe what I'm doing is brave, but the thing is, the more I do it, the less scary it becomes. I know Paris, having spent a month there last January. I've made the trip from the airport to Paris-centre and back a few times. I know how the train system works. I recognize French signs and understand the layout of French cities. And most importantly, I speak French--when I'm on my A-game (or slightly tipsy), a French person can't determine where I'm from or even that I'm a foreigner.
The scariest parts for me are not the France-specific challenges that await me, but rather the adult things that I would be doing in the US anyway if I wasn't going to be in France: getting an apartment, feeding myself, balancing a budget, finding friends in a new place, starting a new job, putting down roots in a community. These are the things that keep me up at night. But they are also the things that I am most excited about doing.
Returning to my original point before my rambling: yes, there is turmoil in the Middle East right now. But that's nothing new--in fact, it's a fact that out dates the United States, France, Europe at-large, several major world religions, and all of the world's greatest empires. The human condition is chaos, uncertainty, fear. And at this point, I feel that life is about accepting that chaos and overcoming that fear. Isn't this how one breaches that mysterious barrier between childhood and adulthood? We are never certain that we can handle something until we've handled it, and the human race being as resilient as it is, there are few situations that we can't handle. Life goes on, and we adapt accordingly. So, I can't control what's going on in the world, or be certain of what my experience in France will be like, but I can control what I do. And I choose to accept the chaos and take a risk. After all, if I waited for the world to be at peace, I would never go--and that's not a sacrifice I'm willing to make.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
The Blois Blog: Beginnings
Hello family and friends! Well, I'm off to France again. This time I'll be working as an English language assistant (assistante
de langue) in a French elementary school starting October 1 and ending
April 30. The Blois Blog will keep you updated on my adventures. I will use it as a space to share my experiences, post photos, recipes, and facts, practice my writing, indulge in some cultural and philosophical pondering, and, in general, touch base with you, the people who have empowered me to take this journey.
After an extensive application process and much waiting, I have been selected to teach in Blois (pronounced "Blwah"), a small city (approx. 50,000 residents) on the Loire River, in the heart of France's famed château (castle) country. In fact, my 15m² studio apartment is just a couple of blocks from the Château de Blois, which once hosted France's kings. Blois is about 30 minutes by train from Tours and Orléans, the big cities of the region, and less than two hours from both Paris and my beloved Rennes, where I studied abroad in 2011.
Here is a link to Blois's Wikipedia page, in case you're curious:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blois
And a map of Blois:
https://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=202781485586169892264.0004c987103cccc5a00ed&msa=0&ll=47.587179,1.330998&spn=0.007656,0.021136
My countdown is well under way; I only have 12 days left until I board the plane to Paris on September 24th. I am, of course, excited, but there's no denying that this radical change in scenery is making me extremely nervous. I will be exercising many of my adult "firsts" across the pond--renting an apartment, setting up a grown-up bank account, seeking medical insurance, working in a professional environment, grocery shopping and cooking for myself, not to mention all the extra fun things I get to do as a foreigner to appease the French authorities--all in French and without the immediate support network of my friends and family. I know it will be challenging, but I am prepared for that and am encouraged by the fact that this will not be my first time to France.
As an exercise in new beginnings, I would like to create some goals for myself before I get over there and become overwhelmed and busy (and I'm counting on you guys to keep me honest!). So, here it goes:
1. Approach challenges confidently and calmly; things will work out.
2. Dedicate effort and energy into being a good teacher and encourager for my students. Learn all my students' names (I will have up to 300 total for as little as an hour per week, so this is no small task).
3. Participate in the community. Join a church choir, a yoga class, a dinner group--whatever gets me out of my apartment to meet new people.
4. Speak French as much as possible (a challenge when teaching English and living alone).
5. Become a regular somewhere: coffee shop, bakery, library--perhaps even a bar (!).
6. Explore Blois and know it well; go for a walk everyday.
7. Eat like a French person, and learn to cook like one--on a budget, of course. (I'll post some of my favorite new recipes here.)
8. Take risks; don't miss an opportunity to discover something unfamiliar.
9. Read and write. Profit from free time and alone time for intellectual development and personal reflection.
10. Keep up with this blog--at least one post per week.
Everything looks so simple when reduced to ten checklist items. But this simplicity is oh-so-misleading. I'll let you know how this list is holding up three weeks from now.
Just some final details to wrap up, and then it will be time to start packing. Going for one suitcase and a backpack... Wish me luck!
After an extensive application process and much waiting, I have been selected to teach in Blois (pronounced "Blwah"), a small city (approx. 50,000 residents) on the Loire River, in the heart of France's famed château (castle) country. In fact, my 15m² studio apartment is just a couple of blocks from the Château de Blois, which once hosted France's kings. Blois is about 30 minutes by train from Tours and Orléans, the big cities of the region, and less than two hours from both Paris and my beloved Rennes, where I studied abroad in 2011.
Here is a link to Blois's Wikipedia page, in case you're curious:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blois
And a map of Blois:
https://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=202781485586169892264.0004c987103cccc5a00ed&msa=0&ll=47.587179,1.330998&spn=0.007656,0.021136
My countdown is well under way; I only have 12 days left until I board the plane to Paris on September 24th. I am, of course, excited, but there's no denying that this radical change in scenery is making me extremely nervous. I will be exercising many of my adult "firsts" across the pond--renting an apartment, setting up a grown-up bank account, seeking medical insurance, working in a professional environment, grocery shopping and cooking for myself, not to mention all the extra fun things I get to do as a foreigner to appease the French authorities--all in French and without the immediate support network of my friends and family. I know it will be challenging, but I am prepared for that and am encouraged by the fact that this will not be my first time to France.
As an exercise in new beginnings, I would like to create some goals for myself before I get over there and become overwhelmed and busy (and I'm counting on you guys to keep me honest!). So, here it goes:
1. Approach challenges confidently and calmly; things will work out.
2. Dedicate effort and energy into being a good teacher and encourager for my students. Learn all my students' names (I will have up to 300 total for as little as an hour per week, so this is no small task).
3. Participate in the community. Join a church choir, a yoga class, a dinner group--whatever gets me out of my apartment to meet new people.
4. Speak French as much as possible (a challenge when teaching English and living alone).
5. Become a regular somewhere: coffee shop, bakery, library--perhaps even a bar (!).
6. Explore Blois and know it well; go for a walk everyday.
7. Eat like a French person, and learn to cook like one--on a budget, of course. (I'll post some of my favorite new recipes here.)
8. Take risks; don't miss an opportunity to discover something unfamiliar.
9. Read and write. Profit from free time and alone time for intellectual development and personal reflection.
10. Keep up with this blog--at least one post per week.
Everything looks so simple when reduced to ten checklist items. But this simplicity is oh-so-misleading. I'll let you know how this list is holding up three weeks from now.
Just some final details to wrap up, and then it will be time to start packing. Going for one suitcase and a backpack... Wish me luck!
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