Cockroaches, Hippies, and Eight-Year-Olds, Oh My!

I have now been in my studio for a full week. It's a cute little room, and I have made it feel like home.

My studio

I would be completely at ease if it weren't for the cockroaches. My fellow English assistant, Amy, has them as well. When we told our landlord Monsieur Gauben, he didn't believe us at first (he's never had them here at Les Cottages; he thought we were being crazy English girls), so we stayed up until 1am hunting them one night. We caught an adult and a nymph (baby cockroach), and he then apologized profusely and hooked us up with some serious cockroach spray. That same evening, we made friends with Ajit, an English-speaking engineering PhD candidate from India. We asked him if he had cockroaches. His response: "Of course!" Our new suspicion: as Les Cottages houses mostly engineering (and predominantly male) students between the ages of 17 and 24 attending the university here in Blois, chances are their potentially poor cleaning habits and general apathy to all things that crawl have incited a secret cockroach infestation that only a couple of English girls and an American would care enough about to bring to Monsieur Gauben's attention. My room's not too badly infested (I see about one a day, usually dead thanks to the spray), and I'm being super careful about leaving food out to discourage them from hanging out in my room. Also, I have sprayed the merdre (excuse my French) out of my room, risking self-poisoning.

Kitchenette, hopefully de-cockroached

Besides cockroach hunting, I have spent the past week in training with Nancy, our coordinator here in Blois. I absolutely adore Nancy. She is an American who moved to France during her junior year of college to study abroad...and never came back. A theater and French major, she enrolled in Paris's famed miming academy (yes, she's a mime) and began a twenty-year career in theater and miming. She eventually married a French man and had three daughters, all very French and very bilingual. Eventually, she gave up her miming career and pursued a degree in elementary education and proceeded to become one of the best English teachers in France. Now she coordinates other English teachers. Imagine a 1970s American hippie and combine that image with a sophisticated French woman--this is Nancy. Her signature: she only has one ear pierced thanks to a failed attempt at self-piercing back in the day, so she frequently sports a large dangly earring from this ear (my favorite being a triangular piece of a record). She is quirky and can be a little scatterbrained sometimes as the French school system has her running all over the region doing EVERYTHING. She is also super nice. She took Harriet, Amy, and I shopping for the apartment essentials as well as holding an interactive training week for us (most assistants just get thrown in without training). I am so lucky to have her!

This weekend, a new friend and fellow assistant Suzie (also British--American accents are beginning to sound strange...) visited from a nearby town. We showed her the sights and took her to the Saturday open market, a huge weekly event hosting 100-200 vendors selling everything from apples to purses to freshly-caught oysters to mattresses. I successfully bought 5 euros worth of produce fresh from the farm. Next Saturday, I plan to attempt a cheese purchase.

Loire River

Today, I went for a run along the Loire. I think it's one of my most favorite things I've done so far here in Blois. The river is wide and beautiful. Migratory birds were floating on its surface, and fishermen in waders were testing their luck along the bank. The leaves are starting to change color, so everything looks bright and crisp. I found a river-side park where a French couple was teaching their young daughter how to ride a real bike for the first time. So cute, and yet another reminder of those many things that cross the cultural divide.

Tomorrow I become Ms. Beaton, English teacher. I have already introduced myself to most of my classes (part of our training with Nancy) using a formula that went like this: "Hi everyone! My name is Erin. I come from the United States. I'm 22 years old. I'm going to come here and teach you English, and it's going to be really fun!" Most kids just stared at me blankly, a couple laughed, but when Nancy asked them what they understood, they were enthusiastic and actually able to understand quite a bit. My favorite moment was when an eight-year-old jumped out of his chair to announce I was 99 years old. I am excited to work with them, but I'm also a little nervous. This week's supposed to be just observation, but Nancy said some teachers may expect me to be prepared to take over. So we'll see how things turn out. In life and especially in France, I've found it's best to just go with the flow.