Homeward Bound

I'm going home for Christmas on Sunday! And I'm ecstatic! It makes me want to use ridiculous amounts of exclamation points!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


I can't wait to see my friends and family.  I can hardly believe I've been gone for 3 months.


Other things I am excited about at home (in no specific order):

• Hugs
• Cuddling
• Having other people to talk with in my house
• More than three rooms to walk between
• My straightener 
• Skim milk
• A proper sized pillow
• Double oven (Two ovens! and they're both way bigger than my laptop!)
• Counter space
• A well stocked pantry, including multiple kinds of cereal and peanut butter!
• American style bread
• Bagels
• Wheat Thins
• Tacos
• Bacon
• Pancakes
• A full size fridge
• Speaking the same language as people in stores and banks and on the street
• Access to a car
• Snow for Christmas
• My dog and my cat
• The rest of my clothes!
• Prices in dollars
• A washer and dryer (What luxury!)

It's No Use Crying...

{Someday, I'm going to post one of these on a Friday again...promise. Or eventually, I'll work my way through the week and back to Friday again.}

To continue our tour through Fun French Facts*... If you look to your left, you will see:

The Milk Aisle

You'll notice the lack of refrigeration.

That's right. It's not refrigerated. In France, almost all the milk is UHT (Ultra-High Temperature) Processed. It doesn't need to be refrigerated until it's opened.  It's magic milk, created through science that I don't fully understand, but which involves heating the milk way above boiling for a few seconds.

Then it can live on the shelf for 6 to 9 months. I know what you're thinking because it's the same thing I thought at first: eww. Most people in the United States are used to connecting milk with cold. But with all the microbes killed, it's perfectly safe.

But this processing method hasn't caught on in the States, probably because most people there share this presumption about milk.  Some people in France say it tastes just the same as pasteurized milk, and it is very similar, but I'm ridiculously picky about my milk and how "thick" it tastes.

Things I have used my UHT milk for: tea, cereal, cooking.
Times it made me gag: When I tried to make chocolate milk.
(However, it was also not skim milk, which might have played some part in the gagging.)

So I shop for my milk in the tiny refrigerated milk section:

But this means I miss out on the fun of buying milk in boxes.

Think how much easier this must be to transport. Also, you can buy five or six boxes at once, keep them in the pantry and never worry about running out of milk after the stores close at 7pm.

What do you think? Would you ever drink this milk? Or at least try it?

*Credit goes to my good friend, B, for the non-Friday alliterative title.

Fun French...Saturday?

Just wanted to share this with you. These jeans will make you "booty-licious." Hahaha...ha. 

So awkward.

P.S. Sorry, it isn't Friday. I forgot this week! Love you all.

Edit: This says: "You'll eat better"...It's part of Diesel jeans' "Be Stupid" campaign, which is a lot ridiculous. 

Some Scenes from a Thanksgiving in France

{Source}

The Pilgrims didn't come to France.

So there's no Thanksgiving here. 

Unless you happen to be an American ex-pat. With a craving for pumpkin pie.
My Thanksgiving in France was a little different, but wonderful.


I worked on Thursday, spending the day telling French children that Thanksgiving is a day for family, food and thinking about all the good things that have happened in the past year. 

I'm thankful that I have a job that I enjoy, 
with students I love.

Thursday night (or rather, very early Friday morning) I Skype-ed with my extended family at my grandparents' house. Best moment? My grandpa's surprised face when my cousin put the computer in his lap. "Can she hear me? Well, isn't that the darndest thing." This is a man who doesn't even use the telephone. I can't say it enough: Skype=Magic.

I'm thankful, SO thankful, for my wonderful family. 

Their support and love are so important to me.

I'm also thankful for the technology that lets me stay 

in touch with  family and friends.

Friday, I celebrated with most of the other Americans I know and a British friend, who we introduced to Thanksgiving. Poor girl. We might have put her in a food coma. We all made so much food. It was delicious, and we piled it all on our plates. No French-style courses for us today!

I'm thankful for my friends: the old, 
whom I miss like crazy, and the new.

{Yum. Yum. Yum.}

The one thing I had to have for my Thanksgiving was pumpkin pie. But there is no canned pumpkin in France, and most of you know that I'm not much of a chef. I managed, however, to make my mom's wonderful pie crust by myself for the first time, to buy a pumpkin and to roast it up. 

I'm thankful for pumpkin pie and comfort food. 

And learning to cook.

{Hey, what's this on my shoulder?    Ahh, it's so big!
Boom-boxes are so last Thanksgiving. Pumpkins are my accessory choice }

{I think it knows what's coming. }

And it actually turned into a pie!

{Kirsty had her first pumpkin pie!}

The next day, I had my very own "Black Saturday" at IKEA with Kirsty and Brad. IKEA had almost all the crowds and none of the sales of a Black Friday. But I didn't have to get up at 3 in the morning. And I now have a cutting board!

I'm thankful that there are countries where 

the words "Black Friday" have no meaning.

I'm also thankful for the Swedish.

These are just some of the things I'm currently thankful for. What about you? Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving!

My Triumph lasted till the Drums

{Emily Dickinson: 1212}

{Source}

It was such a great day. An excellent day. I got to really teach today. Really.

Not just help another teacher, not just take a group of students and play a game someone else planned, not just stand in the corner and provide proper pronunciation when asked. Because this is what my "teaching" has been for the most part, so far. It's been good, but far from real teaching. I've been using the time to get a feel for the classrooms here, for the way things are run, and for how much English my twelve classes know.

But now, I'm feeling ready to teach. And today, I got a chance to share a Thanksgiving lesson with six classes. Some went better than others. I had problems with time management, with explaining what stuffing is in French and with games that were a little too difficult.

But some of it went splendidly, and all of it felt fabulous. I'm not sure how to explain the surge of energy and joy I get when I'm in front of a class. It makes me think this is surely what I'm supposed to do with my life. Now to see if the feeling lasts or if it's just a new-experience-high.  I hope it's here to stay.

~

Then, after I was finished with my classes, I went to the school library to plan my lessons for next week and wait for my ride. As I was talking to the librarian, she corrected the pronunciation and gender of my use of the word "color." It was not le, it was la, and I was pronouncing the vowels incorrectly. Then she kindly explained (I think) that the word I had been using was an impolite one. A swear word. I didn't ask for specifics.

To review: Today was great, but I was quite possibly swearing at my classes all day. And that is kind of how life goes.

Dieu Merci C'est Vendredi...

{Thank God It's Friday}

And it's:

Today Fun French Friday is celebrating it's first anniversary (because I missed last week...Sorry).  You know what the first anniversary is, right? Paper.

Paper in France is lined...BOTH WAYS!  {You might call this graph paper, but, for me, that recalls high school math...*shudder*}

This is my cahier, or notebook:

The french students have one for each subject. They are full of paper like this:

I'm still trying to figure out how to write on it...

The French all have impeccable penmanship. It's gorgeous. Sometimes slightly unreadable because, to my American eyes, their fours look like sixes and their capital T's look like C's. But lovely. It makes my chicken scratch look even more, well, scratchy.  I'm hoping the extra lines on the paper are the magical secret, cherishing foolish hopes that by the time I'm done in France I'll have loopy, lovely handwriting too. Along with gorgeous hair, timeless style, and a French pout.

I'll keep you updated.

{We now interrupt the regularly scheduled programming for an important announcement.}

Gee Erin...You're Terrific!

And I'm sending you some love and a big hug today. You are a roommate extraordinaire, fabulous cousin, great wife, a person whose opinion I want in a Target dressing room, a talented artist, an excellent companion for Sunday afternoon naps with Project Runway or Friday all night parties (or weekday all nighters studying) and so much more.

I know you've got a big test today...but I also know you are going to do great!

If, however, you need some encouragement, I advise channeling Doris. {This is actually good advice for anyone facing a big test, or stressful situation...or just for everyday. Doris is fabulous.}

Source

On such a stress filled day, you might want to just stay in bed.

Source

You may feel a little ill with so much attention focused on you,

Source

but you have exciting plans ahead of you:

Source

Source

Dress up and kick that test in the rump.

Source

Although, I'd actually recommend something more like this:

Test Day by e.cordes featuring drop earrings

Comfortable, cute jersey dress; sweater and scarf (warm and stylish); comfortable ballet flats; tights to keep you warm in the Chicago wind; a professional bag for all your important test papers (and snacks); and, of course, a cute pair of underwear.

But whatever you wear, you'll be fabulous.

Love you!

This Week, in Review

Things have been a little quiet around here for a few days.  I've been away from my dear Mac and unable to post.

Update commencing now: I worked on Tuesday, which went really well. I got to assist in a few classes, then run some groups all by myself. My schedule is more organized now. C'est excellent.
However, I also worked with one teacher who couldn't understand my accent at all. Our conversations went like this:
Me: "I live in Elbeuf."
Teacher: "You what?"
Me: "I...live...in...Elbeuf."
Teacher: Confused look
Me: "In Elbeuf. My apartment is in Elbeuf."
Teacher: "Oh you live in Elbeuf."

Sigh. Every time I think I'm making great leaps in my speaking ability, something like this happens.

In other news, I also got to bake this week.  It's something I rarely did in the States, except for special occasions. However, right now various factors (small oven, lack of necessary supplies) make baking difficult . This, of course, makes me want to bake more.

This week, Thursday was un jour férié for Armistice Day. This meant no school, so I was free to attend a youth conference in Paris with my church.  It also meant no buses, which was going to make it hard to get to Rouen Thursday morning. So I spent the night with Jean, a young American missionary from my church. We had made plans for me to stay over Thursday night so we could do some scrapbooking, so she kindly let me extend my stay.

It was excellent. I really enjoyed spending time with her, plus she fed me delicious food and showed me the only fabric store in Rouen. She's been here over two years, so she has a fully stocked kitchen. Vanilla, molasses, spatulas, a kitchen timer, and more; it was a beautiful thing.  We made sugar cookies and molasses crinkles. Yum! 

The youth conference in Paris was interesting. A little difficult (because it was on the subject of Evolution and Creation, which usually involves science words that I don't understand in English, much less in French) but interesting. 

I also got to have dinner Friday at my pastor's house, and Saturday night some friends made Tarte Flambee and had a little dinner party. Then Sunday after church les Americaines were invited to one of the college student's apartment for lunch. We had a great time: pizza, chicken, potatoes, rice, fish, ice cream, Uno complete with head-smacking, and people laughing (kindly, I think) at my French. 

It was a good week-end, but I'm glad to be back at my apartment. Time to relax and wash all the dishes I left in my sink.

I miss you all!

Cause There Is Nothing In This World We Can't Fix With Some Scissors and Glue...

Some things I'm loving right now:

This song:


Tights weather. I also I really wish I had brought some shorts to France...

{Source}

Tea. Tea. Tea.

{Source}

My new purse. It's the perfect size and it has five pockets

This series of Paris vs NYC illustrations by graphic designer Vahram Muratyan.

Fall Leaves, especially on the hills around my village... and on the sidewalk under my feet.

What are you loving?

À la Foire!

{Or in Search of Fried Foie Gras on a Stick}


I found no Fried Foie Gras, or Escargots on a stick.

But there were beignets (donuts), 

{Filled with salted caramel butter...I overdosed on the Nutella last week.}

churros (with Nutella, of course),

{Thanks for modeling the churros, Kirsty!}

Taffy? Marshmallows? (we didn't try this one, and we weren't quite sure),

{This carnie knew I was snapping a pic, so he put on his happy face}

and, finally something on a stick, Pommes d'Amour.

(Note: Doesn't "Apples of Love" sound so much better than "Candy Apples?")

{I promise, not all my pictures in France will be of food. Just most of them.}

And yes, the Fair, which is one of the biggest in France, also had rides and games:

And hamster balls:

I might just have to go back and try those.

Fun French Fridays

Welcome to my new blog feature: Fun French Fridays.  Every Friday*, I'm going to give you a small (and completely out of context) peek at life in France, by focusing on the minutia of my existence**, the things I'd never think to mention during a phone call.

First, France has fancy toilet paper. Mine is pink.

Also available: scented or heart and flower patterns (or boring white, but who wants that?). And it isn't just the super-expensive, luxe "papier toilette." This pink stuff? The cheapest available in my supermarket.

I just had a great idea: who wants to join me in February for some appropriately-colored Valentine's Day TP-ing? (Although, I'm not sure they TP in France. So far, I've seen egging and some paintball vandalism, but no toilet paper.)




Secondly, France doesn't have window screens***. But France does have shutters.

Almost all the windows I've seen here have "les volets." I like them because they make my ground floor apartment feel very secure, they are good for my heating bill and they keep all the sunlight out, which is great for sleeping in. I don't like them because I have to open my windows twice a day to open and close the shutters and they keep all the sunlight out, which is a problem when I don't have time to sleep in.

*Friday chosen because: My name is Elizabeth, and I'm addicted to alliteration. {All together now: "Hi, Elizabeth."}

**Warning: these are details of my life in France in particular. I'm not saying all these details are true for all of France, all the time.

***See Warning above. For example, some people probably really do have window screens; I have yet to meet these people.

Back to School

My vacation is over. It was relaxing, but now I'm ready to get back to school. My days need a little purpose, a little work. (Although, if anyone is interested in funding a year or two of my life in a foreign country just writing, sightseeing, photographing, eating and crafting...I wouldn't say no.)

The most exciting part of my vacation was a day in Paris. It was marvelously, deliciously sunny...the kind that made me want to sing about sunbeams turning to lemon drops.

We found ourselves on the Champs-Élysées.

We oogled a few windows. In French, this is called “faire du lèche-vitrines,” or “Window Licking.” This is something I'm much more likely to actually do at a patisserie. I dare you to look at this and not salivate a little.

{flaky, sugary, custardy deliciousness} 

We also made our way to the Eiffel Tower and up to Montmarte to see Sacré Coeur.

Other vacation highlights included two visits to a French version of Goodwill, spending time with friends, receiving my first paycheck and my debit card, and going on photo explorations of Elbeuf. Watch for those photos soon.

But now it's back to school. That is actually why I came to France.

That and the bread...oh the bread...

Where was I?

Ah yes. School.

I'm assisting in three French schools--Monod and Camus (which are actually one building but different schools) and Jules Verne.

I'm incredibly excited. And unsure.

I'm finally figuring out what my actual role will be in my classes. In some, it seems like I will just be a talking head, serving as a live example of good pronunciation for whatever lesson is being taught. But in others I'm going to get to plan lessons.

In most cases, I seem to be somewhat superfluous. Most of the teachers know English well enough to teach it, and I sometimes feel like I'm just getting in their way; I hope this feeling will subside as my schedule gets organized.

Either way, I'm exited about working with the primary students. They're about the same as 1st through 5th graders in the United States, and they seem great. I'm somewhat of a novelty right now, so they all want to play soccer and marbles with me (that's right, French kids play marbles) and try to speak English.

However, most of them just know, "What is your name?" "Vat iz yur nam?" Very cute.

There were some other great moments when I introduced myself to the classes:

Everyone seemed to know about Las Vegas, even the first graders.

A second grader asked if I knew Marilyn Monroe.

Other good questions:

"Is everyone in the United States rich? Everyone has big houses and big cars, yes?"

"Do lots of people live in the United States?"

Zetus lupetus!

Credit

I've been watching childhood movies on YouTube this weekend, and I've discovered a new role model for my life: Zenon Carr. 


I want to incorporate so many parts of her life into mine:


1. When she wants something or knows she's right, she goes for it. Win contest to dance with hott boy band- Check; Kiss the boy from Everwood- Check; Save the space station-Check. No indecision for this girl. Maybe it's something to do with living with less gravity for most of her life...


2. Check out those clothes. My born-in-the-80's self fully appreciates the color scheme. 


3.  She's very loyal to her best friend. 


4. Her space station? It has skype-like technology (And this was back when cell-phones were exciting.)


5. She has the coolest catch phrase EVER: "Zetus lupetus!"

Do you have friends in France?

You know....FRIEEENDS. FRIEENDS.

Yes. Yes I do.

And we went out a few weekends ago in search of French fun and games and ended up at a French pub where we had cider, because it's the drink of Normandy.


Our cider came in a Girafe... "What's a Girafe?" you ask...Imagine something from science class:

Photo taken with my phone...no judging!

And the waiter carried it with one hand.


Another weekend, we visited an Irish pub in Rouen, with live music. However, if you are thinking we heard cool French music, you are wrong.


But this the main singer did have an impressive accent (or lack-of-an-accent?) as she shared songs like "Hotel California" and "Hit the Road, Jack":

Also we went to Paris for the day....sigh.  Just saying those words makes me very, very happy.

More on this trip later.

Just to whet your appetite...

P.S. For my Twin:
 It's pure snow! Do you have any idea what the street value of this mountain is?
It has raisins in it. You like raisins.  
Gee, I'm real sorry your mom blew up, Ricky.
Two DOLLARS! I want my two dollars.


P.P.S. If you've never seen Better Off Dead, add it to your movie list or your Netflix queue or your Target shopping basket.  It's set in the 80's and it's fabulously ridiculous!

Cleaning out the fridge

I'm updating you on my adventures in the first month of living in France...click here to see the first batch of leftovers.

October 9  I might as well be in America...

In which: I discover that the cornfields of France look a lot like the cornfields of Indiana, make a disappointing visit to the other side of the Atlantic ocean, shop at the French version of IKEA, and continue to aid in the destruction of French cuisine.

It's true: a cornfield is a cornfield is a cornfield.  No matter that the cows in the nearby fields are called "les vaches" and the car whose window you're looking out is a tiny Peugot.  

It's still corn. 

I saw a lot of it today while Alain, Sylviane and I drove a few hours to buy a shelf off the French version of Craigslist and to get their GPS fixed(at a French mall…fyi, pretty much the same as an American mall, just different stores) .

We headed towards the coast near Dieppe. I was very excited about getting a cheap shelf for under my sink and about putting my feet in the English Channel and taking some fun pictures to share with all of you.

That didn't go so well.

The problem is, I can communicate in French, but not well. So little things, like asking if there is an IKEA near to the mall, turn into my friends thinking I really want to go to IKEA. Like really. So they hurriedly drove past the beach…stopping just long enough for me to take this:

Without even getting out of the car.  French-napped again.  

But I'll be going back to the coast.  There were beautiful sailboats.

But then I did get to go to Alinéa (the French IKEA…they have so many stores that are really similar to IKEA, it's crazy) and buy a new floor lamp and some new curtains.  

Then I was French-napped again.   [French-napping: (verb) when you're traveling with French people and you don't really understand where you are going, but you don't know a polite way to say, "Where are you taking me? I would like to go back to my apartment and explore more of Elbeuf."] 

My friends here think, "Oh Elizabeth is American. She must like American food."  

And I do.  But I'm in France.

However the only KFC for hours around is close to Alinéa and Alain really wanted to go.  So another visit to a little bit of America…

But the French KFC doesn't even have mashed potatoes…or BISCUITS!

I'm sad for the French.