Well my first day back at school was interesting. Last semester I was given the wrong address to my class, three times. Yes, three times. This time when I enrolled, there was a question mark in the address area of my schedule. Things were looking grim. An hour before my class I went to the office to get the correct location. It was 59 rue Saint Didier, room 103. Perfect.
I went there and saw people waiting outside of room 102, but not my room. I went in and pulled out my spiral, pencil, pen, eraser, water bottle, and reading book. After ten minutes of waiting, no one showed up. I was becoming pretty irritated and was beginning to prepare my speech to the administrators in the main office. Would I demand a refund of my tuition? How would they react? Just then, a student walked in. I wasn't sure where he was from or if he spoke English. After another ten minutes I asked if he spoke English. He responded with "A little bit". I told him that we were probably given the wrong address. However, there was a cassette player and folder on the teacher's desk. It was for our class, so we were clueless. Another ten minutes and I packed my things up and left. Once I reach the door, my teacher from last term walked in. She looked confused to only see two of us. Once she was adjusted, she began the lesson. That's when another 7 people walked in. They were all given the wrong address. One was even told to buy the wrong book. The teacher said that since it's the first day, things are a little chaotic. Is that an excuse? Does that mean it's acceptable for a school to give the wrong addresses and information to it's students?
In class we talked about things in the kitchen, along with la, le, de. du, d', and l'...which I won't explain. We had to tell her what we liked to eat for breakfast and lunch, then the foods we hated and loved. Well my partner, the guy from earlier said that he liked to have sausage on his bread and like meat for all meals. We all thought it was kind of strange, but let him be. Then she asked what foods we hated. He said, "Je deteste les desserts et quelque chose avec sucre." Yes, he hates desserts and anything with sugar. Not too strange, I understand, maybe he's diabetic, but even diabetics love sugar. I just couldn't make sense of this. After that, we had to tell her what foods we loved. His response, "J'adore les andouillettes!" There was enthusiasm in his voice. I looked at the teachers face and it was a look of disgust, absolute disgust. I quickly flip to see what it was in my dictionary. Pig entrails. He loves hot, sizzling, pig entrails. Voila, my partner in French class for the Winter term.
I did well in class considering that two hours of my day is spent in the kitchen. I felt pretty confident. I went to Starbucks to complete my homework and study ahead a bit, as well as review. I've become friends with my camera phone since it's a bit easier to carry than my mega-huge monster cam. Now you can see how the receipt has a toilette code on it, as well as my fun illustrated French book and study notes. Every one say "Yay!" This is true journalism.
After I went home and relaxed a bit, it was time to get the kid from school. We usually take the metro a few stops to the Eiffel Tower where Zac has his lesson. However, the station is closed, so we just there from his school. It's a little over a mile, but it was a nice day. I got him changed and into his little, tiny swim undies and cap, then I went upstairs to study. Ten minutes later a man came to kick me out and say I had to go downstairs where it was loud and cold. I was doing no harm upstairs. I studied a bit and admired my shoes some, then back to studying.
Once he was out of the shower, I got him dressed (group effort). Then we walked to the bus stop, which is in the middle of Champ de Mars. We hopped on quickly only to realize the bus wasn't leaving for about ten minutes. In that time, I styled Zac's hair, wrestled with him (I won, of course), and practiced my French while he practiced his English. This woman got on the bus with us and then got off at the next stop, literally from the left corner of the Eiffel Tower to the right corner. I noticed it but didn't stay anything. Then Zac piped up and said, "Connie, did you see her? That is ridicule. She spend 1,50 euros to go 30 (fuhty) meters!" He's such a smart kid.The view from the bus window.
Mondays are chaotic, but they are fun days with this little guy. Wednesday we plan to have a fun day. I will pick him up at noon, then take him to see The Bee Movie. I might dress him in black and yellow for the occasion.
2 comments:
yes, ma'am. the french are notoriously disorganized when it comes to school. I went a whole half a term without actually being enrolled at the school I attended over there. c'est pas grave to them, though. they don't care. D'ude. D'id you notice that you said you 'collected' Zac from school? You're sooooo francaise.
"Collect" is proper!
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