So, brief summary of what this blog is about: I’m Julia (I’m sure anyone who would possibly be reading this is aware of that though). My first year out of college (shout out to Carleton), I’m trying to prove that my major in French was not in vain, and so I’m living and working in France as an English language assistant. I’m living in a small town in north eastern France called St. Dié, hence the title of the blog (mini French lesson: if a letter is capitalized, it doesn’t need an accent, so I’m not even cheating).
Before arriving here though, I spent a week traveling with Johanna (Pictured). 
Our first stop was Reykjavik Iceland, which…was….AWESOME. We saw
geysers, we ate fermented shark (who’s eating who now jaws?!) and submerged ourselves in the eerily blue, geothermally-heated waters of the blue lagoon (Which consequently turned our hair into straw—Johanna’s main talking point for the rest of the trip). But we do feel ten years younger as advertised.
Then it was on to Paris France which is soo beautiful but frustratingly not up-to-date with modern conveniences like elevators/escalators. Lugging a year’s worth of clothes, etc up and down in the metro was not fun to say the least, but I did get some help from some friendly Parisians and eventually got everything stowed safely in the hotel room, resolved to take a taxi the next time.
Paris was Paris. I feel like I don’t have much original to say. We laughed, we cried…
Finally…I got to St. Dié, and was greeted by two smiling faces: Edith who is in charge of languages in the general area, and Bertrand who is in charge of the elementary schools in St. Dié. I’d had some email contact with Edith, so I knew she was friendly, but both Edith and Bertrand exceeded expectations in kindness and helpfulness. They took me to the high school and introduced me to the person I’ll be paying each month and then we all went to see the room where I’ll be living. It’s pretty much a dorm owned by the high school that’s across the street from the school itself. Nothing special, but it was pretty much what I expected. Edith, however, was not having any of it and she kept on telling me that if I didn’t like it I could find somewhere else. I told her I was used to dorm rooms and was fine, but she and Bertrand basically took it upon themselves to make the room more livable. So apparently Bertrand is bringing me an armchair and Edith is bringing me drapes and new sheets. Maybe more, who knows. (Later in the day, she took me food shopping and insisted on buying me chocolate and flowers for the room. I told her she was being too nice but she insisted that it was normal. I still don’t really think it’s normal) She and Bertrand also insisted on taking me to the bank and helped me set up an account which I was happy about because the lady at the bank spoke fast.
In general, the whole they-speak-a-different-language-here thing is going pretty well. I think. I can pretty much understand everything addressed directly at me, but when I try to follow a conversation I’m not a part of, I just pick up bits and pieces. Everyone here though seems to be very impressed. Edith called my French impeccable (clearly not true) and others have said that I’m better than other assistants in the past. I’m pretty sure it’s only because I don’t have an atrocious American accent. (Accents do make a tremendous difference. The biggest problem I’ve had so far was understanding French people trying to speak English. My landlord-of-sorts started talking about Beacon Hill when he learned I was from Boston but it took me waaay too long—he had to start describing John Kerry—to figure out what he was saying. Baconal. Something like that)
Edith and Bertrand keep talking about past assistants. Mostly positively and others kind of slyly insulting. It’s making me really nervous. I feel like I have a lot to live up.
Oh god, I just realized how long this post is. Yikes.
MORE PHOTOS!!!!!
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