Not all that much to report here. Things have returned back to normal after the break. The kids are still (generally) very cute. One day last week different kids kept on running up to me at recess and handing me flowers/weeds that they’d picked. I had a fairly good-sized bouquet by the time the bell rang. However, I’m not sure if they’re getting any more accustomed to my teaching methods. The other day we were learning emotions and I suggested we play charades. Silly me, I thought it would be obvious that they should charade the emotions we’d just spent 40 minutes going over, but the first girl to go started to mime going fishing.
I had the task of teaching everyday life in the US this past week. After a few days of panic of not knowing what to do, I managed to find enough to talk about. This lesson also gave me a chance to make a plug for iced coffee, as I explained that Americans not only weren’t scared of ice but they add it to all kinds of crazy things like coffee. I was about to tell them that adding ice to coffee was the best idea since sliced bread, but then realized that argument wouldn’t really work here in the land of baguettes. The kids were flabbergasted to learn that there were not eight bakeries on every street in America and that we bought bread loaded with preservatives (I was extra careful not to make the mistake of saying “préservatifs” which happens to mean condoms) that lasted for days.
Another funny and somewhat embarrassing moment from this week was when I was standing by a group of students as they were coming in from recess and I was “rangé-ed” (basically, pushed into a neat line) by the teacher thinking I was a student. When he realized who exactly he was pushing he blushed and apologized and with a resigned sigh I admitted it was not an uncommon mistake to make.
This past weekend was no ordinary weekend for St. Dié. As is was “vélo-datienne” (a play on the word for what people from St. Die are called—déodatienne). It came in two parts. Friday was a legitimate bike race for the serious of cyclists. A little mini Tour de France right here in Saint Dié. And having been to the actually Tour de France, I can assure you it really wasn’t all that different aside from the number of spectators (tour de France= millions. Saint Dié: a handful of people standing on the corner). I was reading on a bench along part of the designated path and every now and then a car with a siren would drive past followed by a cluster of bikers. So, not really all that thrilling.
Saturday, however, was a whole other story. This was the day for the less serious of bikers to participate in the 24-hour relay bike race. But not just normal bikes—wacky decked-out bike constructions-basically anything that was powered by pedaling. There were groups from local businesses and associations, but also just groups of townies who got really into building crazy bike contraptions.
Here are some photos I snapped.
Yes, that is a man covered in soda cans. And my favorite:
It seemed like the whole town was out, be it participating or spectating. All the teams had tents set up around the track and were grilling on their little barbeques while they weren’t cycling. And for the non-riders there was the usual clump of churro and waffle stands that appear whenever anything happens in town. In the park later that night, as people got bored watching the same bikes pass by every five minutes, they moseyed over to the park where there was a cirque de soleil–esque performance going on complete with scantily clad men and women holding each other up by their tongues (not actually) and impressive acrobatics with weird gladiator plotlines.
As my time in this fine town draws to a close, I’ve been starting to count down the time I have left in normal ways (ex: only 17 more days of class!) and less normal ways (ex: the number of packs of yogurt I will most likely buy before leaving). I have mixed feelings about the whole thing really. The fact that the internet will most likely be down for the rest of my time here is one thing making my approaching departure a little easier to handle.
No comments:
Post a Comment