So I arrived on Wednesday, not that long after my previous post, to the ferry port in Ouistreham, just outside of Caen, and was met by the famous (well, to me, anyway) M. Frédéric Blanchard. Only a slightly awkward moment occured when neither of us really knew whether the other was the right person or not, but it soon became apparent that the girl with all the stuff was indeed Zhemmar Eddené, as he put it so very well, and so he took my overly large suitcase, forced it into his very small Fiat, and we were on our way.
The first surprise was that, actually, M. Blanchard was not at all like I expected the principal of a school to be. He was actually quite nice. Which is always a bonus, I suppose. We were met at the foyer by a man of similar gentillesse, who informed me that his name was Arnaud, and that he was an animateur. I'm still not entirely sure what that is, but he was helpful, so that's really all that matters. After a lot (and I mean A LOT) paperwork and moments of misunderstanding, I was eventually shown to my room. Now, for 432 euros a month, I was expecting a veritable palace. Instead, I got a bunk bed, a table, a sink with a hob attached, a fridge, and the tiniest bathroom I have ever seen. It is possible, in my "studio flat", to have a shower and brush your teeth at the same time, and not have to move to spit in the sink.
Anyway, I'm whining. It really isn't that bad. Now there are some things on my walls, and food in the fridge, it is (almost) like home.
Since then, it has been a whirlwind of tram rides (I've only fallen over once so far, and the lady was very nice about the fact that I was suddenly sitting on her feet), meeting the staff at school (who all seem to want me in their classes, even the ones who teach Geography...), and meeting other assistants, who are all from different countries, speak different languages, and have different levels of French. It's interesting.
In all honesty, I thought it was going to be so much harder. Everyone has been wonderful, from the secretary who chased me down the corridor because I was going the wrong way, to the head of English who offered to give me bedding, to the lady at the bank who told me my French was good and gave me her number "in case you need anything, anything at all", to the other assistants who have already had me in stitches. I feel truly welcome, even if I occasionally feel like the token foreigner.
Tomorrow brings the start of my teaching post at Collège Henri Brunet, with the baptism of fire that is a class of 4eme (13-14 yo) at 10am. Here's hoping they don't smell my nerves, and that I don't make a fool of myself. I'm quite excited, really :-D
Oh, and one more thing - down the road there is a flyer attached to a lamp post reading "ni facho, ni macho!" It made me smile.
Bisous!
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