A Very Long Day...

This is direct from my journal following my very long no good horrible, terrible very long day (Ok, so it wasn't that bad at all...but it was certainly interesting)
le 12 Novembre
Well, I had another day of orientation in Poitiers today. What a waste of time and money. At least I'm being reimbursed. The earliest bus out of Bourcefranc was at 6:20 am. But I had no money for the fare, so I rode my bike at 6 in the morning to get cash from the ATM. That was actually pretty exhilirating, being awake before the rest of the world, listening to the birds...even if it was dark and cold. I got on the bus, which arrived late. I was pretty positive that the bus was going to be so late that I would miss my train in Surgeres...actually, that was what I was secretly praying for...I really didn't want to go to Poitiers this morning. Magically, our bus driver made up lost time...not really sure how as I obsessively checked the schedule in my hands at every stop so I could note with satisfaction how late we were going to be. Anyways, we made it on time...much to my chagrin. I already had an excuse planned out and everything. From there I boarded the train to Poitiers only to discover that my ipod was dead. That, also, magically runs out of battery...especially when I don't listen to it with the intent of saving the battery. Go figure. Orientation started at 9 and my train arrived at 9:15, the earliest I could get to Poitiers without spending the night like last time. So, I climbed the stairs of doom into the city once more and literally flew across the city, arriving at the CRDP in a record 15 minutes. I arrived to hear Benoit explaining the differences between the grade levels in college (french middle school...not university). As if we hadn't all figured that out already in our first month of teaching. Basically, useless. I did manage to meet Amelia again, the one I had lunch with in La Rochelle. Ended up sitting next to a boy from Wyoming during lunch only to find out he was also practictioner of living history. So we talked history over lunch, which morphed into politics, which is where my attention span ran off a cliff and plunged to a dramatic death.

After lunch was the only interesting part for me. We split into groups and one of the Canadians promptly named us Team Awesome. I was pretty ok with the title. He also had a true canadian accent, where he pronounced "sorry" just like Gilbert Blythe in Anne of Green Gables ("I'm soory Anne"...I love it!), which quickly raised him in my esteem. We shared activities with one another that we had done with our classes and we had to pick one to then share with the entire group. I shared mafia. Yes...I've been playing Mafia with my students. I know that's not true teaching, but they love it! Canadian guy seemed to really like the idea of playing mafia as well. Canadian guy shared his experience of trying to get his students to write skits. I was laughing pretty hard. Even though his French sucks, he can do a dead-on impression of a French person trying to speak English. For example, they were supposed to write skits involving apologies. Here is one such example that he gave:
student1: "you kill my cat."
student2: "I kill your cat?"
1: "you KILL my cat!"
2: "I kill your cat?"
1: "YOU KILL MY CAT!!"
2: I'm sorry.
1: Go to your room!
2: I'm sorry!
1: Go to your room!
I love French people. After all the presentations, Canadian guy gave us all high fives and told us we had "won". I didn't realize it was a competition, but works for me. Come to think of it, he said he was from Halifax, which is close to Prince Edward Island...and Avonlea! Which is why he sounds like Gilbert!

Anyhoo, I cut out early to return home so that I could catch the last bus out of Surgeres, but first I stopped at Monoprix to buy some peanut M&Ms...they don't sell the regular ones very often in France...just the peanut ones. I got on the train and as I didn't have a specific seat, I was allowed to sit in any open space. Well, the seat I chose smelled rank, and when I realized that I was sitting in someone else's seat and had to move, I was only too glad to do so. Turns out the cause of the odor was on of those vile little yappy dogs that belong to older ladies. The owner probably bought her dog a ticket, because it was chilling on the seat, no cage or anything. I'm pretty sure that's not allowed. So, i sat on the other end of the car and what do you know? We are lucky enough to have our car sniffed by a drug sniffing golden retriever while in transit. The drug busters were patrolling all of the cars and the luggage racks. I kept thinking that the dog would smell the sandwich in my bag and then they would throw me in prison and I'd never see my family again. You might think I'm melodramatic, but it happened to Edmond Dantes...it could happen to anyone.

So, after an excruciatingly long day, complete with over 6 hours of public transportation and another 2 hours of waiting for said transportation to arrive, I finally made it home. One bonus was that we had a glorious sunset...the first day in weeks that I've been able to enjoy the sky swept free of clouds. And it was a beautiful full moon as well. The moon is very comforting, sitting up there in the sky, especially when it is full. It's nice to think that the moon is the same no matter where you go in the world. Anyways, I arrived home with just enough time to change into my bball clothes and catch a ride with sebastien to marennes for practice. I was an extremely long day. I was pooped after practice, but of course French people sit around drinking red wine and eating pate after bball practice. I had some pate, but I just sat there hoping they would notice how tired I was and take me home. Which they finally did. And then I slept and knew no more.

I've been having my students listen to the song "Sadie Hawkins Dance" by Relient K. They have to fill in the lyrics that I've removed. It's very satisfying to hear a room full of french high schoolers singing "Sadie Hawkins Dance, In my khaki pants, there's nothing better...oh oh oh!" Everytime I hear that song I think of Duane Arthur Simpfenderfer Jr. and the way he sings it. Duane, wherever you are, know that I am thinking of you...about 20 times a day...every time I play Sadie Hawkins Dance.