Bienvenue 2010!

Firstly, BONNE ANNEE! Meilleurs voeux and all that, “happy, healthy and wealthy” etc :)

As I write this, people are looking at me funnily, as I have decided to eat lunch on the Café de la Paix’s street terrace because it’s so beautiful today! The locals don’t seem to appreciate that my laptop and I are simply having lunch and taking in the winter air, not deliberately getting in their way. I don’t know if it’s me, but everyone seems to be rushing today. Place de Verdun is overrun with students and people milling, yet the sky is so clear and peaceful compared to the hustle and bustle of this gorgeous, small city. I’m wearing 3 tops, a big coat, a scarf and gloves, and the waiter has just called me Mademoiselle Gelée, and une courageuse jeune fille! Then they blamed it on the fact that I’m English. Welcome back to France, huh?

In all honesty, my mood has taken a giant U-turn today. I had a particularly hard time saying goodbye to my boyfriend and England on Saturday and may have accidentally started hysterically crying at the neighbours’ house when trying to have a civilised dinner. Whoops... But after a day of wallowing in my own self-pity, I’ve been back to school this morning that reminded me why I’m here. I’d demonised my job when I was in England, saying that I didn’t even want to teach so why should I bother doing this placement, blah blah, and for me, anything in comparison to what I have at home and in Bath is going to seem a bit merde at times – but then I woke up this morning in my nice cosy room, looked out into a slightly frosty garden, saw my ‘parents’ padding around upstairs in their pyjamas all sleepy-eyed and making coffee (always leaving some for me), heard a train go past, put on my clothes and felt reassured by my surroundings. Waking up on Sunday wasn’t as good; I woke up in a bad mood and went to bed in one, despite having spoken to Andy and Jack and my Mum on Skype!

I think, for me, it all boils down to the feared-yet-never-really-apparent Culture Shock© that all the Year Abroad talks waffled on about – at the time, we all said “don’t be stupid, most of us are only going to Europe!”... and I hadn’t experienced it until now. Of course in Barcelona and at the beginning of this placement there were several things I had to adapt to, but coming back here on Saturday after 2 weeks of utter brilliance was a real shock to my heart and my brain. So, here I am, admitting to suffering from a Culture Shock© SEVEN MONTHS into my Year Abroad. What??? The shock of coming back to a solely French-speaking environment, the shock of not being around my loved ones, the shock of not being able to contact people so easily... Shock seems like a strong word, but for me, I think it was quite appropriate considering my reaction. ‘Frustration’ would also easily replace shock in this context. Every other time I’ve had to go home then come back to wherever, I’ve been has been quite subdued, with the constant thought of “well, I’ll be back soon, no point in getting stressed about it”, and now I confess to feeling the total opposite. I know it was melodramatic, but it was only temporary and I’m over it – but for me, the somewhat “that’ll never happen to me, it doesn’t exist” term of Culture Shock© was very real post-Christmas!!!

Being back at school today made me realise how lucky I am to have my job – as so very eloquently put by a very good friend of mine, also an assistant – “At the end of the day, we’re just assistants, and the success or failure of the kids is not our problem, it’s the teachers". You’re the teacher, they’re the brats.” I try to make it easy for both myself and the kids, and this term I’m going to try out some stuff that will make them responsive rather than be sulky teenagers and resent some overly chirpy English girl wittering on at them for 55 minutes. When I walk through the school and feel like a celebrity because all the kids shout “Hello Rebecca!” down the corridor at me, it makes me feel quite positive about the whole experience. Am I really changing the lives of some children? Judging by the stupidly large amount of pupils who fail their Brevet, their end of collège GCSE-equivalent, my teaching will do nothing except bore them to death for an hour of their lives... but hopefully some pupils will one day reminisce about this school year and say to each other “Do you remember that awesome English assistant we had?” Well, I can hope, can’t I? :)