The New Job

"Hello, my name is Adrian and I am your (new) English professor." 

Today around 8:30 or 9:00 I found out that I got a job that I had been thinking of doing, and that it would start today at 3:00, and that I have training at 12:00 (right when my class ends). Of course I find all of this out while I'm already running half an hour late to my French language course. Me being my normal self, I took all of it with pure happiness while being tortured with time restraints. Class went well, no problems there. Class ends and I run to my training session just so I could arrive 30 minutes late, again no problems there. Everyone was great. Except I started to get a little nervous when it was 1:30 and I had yet to receive my assignment school, which I finally received at 2:00.

Finding the school was a great experience. At first I accidentally went to an American equivalent of a Pre-K school, who kindly told me which I actually needed to go to (of course all while thinking I speak absolutely no French because I'm teaching English). Once I arrived I spoke with the secretary who had no idea that I would be coming, and then I talked with the directorice who also was surprised that I was there but at least knew that someone like me should be. "Hello, my name is Adrian and I am your (new) English professor." 

Today around 8:30 or 9:00 I found out that I got a job that I had been thinking of doing, and that it would start today at 3:00, and that I have training at 12:00 (right when my class ends). Of course I find all of this out while I'm already running half an hour late to my French language course. Me being my normal self, I took all of it with pure happiness while being tortured with time restraints. Class went well, no problems there. Class ends and I run to my training session just so I could arrive 30 minutes late, again no problems there. Everyone was great. Except I started to get a little nervous when it was 1:30 and I had yet to receive my assignment school, which I finally received at 2:00.

Finding the school was a great experience. At first I accidentally went to an American equivalent of a Pre-K school, who kindly told me which I actually needed to go to (of course all while thinking I speak absolutely no French because I'm teaching English). Once I arrived I spoke with the secretary who had no idea that I would be coming, and then I talked with the directorice who also was surprised that I was there but at least knew that someone like me should be there. Turns out that I’m the THIRD professor in FOUR weeks, wondering if my kiddos scared them off. Hehe. 

Finding out what I was supposed to do was really difficult... I had no idea that I had to go and collect my students from the gym, nor did I know where my room was. You know, the little things that are essential for teaching a class.. Luckily some very nice French professors helped me out with everything, and I feel confident enough to do it all by myself next week! (Little buggers aren’t going to scare me off as easily as the others). 

All in all for it being the first day (for me) and my first time teaching a class of this size all by myself things went well. Not perfect by any means, but I’m sure that I’m not the worst first day professor. I did pretty gosh darn well for only one hour of preparation. Today we went over colors, of which I’m not sure that all of them know yet, but you know what. THAT’S OKAY. Pretty sure they learned more than they did drawing clowns last week! These little six year olds definitely take advantage of the fact that I can’t speak French very well. But again, that’s okay because now I have one more reason to study my ass off in French. 

I have also come to realize that a lot of my class is made up of students who “act up.” And, I kinda like it. Yes it’s hard, especially when that one kid kicks a chair when you move her to a new seat and you don’t know what to say to them. I honestly can’t blame them for acting the way they did today with having two others before me come and go. I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces when I show up again next week, and the week after that. Once consistency is shown I think that more respect will be shown, and that they will understand that I actually have authority. I can’t wait for the weeks to come! 

I also can’t wait to see what my Friday class is like. New school, new students, probably the same situation though. Except this time I’ll be much more prepared. 

(Professor) Adrian

Rue Thermopyles

I have been truly blessed with a road right by my foyer called Rue Thermopyles. I first found it in a blog, and now after visiting it over and over again it has become my favorite route to the metro. Here is a picture of it. There is so much green throughout it. It's a nice refreshing route to take that is so different than most of the main roads in paris. 

Then tonight I found out something that is even more amazing about this road. It looks as if every Saturday they all come together and watch a movie on a big screen in open air. 

It was so fun to just stand there and watch the movie for a few minutes with all of these French people.

I loved it and really hope that they do the movies weekly, because even though I'm not a resident of this road I would love to just stand in the street and watch the movie. I wish we had more things like this in the US.

The bank and cellphone experience

Back in the US I thought that it was a big deal to open a bank account when I opened my first one, but it ended up being extremely easy. France... Not so much. I asked around to see if I could find a bank that spoke English to make things easier. Which was great, until I saw the requirements for opening a bank account. The requirements were: * Passport and Visa

• Last two months bank statements
• A document showing that I am studying in Paris

AND my favorite one

*Proof of where I am staying. Such a French utility bill with my address

OR

*Proof of where I am staying: parent’s utility bill

I could easily do the first three, but not the last one. I kind of wanted the bank account to start a utility bill....

After several emails the banker came to the conclusion that I could use my cellphone bill back in the US. But really I can’t since it’s in my mother’s name (and I just pay the bill). Nor would a statement from my foyer saying that I live here would work. 

Eventually it was becoming quite obvious that there was no way that I was going to be able to open a bank account when suddenly something amazing happened. Our program director was given some pamphlets for a bank that regularly works with international students. For this bank the only thing that they asked for was my passport et voilà it was all finished! Signed a few papers, was told that in six months I will have to pay 2,50 euros a month for my account, and that I will need to come back within a week for my bank card. 

For the first time in my life, after having a few bank accounts, I can actually say I love my bank. Every time I come in the banker automatically knows who I am. When I went to get my bank card she had it ready for me. When I went to deposit money into my account she knew my information and didn’t ask me to present any identification at all. One time she asked me for a proof of address, and took a random piece of paper I had that was in a packet for my GU program. It is the best experience I have ever had in a bank before, with a close second of Bank of America and the banker actually showing me how to use everything and staying half an hour after close with me. The only problem I have with it is that I can only add money to my account Tuesday, Thursday and Friday from 9:00-12:30. Even then I can easily just hop on over to the bank in between classes since it’s so close to my university.  My bank is AWESOME. 

Part Two: the cellphone

First, in order to get a forfait, or... subscription, yes I already forgot what it is in English, with a cellphone company in France you need to have a French bank account. And in order to get a French bank account you need to have a utility bill from something such as a cellphone company... Hmmmmmmm. That’s a nice circle. 

Anyways, after I opened my French bank account I was finally able to make start my forfait with Free. In order to do so, it was quite funny to me, I had to enter my French bank information. Then after that I had to pay for my Nano SIM card and I couldn’t use my French bank account since I hadn’t received my debit card, and I had no idea what the number was. Soooo, just to make sure I tried everything I possibly could I put in my Bank of America debit card information, was brought to a BofA confirmation website and was able to buy my SIM card using my American account. So I used two different accounts throughout the process. Understanding how this worked still confuses me.

My Free forfait costs me 20,00 euros a month which converts to around $26. In my forfait I have unlimited phone calls within France, and then also to mobile and landlines in the US, Canada, along with I think 41 other countries. Unlimited text messages in France. And 3GB of data, which doesn’t seem like a lot but when you count in Free’s hundreds of WiFi hotspots you rarely ever have to use data. Compared to my US bill of around $160 a month for two phones with unlimited calls and texts only in the US, and 1GB of data I will gladly take my French account any day. Especially with how much it has cost me the last week to call back home, which I refuse to tell anyone the cost because it is so outrageous. 

Culture Shock... Maybe?

Les avions et les taxis...

After having already traveled to France once I wasn’t really expecting to have culture shock. Nor was I expecting to get that lovely travel bug that people get. However, this time it all hit me right in the face. My flight to Germany and then France was great. The flight attendants kept talking to me in German, even after telling them several times that I can’t speak German. Always made me laugh a little when they would ask the Americans around me what they wanted, in English, and then ask me what I wanted in German. The food was pretty good for airline food, Condor fed us a few times, Lufthansa fed us once (which was nice since it was only an hour or two plane flight) which I can say is much more than I ever received for food on an American airline.

Once I got off the plane in France everything was pretty great there too. I got my luggage without problem. Then I realized that I might need a France stamp in my passport for my yearlong visa. First information desk that I asked was extremely nice and even spoke with me in French the whole time. I went to the desk that I was told to go to and was told that only the police in France give stamps for visas of which I’m pretty sure isn’t true… Luckily another worker was walking by and heard what was said to me and explained that I only needed a stamp from within the Schengen area. None of that was too horrible either really, pretty much what I expected.

Now, here is what I didn’t expect. Since I had left my euros at home by accident I only had my bankcard, and I really didn’t want to pay the $5 fee to use the HSBC ATMs at Charles de Gaulle… So I set off to find a taxi that accepted bankcards foreign. My first taxi, yes first, I asked up front before he put my luggage in his car if he accepted bank cards and he paused for a moment and then kept putting my luggage in his car. Being American (I guess) I just assumed that pause was him confirming that he accepted bank cards. To my demise I soon realized, or rather saw, that there was a sign in his car saying “ne pas accepter les carts bancaires et les chèques dans cette voiture” (cards and cheques are not accepted in this car) so I automatically tell him “je n’ai pas de monie sur moi. J’ai juste cette carte” (I do not have any cash on me, just my card) and held up my bank card. He stomps on the breaks and turns off to the side of the road yelling at me in French and then finally asks me what I propose to do. I calmly explained that there is an ATM close to my foyer and I would be willing to get cash out there for him. He didn’t like that idea at all and asked again what I propose should be done. Finally I just responded in English telling him to bring me back to the airport. For the next two minutes I got to listen to him curse me out in French saying “putain de merde (quelque chose) qui a (mot je ne sais pas) .. merde… chez moi ce matin” (fucking shit who shit in my house this morning) along with so many other words I couldn’t keep up with. When we got to the airport he acted like he wanted to keep my luggage until I paid him (20 euros even though we had just gotten off the ramp of CDG and went back to the airport…) but luckily the lady who directed all of the taxis made him give me back my stuff and sent him on his way, with another client of course. I started to walk back into the airport when she stopped me and asked in French if I needed a taxi that accepted cards and found me one.

My new taxi driver was amazing. He was Vietnamese so it was an easy conversation starter with how many Vietnamese friends I have. He told me that he was originally from Ho Chi Minh City and that his family has two restaurants in Paris. For some reason he kept thinking I had a Vietnamese girlfriend (language barrier problems with badly spoken French [me] and badly spoken English [him]). I was honestly sad when we arrived at my foyer and just wanted to keep talking with him. He only charged me 51e for my taxi ride and told me that when I go back home I should call him and he will charge me the same price. Might just call him and have him drive me somewhere to talk with someone friendly! 


Le Foyer...

The foyer ended up not being what I was expecting. My bedroom has stains all over the walls, the wall trim has cracks in the paint, and the windowsill has cracks in it to the point that nothing can be put on it. If it wouldn’t cost so much I would just paint my room… The things that really got me were the burn marks throughout the room on the floor.  I called my mom crying saying that I just wanted to come home and not study here anymore. Luckily my mom is great and calmed me down telling me to just unpack my things and buy cleaning stuff soon as well as a rug to put on the floors. Really she was probably thinking YES YES PLEASE COME HOME. Thank you mom.

After being here for several days things have become a lot smoother. The hardest part is not having internet or a cell phone to call home that doesn’t cost 1.29 a minute. Hopefully I get a French cellphone plan tomorrow.

Originally I wanted to post all of the “behind the scenes” of study abroad, such as getting a visa, etc. Instead I’m going to have to make post ‘placeholders’ for these and write them at a later date.

À bientôt mes amis!

Surprise - Placeholder

The French Visa Process - Placeholder

Under Construction

Welcome to my blog! Since I am making this five days before I depart for France it may be in the construction phase for a while... But I will work on it when I possibly can! I will also include stuff that I have done leading up to this point. En