I just bought a round trip, non-stop flight from Paris to New York for 334€, or less than $498. That is an unbelievably good deal. In September I flew through Reykjavik, on a really nice flight with Iceland Air, and thought that $515 was fantastic, but this is ten times better since I don't have to stop.
I am very, very excited. The assistant headmaster at my school, who is awesome, gave me the green light to take an extra week of work off before winter vacation in February so that I can extend my time in New York. I really wanted to go for longer than just 13 days or so, and now I'll be there for a full 18.5 days! I'll have to make up the hours, of course, but I have plenty of time to do so.
Mark your calendars, 'cause I arrive February 15th and leave on March 5th. There will be a BIG party for my 30th birthday. My birthday itself is the 19th, which is a Friday this year, but it's Presidents' weekend. At least, I assume it is cause it normally is. That means that it's more likely my New York friends will be out of town, but also more likely my non-New York friends could make it in.
Regardless of if I have the party the day of or the week later, I am super-excited that I'll be able to celebrate my birthday with my family this year. I haven't done so since I turned 26, and it's been a bit sad and difficult each year. And it's especially nice since this is such a big landmark year. I still can't believe I'm going to be 30.
I realize that my grammar is not quite up to snuff in this email, which is hopefully permissible given that it's almost 2 am. I just wanted to get it out there that I'm heading back to New York in 3 months and 1 week. Or exactly 100 days. Let the countdown begin!
In other news, I just got back from 10 days in Krakow (liked it) and Budapest (LOVED it), am heading to London (whee!) on Friday, and oh, I think I might have a boyfriend.
From now until the end of 2009 I have only 61 classroom hours to teach. On top of that I have all of my private lessons and tutoring, but so many of my classes are away on stages from here on that I never once work the full 12 classroom hours a week.
It makes coming back from a great vacation a bit easier to bear!
Very very early tomorrow morning I am hopping on a plane to Krakow. I will spend four days/three nights there, and then take the night train to Budapest. I'll have six days in Hungary, that I'll split between Budapest, Eger, and maybe Sopron.
This is my first long trip since last February, when I went to Andalusia. I've been wanting to go do Krakow and Budapest for years now, so I'm pretty excited. I'm a bit nervous about the weather, cause it's supposedly very very cold for the season, but there's not much I can do about that. If there's sun, it'll be fine, but the Krakow forecast is for rain with highs in the low 50s. Eek!
While in Krakow I'll spend a day at Auschwitz, which I expect to be pretty difficult. I have no idea how I'll react once there, but I know it's something I really want to do, no matter how hard it is.
I'm also going to visit Wieliczka Salt Mines, which I've been wanting to see since reading the excellent book Salt: A World History last year.
I have two guide books for Krakow, one French and one American, but welcome any and all suggestions for places to eat, visit, shop, etc. I'll be there October 25th in the morning to October 28th at night, when I leave for Hungary. Let me know if you have tips!
Why is birth control called birth control, and not pregnancy control?
]]>I’m nearing the end of my first week of teaching at Lycée A, and so far, so good. This is the fourth school I've worked at, since my second year teaching I was assigned to two collèges. Out of the four, this is by far my favorite. I don’t want to jinx myself by breathing a huge sigh of relief, but the past three days have been really enjoyable.
A huge part of this happiness is my awesome commute. Assuming that one were to wake up on time, one could walk to Lycée A from my apartment in about 12 minutes. If one were to, say, shut off one’s alarm without actually getting out of bed two mornings in a row and then spend too long catching up on one’s blog roll on the third morning, one would still not be screwed. There just happens to be a bus that runs directly between one’s house and the door of the school that shaves five minutes off the normal seven-minute trip. So, one has not yet been late to work.
Okay, back to the first person.
My students are universally respectful in class, and the majority is interested and participates. Some of them have a truly abysmal level of English, considering the number of years they’ve been taking English class, but they do seem interested in improving.
I’ve had some really funny moments so far this week, too. During the first lesson I say something like, “My name is Sophie, I’ve lived in Paris for three years, I love to travel, I like to go to the marché, and I hate to get up early.” And then I ask them to introduce themselves. I get a lot of, “My name is Laurent, I’m 16, I have 2 sisters and I like music.” But this one girl, one of the not-so-interested ones, said her name and then just looked at me. I said, “okay, what do you like, what do you not like, what do you do on the weekends?” and she just replied, “I have no passion” in a completely monotone voice. It took a lot of will to not laugh, although I couldn't quite stop myself from blurting out, “that’s sad!”
Another kid, Akim, forgot to turn off his cell phone in class. Normally I would have chastised him, but his ring tone was the theme song to the Fresh Prince of Bel Air, so I just burst out laughing. Akim is memorable for other reasons, too. When introducing himself, he said that he loves his girlfriend of two years. He then proceeded to hit on me THE ENTIRE CLASS. He was very charming about it, and obviously joking, but when it was time for the kids to practice their question skills, Akim’s questions were: How long have you had a boyfriend? How far is your apartment? Do you have a roommate? How big is it? Big enough for me to come over? Oh, Akim.
A nice bonus of teaching in the same arrondissement as the two collèges from 2007-2008 is that I’ve seen several of my old students. While setting up my desk for Akim’s class, Antoine, whom I taught when he was in 4ème (or 8th grade) came up to my desk and timidly said, “Madame?” When I looked up I was so happy to see him. He was part of a class of all 8th grade boys. You’d think that would have been a nightmare, but we always had a great time, perhaps because I hated their English teacher even more than they did, and didn’t hide it. He said he remembered me, and even remembered my last name, and that he was really happy at Lycée A even though no one else from his collège class ended up there. He had always been a kind of stuttering, shy kid, and now seemed much more confident. It was nice to see.
Also nice to see was Pauline, a girl from my favorite-ever class. She stopped in the hallway and said “je la connais!/I know her!” which is not very elegant, but it got my attention. We didn’t have a chance to talk, because the bell rang so we both had to get to class, but I really hope I see her again soon. The school’s not that big, so I’m sure I will. I adored that class, and really want to find out how everyone is. They wrote me the nicest letters at the end of the year, and we always laughed a lot.
My private lessons are going well, too. Tonight was my first lesson with a great Franco-American family with five kids. I’ll tutor three of them, ages 9, 7, and 4. The two little girls (ages 7 and 4) sent me out the door with hugs and kisses and at one point Caroline actually got down on her knees and bowed to me.
So, I’m happy. Financially completely insecure, but happy.
]]>
Look how pretty:
While walking home from the market just now, I'm pretty sure I witnessed a candid camera shooting. I noticed a very upset older Chinese woman shrieking "non! non!" at a man. He had two large containers of lighter fluid resting by his feet. At least, I assume it was lighter fluid or something of the sort, because of the large flammable icons. The man was exaggeratedly miming lighting a cigarette, which obviously freaked out this woman.
I was wondering what the hell was going on, because it seemed very fake. If the guy was going to light his cigarette, why on earth was he taking so long to do it? It seemed like he was taunting the woman. And if she was having such a hard time getting him to understand her, why didn't she just run away before the firestorm?
I figured it was a rehearsal for some sort of comedy show, although it wasn't very funny and certainly in an odd location. I walked right by, assuming no one was in danger, and then I heard applause and laughter. A man jumped out of a nearby parked van and the cigarette-lighting man hugged the frantic woman. I'm pretty sure it was some sort of cruel candid camera-type show.
So if you ever see this skit, and notice a woman walking right by the action in a bright red sweater, holding a large package of toilet paper, that's me. I promise I'm not that callous, I'm just a New Yorker.
There are several projects that I'd love to take care of around the house: covering my headboard in a pretty fabric, hiding the food in my kitchen island, and painting the back of my bookshelf, for starters. But all of these are new ideas, or at least new to this apartment. I've been talking about refinishing my wooden stool for almost a year now.
I got it when I moved into my place in the 14th, where my landlord found it in his garage. Plain varnished wood, spotted with white paint here and there, it was serviceable but not very attractive. I've been meaning to do something about it forever. I finally went to Castorama and got the supplies this August, when I found myself with so much extra time on my hands. I did the sanding in the courtyard of my building, and the painting in my place, on a newspaper-covered floor. I'm really happy with how it turned out!
Yesterday my friend Grant emailed me, saying, "I already read the ice cream thing weeks ago so get off your ass and write something cool." Simmer down, Grant.
But he's right, of course. I haven't written anything in over a month, mostly because I was in the States for over three week. Mostly in New York, with a quick three-day visit to my maternal grandparents in Los Angeles. Even though this trip was significantly longer than most of my trips home, I still didn't get to see everyone or do everything I wanted to. I was particularly looking forward to catching up with one of my childhood friends, Jade. She's one of the friends I mentioned back in this post, and we haven't seen each other in way too many years. Hopefully next time . . .The stars were shining on me, however, because I was accepted. Once I moved apartments, I called up the lovely new lady at the rectorat (I’m still sad that Madame Dionis is gone, but the new Madame Couetdic seems to be more on the ball) and asked if it was possible to assign me a school near my new apartment, rather than the one they had on file. She said she’d see what she could do, but no promises. And then, score! The high school I’ll be working at is a 12-minute walk from my place!
I went by to meet the headmistress back in July, and we really hit it off. Then yesterday I met the English teacher in charge of me, Solange. We had already spoken on the phone and emailed a few times, mostly to discuss my scheduling preferences. I have been nothing but impressed with the school’s organization, so far. I already have my finalized schedule for the year, and received all my paperwork from the intendance and secretariat. I’ve been given a tour of the school, my own whiteboard markers and attendance book (ooh, the power I wield!), and met three of the six English teachers I’ll be working with. All of this makes me think that I’ll probably hate the students, as in my experience it’s impossible to like both the staff AND the students in one school.
I’m really happy with my schedule, too. Every other week I have to work one hour on Fridays, from 11 am to noon, but other than that I have four-day weekends and never work before 9 am or past 4 pm. And eight of my 12 classes are in the same room, which is really nice. Of course, the other four classes are in the amphitheater, which will be interesting, to say the least, but you can’t have it all.
Tomorrow is orientation, which I’m not looking forward to that much since I have a feeling I’ll know most of the information. But I can just play Scramble on my awesome new iTouch.
I’ve already had two hours of tutoring since being back: one with Lucas, and one with the hot pilot. Both went really well, and I had a huge smile on my face when I rang the doorbell at Lucas’ house and heard him squeal “it’s SOPHIE!” His reading has advanced so much; I have a feeling that soon I won’t have much more work to do!
I’m still in the process of scheduling all of my private lessons. I have to turn down quite a few people, since I won’t have the time or energy to take on all the clients that contact me. I’m having trouble figuring out how many hours I should do in addition to the twelve hours of classroom time. It’s a bit frustrating, because if you break down the pay by hour, I get paid literally twice as much to tutor as to be an assistant, but I need the assistantship for the working papers and the paid vacation. It’s really a pretty good deal.
And I am SO relieved that my 15 months of being a sans papiers are over. I think the only reason I don’t feel guilty is that I earned this! Living illegally takes dedication.
]]>Over the past few weeks I have been conducting a highly scientific study of the ice cream shops in Paris. Everyone says that Berthillon is the best in town, but I disagree. While certainly not a popular opinion, I think their ice creams and sorbets are too sweet. Even their caramel au beurre salée, which is generally my idea of heaven, is too sweet and slightly burnt tasting.
Everyone knows Amorino, the Italian-style French-owned (I think?) company that crafts their gelato into flowers. I really, really like their yogurt ice cream, and many of the other flavors are quite good, but nothing spectacular. So I figured there had to be something better out there.
David Lebovitz declared Pozzetto the best gelato in Paris, so I went to check it out. About ten days later, I don't remember what flavors I had (bad sign), but I do remember being unimpressed. I would try it once more, selecting different flavors, but I wasn't wowed the first time around.
What did wow me, however, was the Italian import Grom. I remember having Grom when in Florence a few years back, and being impressed with their slow food philosophy. Located very conveniently on Rue de Seine, about halfway between Odéon and St Germain des Près metro stops, it's my new favorite left bank ice cream.
I don't normally order vanilla, but theirs won an award so I figured I'd try it. Oh, my. It was so flavorful and creamy. I found the coffee too intense, but that's because it actually tastes like espresso, exactly as they claimed. Totally my bad for expecting a Haagen Dazs type sweetened milk with a dash of sugar coffee. This was full on espresso with sugar, and gave me an insane sugar/caffeine rush.
I went back a few days later, solely for research purposes, of course, and got the vanilla again. Still good. This time I tried the cioccolato fondente, one of their three chocolates. The balance was perfect. I prefer dark chocolate to milk chocolate, and this was a very fine dark chocolate ice cream. I'd like to try their extra-dark chocolate or chocolate sorbet next time (listed at the store, but not on the site), and also sample some of their fruit sorbets, which look just as good. Still, the vanilla is definitely a top choice.
My new favorite right bank ice cream is Raimo, a 25-minute walk from my house. In case you didn't know, that's the perfect distance for working up an appetite, and then working off the ice cream. While Amorino, Grom, and Pozzetto are all Italian-style gelato, Raimo is straight-up French. I'd tried the ginger on my first visit, which was surprising and very spicy. It definitely catered to ginger lovers, like me!
This time, I got caramel au beurre salée and lait à la menthe. They were both perfection. I kept on taking bites, expecting the next one to be disappointing, because it couldn't possibly be as good as I thought it was. But it was. It is! Raimo seems to have mastered the caramel au beurre salée ice cream in a way I've never seen. It's the closest to a Ladurée macaron that I've yet tasted, which is a pretty good hallmark. And the lait à la menthe, while sadly a summer 2009 specialty, was creamy and sweet and refreshing and maybe my favorite of all the ice creams I've mentioned above.
I hear that Grom opened up a few shops in Manhattan, so I definitely recommend my friends there check it out. As for Raimo, I guess you'll just have to come visit me!
]]>