poor, neglected blog
Last week many exciting things happened! Thus, the lack of regular blog posts. First of all, last week was the first full week of classes at the university. I had forgotten how tiring teaching can be and just how much work it takes to come up with lesson plans. I don't know how I did it last year...at least this year, I have some plans already made that work quite well.
Monday morning, however, was a bad, bad surprise. I have an 8am class that is an option that non-English majors can take. I don't grade the students, nor is attendance required. I was thinking that no one would come to class...I mean, come on, 8am on a Monday??
I arrived at the university and saw a foule (crowd) of students standing outside my door and I told myself, oh no, those students can't possibly be mine! I entered the room and turned on the light and they all followed me in...all 40 of them. Biggest class I've ever taught! This week I was sure that the numbers in the class would have dropped (it is, after all, supposed to be a conversation course...which doesn't work so well with such high numbers)...but this week I had 55 students show up at 8am! Problem? I think so, but unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about it.
The good news about last week is that I got two very important pieces of paperwork straightened out: my carte de sejour has been successfully renewed and I got my carte vitale which gives me access to the French health insurance system. I never filed the paperwork last year because I never needed to go to the doctor, but now it's comforting to know that I have proof of insurance if I need it.
The day I went to the prefecture to get my carte de sejour renewed was kind of interesting. I'd recently been talking to a friend about how I have an "open face." This means that I look approachable, and as a result, many people feel comfortable coming up to me in the street or elsewhere to ask me a question. When I went to the prefecture, it was early and I had my ipod in and I was leaned up against a wall looking completely dejected. I hate going to the prefecture, I hate being there early when I could still be sleeping and I hate waiting there and being made to feel like a complete social outcast. All of these things were reflected on my face and in my posture. Yet, out of all the people waiting to be called, an older woman came up to me and tugged on my arm, asking me if I would help her use the photo machine. I can't imagine why she choose me in particular.
Later that same day, I was waiting in line at the train station store to renew my discount card. An older French woman literally started to tell me the story of her life while I waited in line! She was intrigued by my accent and proceeded to tell me about her childhood, etc. It was interesting to me because it's not very often that I talk to someone who lived through the World Wars here in Europe. It's a completely different perspective, especially since this region was passed back and forth between the Germans and the French. This woman had some deep-seated hatred for the Germans which I politely tried to disarm (without disclosing my own German heritage), but considering what she lived through, I suppose it's much too late to change her opinions.
Who knew that running errands around Metz could be so interesting?
Monday morning, however, was a bad, bad surprise. I have an 8am class that is an option that non-English majors can take. I don't grade the students, nor is attendance required. I was thinking that no one would come to class...I mean, come on, 8am on a Monday??
I arrived at the university and saw a foule (crowd) of students standing outside my door and I told myself, oh no, those students can't possibly be mine! I entered the room and turned on the light and they all followed me in...all 40 of them. Biggest class I've ever taught! This week I was sure that the numbers in the class would have dropped (it is, after all, supposed to be a conversation course...which doesn't work so well with such high numbers)...but this week I had 55 students show up at 8am! Problem? I think so, but unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about it.
The good news about last week is that I got two very important pieces of paperwork straightened out: my carte de sejour has been successfully renewed and I got my carte vitale which gives me access to the French health insurance system. I never filed the paperwork last year because I never needed to go to the doctor, but now it's comforting to know that I have proof of insurance if I need it.
The day I went to the prefecture to get my carte de sejour renewed was kind of interesting. I'd recently been talking to a friend about how I have an "open face." This means that I look approachable, and as a result, many people feel comfortable coming up to me in the street or elsewhere to ask me a question. When I went to the prefecture, it was early and I had my ipod in and I was leaned up against a wall looking completely dejected. I hate going to the prefecture, I hate being there early when I could still be sleeping and I hate waiting there and being made to feel like a complete social outcast. All of these things were reflected on my face and in my posture. Yet, out of all the people waiting to be called, an older woman came up to me and tugged on my arm, asking me if I would help her use the photo machine. I can't imagine why she choose me in particular.
Later that same day, I was waiting in line at the train station store to renew my discount card. An older French woman literally started to tell me the story of her life while I waited in line! She was intrigued by my accent and proceeded to tell me about her childhood, etc. It was interesting to me because it's not very often that I talk to someone who lived through the World Wars here in Europe. It's a completely different perspective, especially since this region was passed back and forth between the Germans and the French. This woman had some deep-seated hatred for the Germans which I politely tried to disarm (without disclosing my own German heritage), but considering what she lived through, I suppose it's much too late to change her opinions.
Who knew that running errands around Metz could be so interesting?