First (Real) Day of School

This morning I woke up at 7 (earliest in a while) and hopped on the bus at around 7:30 to go to school. I was supposed to have 2 hours of Philosophy, but the first “hour” consisted of three guys speaking to a class of about 150 (for all of you to whom I showed pictures of my school, it was in the intense classroom with the really straight rows and books and little black board) for about 20 minutes. We then hung out in the outdoor commons-type area till our actual philosophy class started. My professor is really nice, she basically told me all I have to do is sit and listen and maybe take some notes. I am going to try to do as much as I can, but right now there is only so much I can do with my knowledge of French.

Then I went to English class, which I was really excited for because I was going to be able to understand EVERYTHING. Turns out the teachers kind of a jerk face…like we all introduced ourselves (I started…weird how much more outgoing I am when I know the language…sometimes I feel like a different person when I’m only speaking French) and she pretty much interrogated everyone for more information (except for me). She also doesn’t get the fact that teenagers giggle about stuff that isn’t that funny to older people, and she asks us why we are giggling because there’s “nothing to giggle about.” Then the class pretty much turned into her asking them what they thought about a picture of a protest in our book, and after each response she would kind of give me this look and ask me what I thought. Kind of annoying…I mean I know I’m the only fluent speaker in the class but that doesn’t mean I’m an expert on every subject that we could talk about (even speaking English is weird because I don’t do it very often).

I then proceeded to my History and Geography class, which should be very interesting because I have a really funny professor…and I love history. We start from 1945, so it was interesting to hear how World War II (or it’s aftermath) is taught in Europe as opposed to in America. From what I could understand it seems like my professor is very intelligent and not a pinko-commie-socialist as you might expect a French social studies teacher to be. The only problem is the fact that the class is 2 hours long, so I took a 20 minute respite in the middle of class and read my English book, which was nice because I didn’t have to strain my brain to understand everything.

Next I found out what eating “a la cantine” was like in France. The cantine is their food court thingy and it brought me back to the years of hot lunch in elementary school…with really mediocre tasting food. All I wanted was to hop in my car with my friends (or actually someone else’s, because we all know gas is expensive) and go to Chipotle…but that is a false hope that will not happen for the next year. I’m so glad I know people though, it makes it so much easier. I sat with my friends (from yesterday) at lunch, as well as some other guys I met that are in my class. The French system is working out great for me (taking the same classes with the same people) because the kids in my class are extremely nice and accepting. I met a lot of new people today, and everyone is really, really great (and patient with my French).

The class I dreaded most was last. Math. I thought maybe I would understand more in this class because you know like numbers are universal…no. I understood barely anything. Names of numbers, like integers, prime, even etc. are different and my little pocket dictionary helps me not with figuring these out. There is a word we used like the whole class and I still don’t know exactly what it is. I started taking notes but decided it was a wasted effort so I stopped, and kind of fell asleep for a second. My teacher came up and asked me why I wasn’t taking notes/if I was taking the bac (their big college placement exam) at the end of the year. I told her no, and I got the response of “oh, okay,” although I did try after that (still, no comprehension).

After school I went to the café with my friends (it seriously is such a relief, and feels so great to say that I have friends). I declined the 4 dollar coke and instead got a class of water, and we played a card game called Tarot (no, not tarot cards, we weren’t divining our futures or anything like that) which was very hard because first of all the cards and names of suits are different, and the explanations I got I could understand a little of (it’s like learning Hearts in a foreign language). I discovered it was a little bit like Hearts with teams…but I still don’t really understand it. One amazing (or so I think) thing happened there though; they played the Sufjan Stevens Come on Feel the Illinoise! CD at the café so I had some familiar music to listen to in a unfamiliar place. How crazy is that…an artist not even really well known in America (for those of you who don’t know, he’s the one making a CD for each state) being played in a Café in Paris. Crazyness. Sorry this is more than you really needed to know. I’m really tired. Foreign school is very tiring to every aspect of your being. Goodnight.

Brent