A Visit to France
June 5, 1995
A Visit To France
France. I am in France and I'm having this incredible Disney experience. I know this can't be real because so much of my life is composed of simulated experiences which are meant to be almost real, that this has left me in a bizarre twilight world in which I expect my guide to show up and direct me to the exit when my time is up. My mind speaks French and English and I can no longer speak comfortably in either language. Someone has very cleverly taken all the signs here and translated them into Franglais. Everything is the same but nothing matches. The "ordinateur" on which I'm typing has some of the letters in the wrong places, upside down. Much of my college French is intact, but I, who never have trouble speaking, have nothing to say with those words.
I am traveling with the kids from my kids' school. As we left the U. S. I realized that my children didn't want to be with me, except occasionally for comfort. Did I want to be with the teacher all the time? What I'd like is to be able to have hours and hours to absorb all the different smells I'm smelling, and sights I'm seeing. But it is hopeless not to be able to speak quickly and comfortably with other adults.
The people are friendly and kind. The school children point at "les eleves Americain" and giggle. There are a lot of kids here who smoke which is very different for our predominently Mormon students. The town we are visiting is very small, 7500 people, and our students are attending two schools, one for students from 11-15 years old and one for students from 15-17.
The classes are counted down--rather than up as we do--so an 11 year old student in class 6 goes to class 5 at age 12, and class 4 at 13. The final class, or "terminale," follows the 1st year.
Students follow one of two courses of study which are determined by a test given at the end of their 3rd year. If they do well, they can continue towards the "terminale" class and the bacalauriet exam, a very difficult AP type test. If they are successful there, they may attend the university. If they don't do as well, they continue at the "lycee" and study a professional course which prepares them to take a job immediately upon graduation. The professional course, what we would think of as a trade school course, is an extensive preparation in one of several fields such as child care, metalwork, or secretarial work. If you don't pass the test, you simply don't get to go to the university.
The culture shock on the first day was enormous. After being on a plane for 14 hours, students were suddenly whizzing through the crowded Paris subways, meeting their families for the first time, and eating dinner when their bodies thought it was time for lunch and a nap. Many fell asleep exhausted only to find themselves wide awake at 2 in the morning. It felt good to meet together the next day and find that no one could understand a word, even the straight A students, and that everyone was worried about being polite enough.
All of the families have bought special food and most are making special efforts to take their guests places this weekend which is a three day holiday. For many, these students will be the only Americans they will ever meet.
Food is an important part of French life and meals are served in courses with a salad first, followed by the main course, then a cheese plate (all students have been encouraged to like cheese or die) and a dessert. Everyone makes a daily pilgrimage or two to the local "patisserie" for freshly baked croissants and long bread loaves called "bagettes."
This is an exciting experience for even a hardened mom like myself. My best hours have been from 5 to 6 a.m. while I have walked along narrow, winding streets crowded with lovely old houses and gardens and watched other early risers hurry off to work, smelled the bread baking in the early morning air, and listened to the hundreds of birds in the quiet. This morning I walked along the Seine on its way to Paris! That's when I feel that I am the luckiest person in the world to be here.
A Visit To France
France. I am in France and I'm having this incredible Disney experience. I know this can't be real because so much of my life is composed of simulated experiences which are meant to be almost real, that this has left me in a bizarre twilight world in which I expect my guide to show up and direct me to the exit when my time is up. My mind speaks French and English and I can no longer speak comfortably in either language. Someone has very cleverly taken all the signs here and translated them into Franglais. Everything is the same but nothing matches. The "ordinateur" on which I'm typing has some of the letters in the wrong places, upside down. Much of my college French is intact, but I, who never have trouble speaking, have nothing to say with those words.
I am traveling with the kids from my kids' school. As we left the U. S. I realized that my children didn't want to be with me, except occasionally for comfort. Did I want to be with the teacher all the time? What I'd like is to be able to have hours and hours to absorb all the different smells I'm smelling, and sights I'm seeing. But it is hopeless not to be able to speak quickly and comfortably with other adults.
The people are friendly and kind. The school children point at "les eleves Americain" and giggle. There are a lot of kids here who smoke which is very different for our predominently Mormon students. The town we are visiting is very small, 7500 people, and our students are attending two schools, one for students from 11-15 years old and one for students from 15-17.
The classes are counted down--rather than up as we do--so an 11 year old student in class 6 goes to class 5 at age 12, and class 4 at 13. The final class, or "terminale," follows the 1st year.
Students follow one of two courses of study which are determined by a test given at the end of their 3rd year. If they do well, they can continue towards the "terminale" class and the bacalauriet exam, a very difficult AP type test. If they are successful there, they may attend the university. If they don't do as well, they continue at the "lycee" and study a professional course which prepares them to take a job immediately upon graduation. The professional course, what we would think of as a trade school course, is an extensive preparation in one of several fields such as child care, metalwork, or secretarial work. If you don't pass the test, you simply don't get to go to the university.
The culture shock on the first day was enormous. After being on a plane for 14 hours, students were suddenly whizzing through the crowded Paris subways, meeting their families for the first time, and eating dinner when their bodies thought it was time for lunch and a nap. Many fell asleep exhausted only to find themselves wide awake at 2 in the morning. It felt good to meet together the next day and find that no one could understand a word, even the straight A students, and that everyone was worried about being polite enough.
All of the families have bought special food and most are making special efforts to take their guests places this weekend which is a three day holiday. For many, these students will be the only Americans they will ever meet.
Food is an important part of French life and meals are served in courses with a salad first, followed by the main course, then a cheese plate (all students have been encouraged to like cheese or die) and a dessert. Everyone makes a daily pilgrimage or two to the local "patisserie" for freshly baked croissants and long bread loaves called "bagettes."
This is an exciting experience for even a hardened mom like myself. My best hours have been from 5 to 6 a.m. while I have walked along narrow, winding streets crowded with lovely old houses and gardens and watched other early risers hurry off to work, smelled the bread baking in the early morning air, and listened to the hundreds of birds in the quiet. This morning I walked along the Seine on its way to Paris! That's when I feel that I am the luckiest person in the world to be here.
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