School

I have now had three days of school. Here are my observations:

1) French people have a much different concept of time than we do. School is usually from 8:30 to 6:00, which sounds like a super long time. Additionally, individual classes are between an hour and 2 hours long – 2 hours is really long to be doing anything, in my opinion. But here, in the lackadaisical countryside, a 2 hour gym class (which I had yesterday) might contain an hour or so of listening to the teacher talk about not terribly relevant stuff and taking forever to explain things (not that I, the stupid American, am complaining), half an hour of running, and half an hour of changing clothes/chilling. So, while it is completely and utterly exhausting to be at school that many hours a day, I highly doubt that they do more things in the day than I did at Homestead, especially with a decent loads of AP classes.

In France they also have lots of empty periods where you just happen not to have class, not to mention an hour and a half lunch. If this were at home, my studious friends and I would spend our copious spare time doing homework. I know that a) we're only just getting started and haven't done much yet, and b) they have less homework in general because they get out of school at 6:00 pm, but still. I never would've imagined that people would spend their two hour break just chilling with their friends, not even talking very much. Just chilling. Boggles the mind. The busy Silicon Valley girl that I am feels unproductive.

2) French people are bad at math. This is, of course, blatantly false, as I don't believe different ethnicities are significantly better or worse than each other (okay, except maybe the Ashkenazim and Chinese, but there have been studies to support that!). A better way of putting this sentence would be: the junior year math class at Truffaut is approximately equivalent to what I studied in 7^th and 9^th grade in Cupertino. Algebra. At once it's kind of a relief because I could skip all the classes I wanted to, not understand a word the teacher said, and still ace all the tests just so long as I remember to switch my commas and periods around. (In Europe, 5.2 = 5,2 and 1,000 = 1.000.)

Similarly, the other classes (which are mostly science) don't seem too difficult either. In Life and Earth Science we did mitosis, the classic looking at an onion under a microscope and finding the different phases. In physics we did a lab with projecting images onto a screen and measuring the distances between light and lens and lens and image. The only class that really scared me was French class, predictably.

3) French teachers, or perhaps just my own, are predominantly male. I didn't even realize this until my French teacher turned out to be female, and then realized how surprising it was that all my other teachers had been male. Perhaps it's because I'm in the science track, but I've never seen such a high concentration of guys in teaching before. I don't even think any of them are gay.

That's about it for the observations. I've been following around a really nice girl in my class named Julia (I'm changing all the names just in case they mind, because I haven't asked). I don't know how much of a bother I'm being to her, because I think I would probably mind if I were at Homestead and some exchange student who didn't speak English very well tagged on to me for the entire school day. But then again, she seems like a much nicer person than I am. Also, French people think America is cool. On Wednesday we came home for lunch, on Thursday I ate with my host sister's friends who I don't like because they act very awkwardly around me and mostly just try not to address me, and so on Friday I invited myself over to Julia's table. Her friends are far more open and friendly. I knew one of them already from hanging out on Thursday during our open periods, and then there were a bunch of other small, cute girls with lots of questions about the existence of cheerleaders, prom, etc. Of course we cannot forget the swishy gay friend who talks too fast for me to understand, but also has decent English. The first thing he said upon meeting me was “I'm from New Jersey!” and I believed him. It was only with the second sentence he said that I heard the French accent and the groping for words. So they were all very nice and let me hang out with them. One of them is acting as a guide for the other American exchange student, who I met on Thursday. She's here with Rotary, her name is Sarah which is next to impossible to say with a French accent, and she doesn't speak a word of French. Eek! Fortunately, most of the girls guiding her said that they like her and like the opportunity to practice their English. Personally, I can't imagine doing that in a million years. It would be like me going to Russia, right now. How would I survive in school? How would I bond with my host family, or express my gratitude? I am just too independent to do that – it already grates that I am more dependent on others now than I was before. So I feel bad for her, but it sounds like she's having fun anyway.

On Friday, I missed the bus. I didn't even do anything after class, it just goes really early apparently. Seeing as I didn't yet have a cell phone (I do now!), Maman and I were especially freaked out. Fortunately, my curly-haired guide for the bus who was supposed to show me how it works convinced the bus driver to circle around again for me. What a gentleman. So in the end I got home, but it had already been a really long day and the only thing I felt like was curling up in bed and sleeping. Then we went to the faire.

I hate faires. I hate the noise and the people and the smell of burned grease. I like roller coasters, but I hate circular rides that make me sick. I hate not being able to understand a word people are saying because it's French and there's too much noise. I also hate being a spoilsport, so I tend to grit my teeth and follow everyone else around. Let's just say that was really not my favorite part of the France experience and move on.

It is now Saturday morning, which is a mixed bag. Saturday is great, because it means no school. I like school, but it's stressful. Morning is less good. It tends to be morning and evenings when I feel the most homesick. I try to remember that it's not really because I'm homesick, but rather because this follows my normal emotional patterns – at home I tended to feel the lowest about my life, school, etc., when I was about to sleep or when I'd just woken up, especially for school. So when my dreams slowly coalesce into an awareness of myself and I remember where I am, and the homesickness hits me like a full-speed BART train, I just tell myself the same thing I did in Sunnyvale. One day at a time. It'll go faster than you can even imagine, if you just take one day at a time.

One of the things I miss the most is being clever and knowing what to do. A lot of my identity is tied up in that, and the fact that I really can't be that way here hurts. I sound so stupid in French. Blech.

And that note was really not how I meant to end this blog post. I'm having a great time and I really like my family, the school, and the people I've been meeting. It's all going fantastically. It's just hard, and very different. But that's part of why I came here, too! I wanted challenge, I wanted not to be bored, and I wanted to give myself a hard time so I could learn and grow and change, since I didn't feel that I was growing enough in my home environment anymore. Well, here it is. I got what I wanted. And now I'm going to make the best of it.

Your complimentary French song for the day is a French camp favorite that I was tickled to hear at the faire last night: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VHoT4N43jK8

Also, anyone who wants to help edit college essays, shoot me an email or comment below. Thanks!