Bonne intégration!

So Wednesday was the three week anniversary of my arrival here in France. It's quite a considerable time, longer than I have ever spent abroad in any country, let alone France, and as a result a certain amount of integrating has been achieved.
For instance...

Chambord Chateau

• I have been to my first French church service.
• I have been to a food festival and my first ever Handball match with a lovely teacher
• With my new FRENCH friends at the MAJO, I have
• seen Chambourd chateau 
• watched deer at dusk (the sounds they make are called 'braume' here)
• seen my first wild boars
• played Flag Football (mixed, non-contact American football) for the first time on Wednesday - it was SO GOOD!!
• been to an ABBA homage - really good fun
• eaten my first roasted chestnuts - ok, but I wouldn't pay for them
• had my first ever Zumba lesson!
• I have played badminton with the natives and been invited back to play next time
• I have finally been let loose in my two schools with my own classrooms and agendas!! SUCH FUN!

However, there are the occasional moments (at first they were several times a day moments but thankfully their frequency is diminishing) when I feel like I have stumbled into a funeral wearing a clown outfit. Take for example....

• When being asked for my 'nom' and replying Suzanne. For those who do not understand, 'nom' in French means 'surname' and prénom is first name. I don't think I've actually submitted any forms under the name 'Wood Suzanne' yet though... je croise mes doigts (fingers crossed). 
• Tuesday, when I needed to tell the secretary at the bank my surname. I started to spell it: 'W... O...'. However she decided to ignore the 'W' and write it 'OOD'. Then she looked at me as if to say 'what a ridiculous surname' like it was my fault. A friend whose surname also begins with 'W' has also found reluctance from the French to spell it this way; variants are said to include 'V' instead of 'W', but I haven't had this yet. 
• Or one of my favourite things (along with crisp apple strudels - how right Julie Andrews was): being early for everything. Yesterday I ventured along to play badminton with the natives, and, not knowing where the Gymnase was, I left myself a bit of wriggle room. I arrived 10 minutes early, but didn't consider this a problem as it gave me a chance to ear-wig on the mothers of the French children using the same hall to play basketball. At 8pm the man who I could only assume to be in charge of badminton (he was carrying a bag of shuttlecocks / volants - which I would literally translate as 'flyers') arrived, and a kindly mother ushered me along towards him, and told him I had been waiting for 10 minutes for him. I was then chastised - 'why did you turn up before 8pm? I told you 8pm! Don't turn up early!' I think I mumbled something along the lines of 'the English are always early...'

Nonetheless, I still think I am gradually getting the upper hand in this surviving in France lark. 

More of my favourite things:

• The Baguettes. You know bread is good when you can eat it on its own. 
• The Mars bars. They are SO much better here! They are the same as milky way bars, but with caramel. I was beyond excited when I realised what I was eating. 
• Eating baguette and strawberry jam in my room
• but not so much getting crumbs and jam over my bedding...
• Finally getting approved by a bank!!
• haven't dared to look at how to set-up my internet banking though
• I'm really enjoying the teaching. Which is a good thing, since I've got 12 hours per week of it for the next six months!
• The word 'mélange' - far superior to our word 'mixture'. 
• The way the French just whack the word 'bon' in front of something to wish you a happy X, Y or Z. For example: bon appetit, bon weekend, bonne journée, bon fake-tan (je blague)... My favourite is definitely 'bon courage'. Literally 'good courage', but the equivalent of 'chin up' or 'keep calm and carry on'. 
• The way everyone says hello to each other here. 

• I can't enter a room without the occupants welcoming me with a 'Bonjour!' which sounds like they genuinely mean it. It's lovely. 
• Nor can you escape the bises (kisses): the number of bises (one on each cheek, starting on the left) I've given to and received from French chaps and chapesses is innumerable. As a general rule, it's the first time you see them in the day and then you're set for the rest of the day, but with my close friends here it's when I see them in the morning, and in the evening when we go for dinner. I hasten to add that they are on the cheek - naughty (Miranda Hart eat your heart out). Girls give and receive kisses to guys and girls, but the guys here at the MAJO shake hands with other guys. I've seen male teachers at my school give each other bises though, so maybe it's a generational thing. 

• The pace of life here. For example, the way everyone takes two hour lunch breaks. Great if you're having lunch, but not so great if you want to go into the bank (closed from Saturday lunchtime until Tuesday morning), or trying to organise an activity and your only free time is at lunchtime. Everyone just seems so much more relaxed and content. Or maybe I'm just deluded and they've slipped something in my éclair au chocolat in order to keep me as a convert here forever...
• Romorantin. I really am loving living here - it is just SO cute and French! And I love going to a boulangerie or patisserie every day for bread or a tarte aux pommes, and the people are so friendly (I've been given lifts home twice by strangers) and understanding when I make a mistake in French... After constantly moaning about coming on this year abroad, I know it's going to be a tear and a half to leave... 

Slight drawbacks but nothing to buck my stride:

• My timetable still isn't finalised. Don't be silly.