Final Week.

Saturday 6th:
Lunch was spent with my collège responsable and her family. Her husband is from Tunisia, and I really enjoyed chatting with them both about Tunisia and the cultural differences between there and France. The meal started with crisps, then salad, then fish and mashed potato, then strawberries and gingerbread with chantilly cream. After the meal, she played her accordion for me. It was SUPER cool!! She said that her husband and sons didn't like hearing it, which I thought was a real shame. Soon it was time to leave to go to her son's handball match, and his team won (for a change - usually on a Monday morning I enquire, and usually they've lost...), plus I understood the rules better this time around so that made it much more entertaining!

Sunday 7th:
I played badminton in the morning (i.e. was run ragged playing with three much more experienced players than myself), and at midday was collected by one of my pupils, her mum and her little brother, to have lunch together. I really enjoyed talking to Morgane outside of a school context, and talking to her mum about her time as an au pair in Surbiton, and just chatting in general about a whole range of things. We had nibbles to start with (doritos with a home-made dip - which was really good but I couldn't work out what's in it - and melted gruyere wafers and popcorn) before going to the table and having white asparagus. This is a regional speciality and the mother gave me quite a reasonable helping. I didn't like it, but managed to eat all but one spear. They didn't seem to mind too much. This was followed by pizza - much more successful i.e. delish. Followed by a cheese course (baguette and goats' cheese - another regional speciality). Followed by a heavenly chocolate torte. It was so rich and creamy and chocolately that - Warning: sit down - I refused a second helping. At one point during the pudding, I mentioned that I would like to have a go at making macaroons, one day. Before I know it, a plate of chocolate macaroons (which they just happened to have) has been set down before me. I could only manage one. I know, I'm ashamed at myself, too.
I had to ask to go home so that I could have a nap...

I awoke, tousle-haired and with a crinkly face from my pillow. I heard that my housemate has returned from a few days in Paris. I considered going and saying hello to him. I decided in the affirmative. And it was an excellent decision. Upon going and saying hello to him, he mentioned that he was going to go and get a takeaway pizza. I said I was still full from lunch, but that I would keep him company. In short, I ended up with two hours of conversation practise as we walked to the pizza place, ordered our pizzas, waited, walked home, and ate them. The pizzas were buy one, get one free (un acheté, un offert). Kyann refused to let me pay for half of the total cost. This is because 1. boys pay for girls in France and 2. paying for someone's meal is considered a real pleasure, here. I'm not exaggerating. We talked about all manner of things, and he remarked that I don't talk with an English accent, rather with a melody. #french charm

Monday 8th:
Three hours of final lessons at the collège starting at 9am. With each group, I did the same thing: a 'culture and grammar' quiz. They all left in the same way that they leave at the end of every lesson with me, except that I knew that this time there wouldn't be another lesson. I have lukewarm feelings about the first class, I was glad to be shot of the third class, but was sad to see the second class leave. And clearly they were the only class fussed about the fact that I was leaving; they gave me a T-shirt on which they had written all their names and little messages in marker pen. It was a great idea (Manuella's idea) and I was really touched by the gesture.
Lunch at the collège was uneventful except for a member of staff who started crying opposite me #awks
Then I went home for a few hours before starting the half hour walk to the lycée for the third-to-last time. I stopped off at the collège to put boxes of chocolate in the English teachers' pigeon holes, hoping to be all ninja and not get spotted. I put the last box in Christine's pigeon hole, turned around, and there she was. Drat. I told her she might as well go ahead and see what was inside (now that she'd ruined my surprise...), and when she was reading the note I'd attached she seemed genuinely touched by the fact I'd even bothered. Made me feel all warm and snuggly inside. At the lycée, I watched 'She's the Man' for an hour with the Terminale girls (so glad I've finally found some French students who can understand and appreciate the jokes...) and ate chocolate chip madeleines.

Tuesday 9th:
At 9.30am I had a meeting with my good friend the deputy head to get some help for my final year abroad essay (a commercial overview of the lycée), before watching over a class's exam for someone. At least a quarter of the students slept at some point during the hour allotted for the exam. At midday, the English department of the lycée met up at La Scala (an Italian restaurant chain) for lunch to celebrate / solemnly commemorate (take your pick) my imminent departure. I had pasta (it could have been better) followed by a fruit crumble and ice cream washed down by a rather nice rosé. And the teachers presented me with the most amazing present I could have hoped to receive. I was expecting nothing (not least because I've barely seen most of them since I run my own lessons), but out of sheer loveliness they had bought me a RACLETTE MACHINE. This is possibly my favourite French meal, and I had mentioned to Virginie when we had raclette at her house that I was thinking of buying a raclette machine, but that I was worried about not being able to find real raclette cheese in England. PLUS, I have since checked online and Waitrose sell it!! My raclette cheese source is secured!! Mission accomplished, Sunray. Knew I could count on Waitrose. One of the teachers, Andrew, had also bought me a French dictionary (not English-French, just French - which is what I had been lacking) which contains 'Argot', which is French slang. I'll be hanging with the best of my French homies before I know it. And, of course, there was a lovely card from all of them. But I'm not telling you what they wrote as 1. it's none of your business and 2. you wouldn't believe me if I told you how much they have simply adored my presence in their midst. So there.

And I played badminton in the evening. Also, I got my Erasmus forms signed off - win!

Wednesday 10th:
Today, I braved an unknown experience, c'est-a-dire I had a haircut. Yes, I have had a hair cut before but this time it was in French and there was a possibility of miscommunication resulting in dramatic hairloss / baldness. Don't worry, nothing dramatic happened; they didn't end up shaving half of it off and I being obliged to make the best of a bad situation and mould the remains into a beret shape. All went smoothly and I now have shoulder length, layered hair. Lovely. My hair-cutting motivations were 1. in anticipation of the fact that it will be hot in Provence (whether the weather likes it or not) and 2. despite my choice of a fancy hairdressers, it was still half of the price of my fancy hairdressers back in England.

I then did an hour and a half of French to English translation as a favour to someone at the MAJO, before cleaning the kitchen floor (only because I was asked to - don't worry, France hasn't changed my laziness when it comes to cleaning) and then setting off for my English lesson with the three year olds. This was our last lesson before I shall be spending a week with the family in St Tropez in August!

Zumba in the evening was sadly cancelled, but I spent the 45 minutes chatting to someone, so what I didn't burn in calories, I made up for with speaking practice.

Thursday 11th:
I had a lesson at 11am where we did noughts and crosses but with British culture and grammar questions which was actually quite successful and I regret not having found the game sooner. Tant pis. This was immediately followed by lunch at the collège where the choice was steak or steak (vegetarians, beware mass French catering) and then a couple of hours of reading before I had my final ever collège lesson (I repeated the games). My 4pm class was cancelled because the kids had been given an hour off.

After supper at the MAJO canteen, I played badminton.

Friday 12th:
Today was an early start. I was up at 7am to be at the lycée for 8am where I ran a lesson based on an article about the recent census results in relation to multiculturalism in Britain. The kids were still half asleep and hardly enthusiastic, but I'm sure some of them learnt something, and certain students even got quite into the debate/role play I had created (i.e one of you is a white unemployed person, one of you is a Polish toilet cleaner etc).
9am was spent proof-reading essays with three BTS students. Not the way I would have planned to spend my final ever hour 'teaching', but no doubt it was useful for them.
At the sounding of the bell, I made for the secretary's office. I handed in my keys, I thanked the Proviseur (headteacher) for everything and walked out of the lycée for what might well be the last ever time.
I rushed back to the house to get my laundry out of the machine and because I'd left my phone behind. I had a voicemail from Leyli (a girl from church) asking if I had a moment to come for tea and cake before I left and I happily accepted.
First of all, however, it was time for lunch at the collège canteen with the English teachers to say goodbye. The food wasn't anything special, but the company was excellent. I had a lovely time chatting with Catherine, Caroline, Valerie, Angelique, Francoise and Bruno (only chap!), comparing Britain and France but discussing other stuff to. They gave me a card, a book (about teaching written by a teacher) and some Nina Ricci perfume. They all told me that they had loved working with me and that if I was ever in the Centre Region then I was forbidden to leave without popping in for dinner or at least to say hello (which would probably lead to a four course supper, knowing France...). The reference my responsable and the deputy headteacher wrote for me was lovely, and they repeated several times that they meant every word of it and how much they had valued me as a colleague. The teachers here have a real community spirit; when the canteen workers were striking, the teachers joined them in solidarity. It has felt and does feel really special to be a part of that team of people.
Next stop was Leyli's for some tea and cake. After about an hour and a half, I got a text from Carine telling me she had finished at the lycée and was ready to drive me to Blois (where I would be spending the night) on her way home for the weekend.
Blois welcomed me in the form of my American biffle Erin, and a lush French dinner: asparagus soup, followed by 'farmer's pork' in a rich red wine sauce, followed by fruit crumble. And all for just under €20. Boom. We spent the evening watching the Hunchback of Notre Dame in French, joined by Harriet and Amy. None of us could quite believe that our year abroad experience was over. I no longer have a reason to be in France, specifically. I have lost my role contributing to the society I am living in.

Saturday morning I left very early on a train for Provence, but that is a subject for another blog post, so you'll have to wait. I will finish this post by saying I have had an incredible Year Abroad. I have thoroughly enjoyed teaching, despite all my complaints, and believe I have contributed to the education of those children. I have a grown as a person, become more critical of my environment and what I consider acceptable and worthy, and showed myself what I am made of. What more could one wish for in a Year Abroad?