Monday, 15 November 2010

I love France and everything it does and says is completely right..I am a good Epsilon.Honest.

I think I should give myself a thousand lines writing the above.

Hey ho! I'm in trouble at work again. I put an interesting article on the staff room wall. It was an interview with Peter Gumbel, Europe editor for Fortune magazine and a lecturer who has written a book in French about his views on the French eduction system; "They Shoot Schoolchildren, Don't They? It is critical of how they mark children and says it has a detrimental effect on their learning. This is countered by Guillame Delmas, the national secretary of union Snes. As we are all in the education industry and in a place where teacher come from different disciplines of teaching - I thought it was an article that could spark some interesting debate.
It did spark something - it wasn't debate- it was total hatred of any outsider daring to criticise France in any possible way. It was taken as a personal attack by a particular teacher and thus I was attacked. I was then summoned to attend a meeting with The Delegation ( of course I didn't attend the Kangaroo court).
BBC Radio 7 are serialising Brave New World. I feel like the character of Savage, in which I need to choose between conformity and death to survive my working environment.

Thursday, 11 November 2010

The battle lines are drawn when some people think they are born to RULE.

It is Armistice Day. So what dies an ex-pat like me do on a day like this. Well, in my case- marking...or spend the day on the net face booking and looking up my latest health prob. I have an ability to research the hell out of my physical worries. My latest is a "am I doing the right thing with the concoction of drugs my endocrinologist have prescribed me" - when in fact I should be doing my French course homework and knowing exactly when to use leur and Les and Y and en.

I have also had a "Face book moment." A sixth form college friend found me and requested friendship. I accepted and read her message in which she stated : You're not going to like this but I have been helping Zac Goldsmith-( a stinking rich young man- win a parliamentary seat. ) with his election campaign. Ew! Just how rabid Tory is she/he?

I already knew that he was strong on the environmental issue but I also needed to know what his other political views were before I proceeded further with our Facebook "friendship".

Before I make a judgement, I decided to read ZG's home page. He's fairly palatable- yet I know how these privileged people "don't' think. They have an averagely narrow width of life experience.
They have travelled a lot and so feel they know how the world works. They have far more interest in the poor in Africa but actually little interest in the poor around the corner. (Who does? But then I'm not arrogant enough to think I should be running the show.) Zac clearly doesn't need to work for the next 20 generations. He has so much wealth so he is filling his time with politics. I would prefer that people like him stick to philanthropy. I also sneakingly think my old " friend" who helped him with his campaign this year is also scrabbling around for something to do.

I note the photos on her page showed her and family in the USA for a hol and not Frinton on Sea. Hmm to no environmental contradiction there then unless of course, they paddled there in a coracle.

In the meantime the UK is kicking off against the Tories and there are some lovely juicy anti-Tory cuts links to be pasted and shared on ones own page. I did so.

Two days later- I get an indignant private message " So whatever happened to friendship? Did you leave that behind at Stratford?" I return this message telling her that I was checking out ZG's policies etc and the next moment it appears I have been blocked by her. She has also blocked another old "friend" who puts anti-tory links on her own page too.

I am quite amazed that she should get so upset. Are we supposed to be Tory's aswell or simply try not outspoken against their policies and cuts to gain her friendship? I feel a bit hurt, but then how far was this friendship really going to develop. Visiting her would quickly make us both feel awkward.

Wednesday, 26 May 2010

Heartbreak in Deptarment 69.

"I've got bad new for you,"my friend said as we whizzed along in the evening heat from Toulon station. I braced myself.
"Kuti is dead."
Kuti is my ex boyfriend's lovely dog; obedient, gentle , never barked.
That wasn't so bad. I breathed out.
"And he's got a new girlfriend - he's in love."
I am silent while, un-beknownst to my friend, I am checking for emotional stab wound damage. It's not stabbing too bad. Hmm, I'll take a rain check on that later. Right now i'm holding my face together. I know my friend will not be sympathetic. He thought I should have given up on and gotten over the man years ago- and almost sees me as a battered " if the fucker wasn't a committment-phobe" wife always going back for more.

He has a point. He just doesn't realise that I just have a very slow emotional metabolism. It is hypothyroidly slow. I am Taurean for Christ's sake. I love long and hard and loyally in the face of adversity. I display tenacity and nobility in this. I am a nob. I am not made for the modern world.

Jazz Tap in Lyon

Just went to a Jazz Tap class held at the Sylvie Kay Dance Academy on rue Frankin in the 2nd. Sylvie and her mum Alice at both amazing sexy stylish groovy jazz tappers.'Fit'! in both senses of the both.

I joined in the debutante class, although everyone else had begun in Sept. I was fortunate that they let me come along for the class to try - something one should know about France is that courses don't really do 'drop-in' classes. The 'inscription' ( when you sign up) happens ONCE in Sept and thats, often it for the whole year. I arrived in September and my head was so busy spinning trying to find somewhere to live that joining a class was not in my radar.

Monday, 24 May 2010

Brits and Emotions

So here I am,back in France, Lyon this time... trying to do what may be impossible. Have a good time living in France. Why so hard?

Where do i begin...

France is a dream in the English mind. It is a holiday dream, or a dream of the childhood holidays that you had and were most happy. I know the latter is certainly true in my family, where we all have tried to have a stab at living in France on some level as an adult. Other people may come to it via a different route; a lover is a common route and I've done that one too.

As an English woman I realise that we are a rare breed - " funny". English/Irish/Scots/Welsh... we do humour. It's part 0f us. It doesn't make us more sexually attractive even in our own culture but we do it anyway. Because we like to laugh.

The French don't appear to do 'banter'. They are a much more formal civilisation and would check the temperature of the situation between strangers ... the Brits use 'banter' with strangers to break the ice of formality. The good side of this is that it keeps the day to day 'peppy'. Other nations can perceive us as rude. I've even read Sunday supp articles on why the Brits are so humorous about everything and the theory has been because as a nation, we do it to avoid emotions that we cant handle or are uncomfortable with.


I was stuck on a Euro star train for hours last Xmas. In the carriage were Brits, a South African, French, Spanish. Only the Brits made gallows humour jokes about the continuing ridiculous of the situation. We were not avoiding our emotions of frustration and anger. We knew that there was nothing we could do and we needed to keep our spirits up and ourselves mentally occupied i this situation.No other culture said a word - they did not connect with each other and try to offer each other any comfort or solace. I think we Brits used humour because we knew full well that there was absolutely nothing to laugh about. We didn't feel uncomfortable with out emotions. There was nothing to laught about so to be perverse we laugh.

Tuesday, 23 March 2010

onwards... left that saaf london hell hole and now am in bureaucratic france with horrible arrogant french kids... so not cut out for this job...

Sunday, 14 February 2010

So Im back. It s time to update the blog and share my latest trials and tribulations in Edu-land, and this time im doing it ' a la Francaise!'

So i finally got sprung from the Saarf London school and landed a nice little number in a private school in Lyon, France.

Six months in and i'm beginning to focus from the complete whirl that my life has been. There are some positives.... i speak a bit better French and I have a lovely flat, but its hasnt been easy getting this far.