Shirley-No-Valentine

I handed in my notice on my job 2 months ago and my flat 3 months ago. I have packed and sent off the majority of my belongings and now it is simply time to take stuff to the dump and clean the place and get my deposit back.

I leave with mixed feelings. Did I try hard enough to make friends/practise the language/internet date...?
Was it an impossible task... to come here alone at my age and think i could create a life in less than ten years?

France is a couples culture and a family culture. If you dont have one or both of those- you are lost. An Anglo-saxon 'mates' culture wont do. Waif and stray "mates" are not invited to family gatherings like they are in the UK.

So you need to get yourself in a relationship.. its the key to the door. Without that- nothing! I realise that last time I spent time her - I had a boyfriend. So i met people- we went to his Breton family's home and I felt part of something.

Outside the mountain... its cold and lonely and I hear the distant music somewhere.

I dont regret taking the chance- but I return home disappointed.

What did I achieve in two years.?

I directed two full scale musical prouctions.
I appeared in a play.
I made major improvements to my language skills.
I made a French tax return.
I learnt how to deliver IGCSE Drama Solo!
I made a couple of friends.

Not too bad in terms of achievement. But by God it's been a lonely path. It has made me feel too close to the main character in Anita Brookner's "Look at me". I never wanted to be her. I feared it -even in my 20's, as I feared being Gloria in "They Shoot Horses Dont They" when I was 10.


I toy with returning. Here or somehwere else in France. I'm not sure. I am reluctant to give up on my investment- which is getting much better at French and undersanding better how it all works here.

Have I ever returned anywhere apart from back to London? It's the latter that tells me that I am not just a gyspy.


And finally, am I better off living in a socialist country? Hell yes. Returning to the UK is a return to hell.

Lyon is a secret. You know there is a party somewhere, you can hear distant music but you cant find the source.

Living here is like being the crippled child who is left out side the mountain when the pied piper has whistled all the other children away.

Lyon is a like a beautiful woman who has no conversation.

Speaking french with the french

1. If you ask a French person to speak more slowly and articulate- they would rather switch to talking to you in English.

2. They will interrupt your flow and correct you constantly over the smallest mistake (without solicitation) no matter how well you are doing. Correcting your grammar is more important to them than understanding the essence of what you are trying to communicate.

3. I used to think it was a power trip but after having worked in the French system, I surmise that the reason for this is that as the French style of educating is punitive and they “mark negatively” You start out with 20 marks and each mistake loses ½ point. US/UK style is all about adding points.

How many times has a French person who can communicate their subject extremely well insist on saying how bad their English is? This leads me to believe that they have learnt to be hard on others in the same way that they are hard on themselves.

4. As a language educator I know that- something has to be used, analysed and exercised around 14 times before it can mentally stick. On-the-hop corrections are rarely remembered the following morning. Also not everyone is an auditory learner.

I'm such a loser.

I missed the bus to go Ski-ing. I am gutted.


Two trips to the ski hire shop in one day to ensure the best ski boot fit. Running around buying special insoles to help with that. My sandwiches made , my ipod charged, tissues and vaseline in my ski jacket pocket, camera,...

I set the alarm for 5,30 am to get the bus at 6.40pm. I woke three times in the night and then thought, in what seemed like the early hours.. I'll just check my alarm again. 6.55am. On no.

What happenened?...Last thing last night... I dropped my phone and it came apart. I had to reset all the settings. I had mistakenly set it for 12 hours later.

I'm now so angry at myself, I've been punishing myself with cleaning and filing since 7 am. I must face everyone who I told I was going... I feel such a fool.

My karma drives me nuts.

When in Rome....

Im off ski-ing on Sunday- just for the day. Mayeb I'll meet all the Lyonnais who are clearly not here at the weekends. It's a ghost town here in winter

I’m terrified as it's been six years since I’ve been and I'm so unfit. Last time was pretty difficult and now six years and two stone further on…..However, I want to conquer my fear of the slopes and one of the advantages of going alone is that you don’t have to keep up with anyone. I can take it very slowly on the baby runs. I think taking it slowly on the green runs was probably the last time I actually ever really enjoyed ski-ing. I need to decide if I finally actually really hate it or not. I bought a whole ski outfit for 30 euros in a charity shop so I've not much to lose and i'm going with a company that do day trips from Lyon. (The other participants will be about 17 and snowboarders) Any way---- as long as I don’t come home in an ambulance…

Nothing happening on the man front. Wonder if it ever happen again. Pissed off that my time is up at 46 but I guess one has to accept it at some point. It is prob never easy. Oh why can't I force myself to go out with ugly balding grey men? Life might be a lot easier. My tits are beginning to look susupiciously like my Nans. If I ever feeel like im missing her- I need only to take my bra off, get my grey thermal vest on and watch a bit of telly.

.

Light at the end of the tunnel

Life finally feels like it is shifting a tiny imperceptible bit. Last night I had a play read through with an English Theatre company here and we are planning on putting on a few short pieces in a pub in Lyon. I'm excited as it feels I have been stuck in boring old teacher mode for ages. I was starting to wonder if in fact I would never be anything else, and my days of artistry were over.

This summer, as musician "friend" of mine.. said:" So you decided to give u performing then?" I was gutted but pride made me snap back; " No, I'm just exploring a different project which is living in France at the moment. I will perform again." He looked sulky. His comment was designed to sting. Ding Ding Round One-- to me.

Also my incredibly competitive sister, who has been having some marvellous personal success this year... smirked triumphantly: ' oh, you seems to have ..... disappeared'.

Aside from them being arseholes... it just shows you in reality how much teaching sucks you into its world. My life at the moment is bearable because I am working part-time and it is less demanding of me as a teacher in some ways than the UK system- which just wants blood.
Now I can do a tap class and a French class in the evening and even think about being involved a small bit of theatre. I don't become obsessed with some kid's attitude/performance all day and evening and have bugger all else to talk about.

Oooh, there is light at the end of the tunnel.