I’ve Always Wanted To Say That…

Tags

Corona, Covid, France, French, fun, funny, Humor, Learning, school

I said something today that I never thought I ever would. Something that you may have read in books, or heard characters say in films and TV shows. It’s such a tricky sentence to say, because the context has to be just right, or you might just find yourself in trouble.

Well I managed to say it.

I even managed to say it in French too.

I work at a local school and – due to Covid 19 – we’ve had a lot of people that work in local government departments and businesses working with us, due to their workplaces being closed down for health reasons.

I recognised one of these ‘redeployees’ today while I was in the playground. She was stood off to one side watching the kids play, all wrapped up against the cold in her thick coat and scarf (and obligatory mask). Her name’s Stephanie, a lovely lady in her fifties who works locally and who myself and my kids have got to know quite well as we see her frequently – under normal circumstances anyway.

I headed over to her, weaving through masses of running kids as I did so, nodded my head at her and said: ‘Hello Stephanie, I didn’t recognise you with your clothes on’.

Stephanie – a lifeguard at our local swimming pool – saw the funny side and, thankfully, laughed at this.

I say thankfully because Stephanie also teaches self-defence and judo.

Trying To Explain The Outback To French Kids…

Tags

Australia, Culture, English, France, French, fun, funny, Humor, Learning, Outback, school, Teaching

Today with the aid of a cartoon I tried to explain what The Outback was to the French kids in my English class.

Me (In English and French): ‘So all the people mostly live around the edges of Australia’

Them: ‘D’accord’

Me (In English and French): ‘They live around the edges because the centre – The Outback – is very, very hot’

Them: ‘D’accord’

Me (In English and French):’ As you can see on the cartoon, Velma, Daphne and Fred are wearing jumpers and thick clothing, that’s not realistic, you couldn’t do that in real life there as it’s too hot’

Them: ‘D’accord’

Me (in English and French): ‘You’re just saying ‘d’accord’ so I’ll stop talking to you and let you finish watching the film, aren’t you?’

Them: ‘D’accord’

French Kids Say The Funniest Things…

Tags

Corona Virus, Culture, English, France, French, funny, Humor, kids, Language, Learning, school, Teaching

I teach English at a local school. I’ve mentioned it before, in fact it was in my last post :-).

The kids say some priceless things to me.

Here’s a selection from this week.

French kid #1: (in French) ‘Why don’t you speak English to us all the time?’

Me: (In English) ‘If I spoke English to you all the time would you understand me?’

French kid #1: (In French) ‘What?’

French kid #2 (After 45 minutes spent colouring by numbers in English while watching a cartoon in English and having questions asked by me – in English): ‘When are we going to start the English?’

French kid #3: ‘You speak French with an English accent’

Me: ‘Because I’m English’

French kid #3: ‘You’re English?’

Me: ‘Yes’

French kid #3: ‘Oh, I thought you were from Paris’

School Will Never Be The Same Again Thanks To Corona…

Tags

Corona, Corona Virus, Covid 19, education, France, French, kids, Language, Learning, Teaching

I’m back at school now, teaching the kids – not MY kids, although they are there, I mean the kids in general. This return has been a long time coming, thanks to that ever-present virus, and to be honest with you I wasn’t sure if I’d be going back at all.

Just to recap/fill you in – I’m an assistant at my local school and I teach the kids English – quelle surprise – teaching is maybe a bit grand as it’s more of a mixture between entertaining and teaching, but I do my best and we all usually have a laugh. I take the kids on before and after their dinner hour, the bigger kids first then the the little ones. So I get load of distracted, hungry big kids and then a load of full, lethargic little kids.

It’s great.

Most of the time.

I’m up against it though in terms of popularity, as my fellow ‘animateurs’ – as we are called here – are all French and so offer a variety of exciting activities liked painting Pokemon, creating little purses, crafting cuddly donkeys and one activity that simply involves going in the ‘room of fun’. So put that up against ‘English class’ and it’s not really a surprise that I’m usually the last girl at the dance. The other animateurs have queues for their activities, me? I have to get the security ladies to make them come along.

That only applies to the bigger kids though – the little kids are more than happy to come along and find my accent fascinating. Strange how kids can change in a year from all happy, eager smiles to grumpy and ‘cool’. Too cool for English anyway.

So yes I’m back but it’s a very different landscape to the one I was forced to leave due to being furloughed following the Corona outbreak (part one?). Now all the kids are regimented, separated into classes, kept apart and generally monitored to ensure they don’t interact with other groups too much.

Like a kind of health-conscious segregation.

It’s masks on all the time for me as well, which makes it so much easier for the kids to understand me.

Not.

There also seems to be a lot less kids in general, I don’t know if they are hiding away or if some parents have simply opted, in the current ‘climate of fear’ to go the home-schooling route. I used to be that you would have to fight your way across the school playground, fighting through the crowds with all the speed of a salmon swimming upstream, dodging running kids, footballs, hats, you name it. Now you can just stroll right through them, like their fun-factor has been drained away.

Children that did not keep up with their studies during this current crisis have suffered the worst though. There was the confinement period, which was followed by a brief return to school, which was then followed by the eight week holidays. Some parents have not helped their children maintain their education levels, and never returned – albeit briefly – when they could. As a result of this some children are having to repeat the year, or have even been relegated into lower-level classes. It’s not great to see – potential like that, squandered.

Still, my kids are there too and it’s really great to be able to see them in this environment. I often arrive early and so get the privilege of being able to watch my children play with their friends, unaware that I am watching them – the office has mirrored doors and windows. I look at it as a kind of aquarium, just one for kids.

They can be my bridge for the other children too, when a concept is too difficult for me to explain, or I simply don’t know the words, bilingual kids come in very handy, especially when they are your own. Just don’t rely on them in crucial situations like at the bank or when asking directions as they have a tendency to shut down in times of real need.

So yes, I’m back, for how long I don’t know, and I’m not saying that as a reflection of my abilities, more of the ever present threat Covid 19 poses. The landscape at school has changed, but whether these measures will be sufficient? Time will tell….

The Honesty Of Kids…

Tags

children, English, French, fun, funny, Humor, kids, languages, school, Teaching

 

Teaching English today.

Little girl looks at me quizzically.

‘You talk English?’ she says, sat in my English class, blinking her eyes in confusion.

‘Yes, because I am English’ I reply.

‘But you talk French too’ she continues (blink, blink).

‘Yes, but I speak better English than I do French’ I counter.

(Blink, blink) ‘But you speak French well’ she says, making my day.

‘Thanks, I try my best’ I reply, feeling quite pleased with myself.

‘But not too well’ she adds (blink, blink).

I don’t think there’s anything quite as honest as a 7 year-old child.

Excerpts From The Front Line…

Tags

education, France, French, funny, Humor, Language, Learning, school, Teaching

 

I’ve started teaching* English in my village to a group of French retirees. The lady who usually does it is the town-planner, so she’s often called into meetings, and for this reason my services were offered – not by me, but by one of her students – so I now take on her duties once every three weeks. Tuesday night was my first time in charge, here are a few excerpts from that evening.

 

I asked the group to tell me something they had done that week that they didn’t like. Three people said the same thing:

Denis: ‘I had to make some jam, but I didn’t like it’

Michelle: ‘I made jam, but I didn’t like doing it’

Francoise: ‘I made jam, 50 pots, but I didn’t like it’

Me: ‘Do you sell this jam?’

All: ‘No’

Me: ‘If you don’t like doing it, why don’t you just stop?’

All: ‘But the fruit will go bad’

Me: ‘So give the fruit to the animals, or people’

All: *blank stares*

 

On my teaching methods

‘Can you talk slower’

‘I can’t understand you, can you talk slower’

After saying a lengthy passage of text out loud

‘Can you write that on the board?’ (I do)

‘What is that? Is that a Russian character?’ (I’ve written my ‘h’s with a sloping bridge)

‘You keep dropping your ‘t’s, pronounce your ‘t’s’

‘Has he started talking slower?’

 

On my accent

Francoise: ‘Is he American? Are you American?’

Me: ‘No I’m from Yorkshire’

Francoise (frowning, turning to her friend Martine): ‘Is he American?’

Martine: ‘No, he’s from Yorkshire’

Francoise: ‘Oh yes, like the dogs, Yorkshire Terriers’

 

Apropos of nothing

Christine: ‘We had to get a new ram. It was having too much sex with the other sheep and would have messed up the gene pool. We bought another one’

On being asked what she did with the old one

Christine: ‘We killed it and ate it. Well, not all of it, most of it is in the freezer’

 

That’s just a snippet of the many things that were said that night. I loved doing it. Hopefully they did too. Can’t wait for the next class.

 

*The term teaching is used here in its loosest possible sense

Doing Your Bit To Help Out With The Local School 2. The Museum Visit…

Tags

children, education, Farming, France, French, History, Humor, Humour, kids, Learning, Museums, school

 

I get asked to help the school chaperone the kids on a visit to the museum in a local town. ‘This will be a doddle’ I think ‘Just walking around with the teacher making sure we don’t lose anyone’. I am of course wrong in thinking this.

The day of the visit arrives. It is beautiful, it is sunny.

Let’s all go inside a stuffy building full of agricultural tools then. So we do.

There are another couple of parents there. ‘Oh good’ I think ‘Safety in numbers and all that’. The other parents start taking the kids off in groups. I realise that the teacher is dividing the kids up into groups of seven and eight. The implications of this are hammered home as I see eight children – my son amongst them – being herded my way.

‘Oh well’ I think ‘It won’t be that hard will it? walking round an old museum full of tools’. The teacher then starts giving out quiz sheets to myself and each child.

I look at the sheet. It is full of strange words – which is nothing new for me as all words at the moment are a bit strange (it is French after all) but these are really strange –  as well as room numbers that correspond to the confusing words.

We head off into the first room. There are tools here that I have never seen before, and whose names I do not know in English. Apparently I am supposed to search in this room for the correct implement as listed by its bizarre name on the quiz sheet, and then take one of the letters from that name, and then do this in every room till we have a full set of letters which we will then have to rearrange to form the name of something else.

‘This is going to be a long morning’ I think to myself.

Coupled with this headache-inducing quiz is the fact that children – funnily enough – do not seem all that interested in looking at 200-year-old farming tools, and so have started acting up.

Have you ever shouted at a child in a museum? How about eight children? I have. I would prefer not to have to do it again. I would have preferred to not have had to do it 36 times, but that’s agricultural museums for you – they bring out the worst in kids.

Realising that this quiz is a non-starter for me and my limited grasp of ancient-agricultural-implements-French, I corner the teacher. ‘I don’t get this’ I tell her ‘I’ve never seen these things in England, let alone France – how do you win this game?’. Evidently you win this game by cheating, because she whispers the answer in my ear.

Then she looks at the expression on my face and writes it down on a piece of paper and hands it to me.

The seven kids (one of them has been removed for constantly disrupting the group, not my son by the way, he’s still stuck to me like glue) and I continue on our way, now mysteriously being able to identify each clue in each room with alarming rapidity.

We do it so quickly that we arrive in the reception room on the ground floor of the museum, where we are met by another parent and her seven wards (‘Why did I get eight?’ I think to myself ‘Teacher mustn’t like me’ I answer myself, pondering if this is the first sign of madness). She looks at me, resignation written large on her face, and then pulls out the timetable. We have finished the quiz with plenty of time to spare. In fact looking at the timetable it appears that we have another hour to wait before we have anything else to do.

I look at the 14 kids milling around a room full of glass cases with farming books inside them, thinking this is going to be a long hour. I look at the other parent, inquiring as to how she got down here so quickly. She pulls out a piece of paper, the teacher’s scrawled answer unmistakable.  ‘Oh well’ I think to myself ‘At least I’m not the only one who isn’t au fait with ancient French agricultural tools’.

Doing Your Bit To Help Out With The Local School 1. The Cycling Safety Course

Tags

cycling, education, France, French, fun, funny, Humor, kids, Nursery, Parenting, school, stay-at-home Dad, training

 

I’m trying to integrate into my new community here in la belle France. It’s easier when you’ve got kids as you can talk to the other parents and offer your services at their school. If you don’t have kids and you do that you just seem strange.

 

And when I’m not offering my services my partner is offering my services. Which is why today I found myself escorting a group of four and five-year-olds to the local park, so they could learn about the rules of the road. Except not actually on the road, because that would be madness, no we just set up a few obstacle courses that effectively mimicked things they would need to look out for when they did eventually ‘hit the road’.

 

As an example of what these obstacle courses amounted to I will tell you about the section I was in charge of. I was in charge of the roundabout, or ‘rond point’ as it’s called over here. This meant I had to stand there and make sure they went around it the right way. Which, depending on where you hail from as you read this, may actually be the wrong way for you. It used to be for me, coming from the UK where I went round it the other way. But I’ve adapted and now only occasionally go round it the wrong way. Which is the right way for the UK but the wrong way here. What was I talking about? I’ve forgotten…oh yes, the safety course.

 

So the teachers laid down the rules to the kids before we began, and ensured they knew exactly what they had to do. It boiled down to this:

 

The teachers said: ‘Children, this will help you understand the rules of the road and be better riders. The skills you learn today will set you up for now, and also for later in your life‘.

 

That seems pretty standard and straightforward to me, as it must do to you too. However judging by what I then spent two hours (they asked me to cover two classes, what can I say? I’m stupid) watching I don’t think that’s what the kids heard because…

 

The kids said: ‘This is our chance to get even with the other kids we don’t like! Smash into everybody! Run them off the road! THIS IS NOT SAFETY TRAINING THIS IS A RACE – AND ONE WE ARE GOING TO WIN AT ALL COSTS!!!!’

 

It was like Ben-Hur crossed with Death Race 2000 with a dash of Battle Royale. I felt particularly bad for the kids whose parents had forgotten to bring a bike, and so were relegated to using the school’s tricycles instead. They were slowly squeaking round that park like Danny in ‘The Shining‘. They did not fare well against the rest, and were picked off with ease by the larger predators.

 

My daughter was a keen participant in the ‘race’, I saw her take down two other competitors that weren’t actually competing but were just trying to navigate some bollards. She then discarded her jacket, ostensibly because she was too hot, but I think it was because it made her less efficient, as after that her hit ratio went through the roof. It’s very odd to see such a mad gleam in the eye of someone who is only four-year’s old, and is wearing  a pink Disney’s Frozen safety helmet. I won’t say no next time she asks me for a second story at bedtime, I’ll be too scared to.

 

I got away relatively unscathed in my position at the roundabout. There were only four collisions, and one child who needed to have plasters and cuddles applied. I did have to move out of the way a few times though as some of the kids seemed intent on hurtling into me, as well as their ‘friends’.

 

I’m going on a museum trip next. It’s a museum full of old agricultural implements, you know: scythes and things with points.

 

I need to stop offering my services….

Meeting My Daughter’s New French Teacher…

Tags

Back To School, Family, France, French, funny, Humor, Parenting, Relationships, school, stay-at-home Dad, teachers

 

I go to the wrong door. This is the second time this week I’ve gone to the wrong door. That’s because today is Wednesday and it’s dinner-time. All the other days I’ve collected my daughter from her Maternelle at 4.30pm*. They move them after dinner-time you see.

 

They also change the teachers.

 

So the teacher I have met the other two days this week is not the one I meet today. Today is the day I meet her actual class teacher, not one of the other ‘cool-down’ teachers – the ones that seem to take them when all the hard, morning work is done, and they just have to keep them awake till their parents take them in the afternoon.

 

Or should that be evening? I only as as they keep saying ‘bonsoir’ to me. When does afternoon become evening? I would ask but I don’t know how to.

 

But I digress.

 

So this is the first day I’m meeting my daughter’s new teacher, and also the first day she is meeting me. As I approach the door a pleasant looking middle-aged lady is there to greet me. She looks at me quizzically at first and I peer in the door and pause.

 

She’s probably meeting lots of parents today for the first time, I think to myself. Lots of parents may not be able to pick their kids up at dinner-time, so it may fall to their other half, or grandparent, to collect them. I could trade her in, I think. Maybe get one of the less aggressive (when it comes to food) ones. Or the less violent (when it comes to cuddling me) ones. Or maybe I could get another boy? I’ve always fancied having two boys around the place.

 

My eyes scan the room. So many options.

 

But probably best not to pick one of the Chinese ones.

 

I’d save a fortune on biscuits, smoothies, marbles and psychotherapy-for-cats sessions (oh yes, I do believe that’s in the future). I wouldn’t have so many bruises on my arms, legs, torso, face etc etc. I would be able to eat my food, without someone else constantly monitoring the quantities consumed. Without someone else asking me, why I’m eating more of something? Why I’m having another one? Why am I wearing that top? Why am I having a shower? Why am I going outside? Why are we going in the car?

 

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

 

But it would just be the same, I realise. So maybe it’s better the devil you know?

 

Well, that plus the whole kidnapping another kid, getting arrested etc. etc.

 

So I admit who I am, forever dooming myself to coming to collect this bundle of questioning fun, that eats all my food, makes me buy her marbles, and gives the best – if slightly violent – cuddles.

 

Oh well, if I change my mind there’s always next year’s new teacher….

 

 

*In case you are wondering my partner always, always drops her off in the mornings, and I take my son to his school, just across the road. My daughter is very clingy to her mum in the mornings and my son likes me to chase him to his school. I’m better at running. My partner is better at being clung to.

 

We did try it the other way round once. We call that day ‘The Day Of Tears’. We won’t repeat that.

The Short Happy Life Of Francois The Fisherman…

Tags

education, fun, funny, Humor, Parenting, school, stay-at-home Dad, strange

 

Hello my friends, you may not have heard of me, but my name is Francois, Francois the fisherman. I am very happy today, even happier than when I caught the biggest fish of my life. OK it was made out of straw, and covered in glitter, but it still counts.

 

Why am I so happy you ask? Well because today is the day of the carnival, a celebration for me and all my life works, that takes place every year. I can’t say I recall last year’s though, but then as I am only 8 days old I wouldn’t, would I? I tried asking last year’s famous fisherman what I should do but, try as I might, I can’t find him.

 

Also when I did ask people they ran away screaming ‘Mummy, mummy it’s come to life ahhhh!!’ Except they said that in French of course. Ahem.

 

I look happy don’t I? Pity that I couldn’t have been in front of a more suitable mode of transportation for my photograph, say a boat for instance, as opposed to a 2010 Renault Kangoo. Still, I can’t complain, I’m being taken round the town followed by my wonderful fans. I’d give them a round of applause, but I’ve got no hands.

 

Or feet.

 

It really makes fishing quite a task.

 

But I digress.

 

 

 

Look at my incredible parade of followers, on this great day. I’m being taken through the village of Aubigny Sur Nere, France, and as you can see the kids have really made an effort to impress me. Here you can see they have dressed up as lobsters. I love lobsters.

 

There are also some seagulls too. I don’t know who told them to dress up as seagulls. Yes, yes they are associated with the sea, but as far as I’m concerned they are rats with wings. Rats with wings that steal your chips and take a crap on your shoulder after they’ve stolen your chips.

 

But I won’t let that put a dampener on my day, lord no.

 

 

Another great bunch of youngsters, all dolled-up up to celebrate ME! I think they are dressed as starfish…or maybe squids with stars on them? I’m not 100% on this one.

 

Notice the bell in the possible-starfish’s hand? That’s to let everyone know they are in the presence of greatness – ME! Francois the fisherman!

 

 

Here we have some more of my fans, dressed up so smartly for the occasion, with lots of different elements from the sea on display. Look at the parents however – different story there. So sombre, so dark, why anyone would think they were going to a funeral instead of a carnival, HA HA!

 

 

Notice the packed walkways? Everyone is here to see me, I feel so blessed! What a day to be me, Francois the fisherman! We seem to be heading to the park now, I wonder what other delights they have in store for me? A song from some scantily clad mermaids perhaps…

 

(actually mermaids smell ghastly, and they can’t survive on dry land for more than an hour – 61 minutes + and they explode, trust me, you do not want to clean up mermaid guts).

 

 

Ahh, a fitting end to the carnival, they have made me a throne! OK, so it’s not a very tall one, and it seems to be made of hay, but I will allow it.

 

Not sure about my new followers dress-code though, not very ‘sea-worthy’.

 

 

Now what in blue blazes is that one doing down there? Now hang on a minute…

 

 

OOOh! It’s getting a bit toasty here…anyone got any water? Ooooh it’s getting hot!!! I’ve changed my mind…I don’t want to be (HOT HOT HOT!!) king of the carnival any more…can anyone (OOOOOH HOT HOT HOT!!) hear me? Hello? HELLO????????!!!!