Over the past few days, there have been a number of things that I’ve wanted to write about, but just haven’t seemed to have enough focus or alone time to do so until today. So my apologies in advance if this post ends up being a little disjointed!
First major point: Thanksgiving! Since none of us will be in the States for this most American of American holidays, the other English assistants and I organized a giant Thanksgiving dinner for this past Saturday afternoon/evening chez moi. What started out as a simple guest list of only assistants soon morphed into a monstrous list of 21 in order to accommodate our surprisingly large make-shift French “family.” Seeing the finalized list made me both extremely happy and rather stressed out all at once. It was amazing to realize how many wonderful people I’ve already met in such a short amount of time, but the thought of playing host for such a large group also caused me to panic a bit. I was by no means putting this dinner on by myself, but since it was happening at my house I felt greatly responsible for how things went. I’m a generally anxious person, and my anxiety definitely took over for good chunk of the afternoon.
As a child of Polish decent, my main concern was that there wasn’t going to be enough to feed everyone. I come from a family where food is of utmost importance, always delicious and above all else, abundant. If there isn’t enough for at least 3 servings per person, there is a problem. Everyone was bringing a dish to share, but would it be enough with the extended guest list?! Would all 21 stomachs be filled?! How was everything going to be cooked in our tiny little toaster oven?!? Did we remember to cover all of the classic Thanksgiving dishes?!?!?
Turns out, my fears were completely unwarranted. With a 15lb turkey, three pots of mashed potatoes, two giant casserole dishes of stuffing, plenty of butternut squash, green beans, German potato salad, French onion soup, baguettes, cranberry jello, green salad, twelve bottles of wine, and three pies (apple crumble, pecan, and pumpkin), there was more than enough to go around. So much, in fact, that we had enough leftovers for everyone to come over for a SECOND ROUND on Sunday afternoon! We just left the tables as they were, set out new plates, and let everyone dig in. Preeeeetty ridiculous.
The other point of stress was due to a miscommunication of timing and an abundance of tardiness, à la française. I missed the original planning session amongst assistants last week, so my main source of information about the plans was a mostly-legible picture posted on facebook. The only time mentioned in the picture of the planning sheet was 16h (aka 4pm), and I unfortunately made the assumption that was meal time. I then spread the word to some others not involved in the planning that we would be eating around 4, when in reality, the plan was to merely get together at 4 and eat much later around 7 or so. This led to everyone arriving at all sorts of different times, food being cooked and served little by little, and a minor sense of chaos between the first arrival at 3:45 and the last around 6:30. A little hectic, but mostly hilarious in the end.
After we managed to round everyone up and get everything on the table, things finally settled down. Looking up and down the ridiculously long table at a room full of happy faces washed away all of my stress and anxiety, and made the whole crazy day worthwhile. The joy and warmth in the room was overwhelming, and I felt incredibly thankful for everyone in my life and this new home away from home.
After stuffing myself to the brim, I sat at the table listening to Christmas music and feeling a little dazed. As my thoughts turned to family, friends, and Thanksgiving at home, my happiness started to lose it’s glow. I’ve been missing people and things about home since the day I left, but it really seemed to hit me hardest on Saturday. Two months away is barely a challenge, but the thought of not being able to spend the holidays at home is a tougher pill to swallow. In my 22 years, I have yet to spend a single Thanksgiving or Christmas without my family, and it’s strange to think that this will be the first. I know that I’ll be home before I know it, missing all people and things French, but I still can’t help but feel sad about the upcoming holiday season. Love and miss you all much!
That’s one of the awful, yet beautiful things about living internationally – no matter where you are, there is always someone you miss. I’m thankful for that. Even if it’s hard sometimes, it’s comforting to know that there are so many great people in my life, even if we aren’t always in the same place.
My next point on a somewhat related note: My failed attempt to teach French high school students about Thanksgiving. First of all, my kids this week were suuuuuuuuuuuuper unmotivated to learn about one of the best holidays! I was like, listen, it is a holiday where all you do is eat and hang out with your fam – what’s not to love?!? I guess it would be pretty hard to understand if you’ve never experienced it, but they could at least show a little more interest!
When I asked what they already knew about Thanksgiving, their knowledge and understanding of Thanksgiving was limited to, “You eat turkey!” and, “I see Thanksgiving on Gossip Girl,” so they should’ve been ready to learn, right? Guess not. My first class was a particularly frustrating group of 15 girls. They wouldn’t stop talking to each other, and I had my first ever case of teacher outrage. I stopped talking about mashed potatoes, raised my voice, and told the girls “If you’re not talking to ME, don’t talk AT ALL!” It was like a strange out of body experience. I was like, uh, whoa, did I really just do that? Yeah. I did. Sooooooooo weird, but I really didn’t know what else to do that the time. It’s incredibly difficult to be in this weird middle ground between student and teacher, riding on a fine line between wanting both friendship and respect from the students. Some of the groups are SO wonderful and I feel at ease talking with them, but I’m still working on finding the balance with some of the others.
After going over all of the Thanksgiving basics of history, food, and traditions, I tried to get everyone to tell me something they were thankful for. This proved to be an unexpected challenge. They all looked at me with terrified eyes like I was asking them to recite the U.S. constitution or give me their left kidney. Apparently some of them are ungrateful little brats, because the most common response was, “Nossing?” [aka Nothing]. Either that or I failed at explaining what thankful meant. My favorite response from all of my classes by far was, “I thankful weed.” Real winner. That kid is going places.
Final point to be made in this post: Even though the world population has exceeded 7 billion people, the world is still small. Seriously. Yesterday, after my second class, a girl came up to talk to me with some crazy news…
Student: “You come from St. Paul, right?”
Me: “Yeah! My family lives in a suburb of St. Paul!”
Student: “Do you know North St. Paul?”
Me: “YES! That’s where I went to high school!”
Student: “You mean like, with the North High Polars, and the big snowman?”
Me: “Uh… Yes?!? How do you know that?!?”
Student: “My friend is spending a year in the United States, and she is going to school there!”
I was FREAAAAAAKING out after she told me this! Of all the places in the vastness of the U.S., this girl from little ol’ Saint-Brieuc, France ended up not only in Minnesota, but in MY HIGH SCHOOL!!!!!!! Like, what are the odds?!?? It is still blowing my mind. This is not like someone from Paris and someone from New York switching places. SAINT-BRIEUC AND NORTH SAINT PAUL. What the HEEEEEECK?!
I’ll leave you with that mind-boggling story to linger until next time. Bisous mes amis! xoxoxo
From St. Olaf to Saint-Brieuc 