WHEN DREAM BECOMES REALITY
“So… you’ve graduated! What are your plans now?” said every. single. solitary. person I’ve come across for the past 8 months.
“Oh, I’m moving to France to be an English teaching assistant,” I tried to reply nonchalantly over and over and over and over and over and over and over— get the picture? haha.
Well friends, the time has come. And I have to say… there’s a weird sensation that comes along with finally executing what you’ve been repeating (almost verbatim) for months.
The response to the question, “So is housing provided?” is no longer just an answer, but an action (and a funny one at that— I’ll write about that soon). “Do you know anyone there?” is no longer answered by a shrug of the shoulders and a shake of the head nope, but is now a feeling that I must endure as days go by. W O W. Does this sound like I’m hating it? BECAUSE I’M NOT!!!
Let me give ya the deets. I’m living in a small town called Saint-Dizier. There are about 25,000 inhabitants, which actually makes it the largest of the small towns. I’ve heard of other assistants in towns with a mere 2,000, so I’m not complaining. It sits somewhere in the middle of the Champagne region of France. You might be picturing my landscape as a beautiful vineyard of champagne grape vineyards… and my friend you would be… W R O N G! Haha… the grounds surrounding my town are used to grow the beet root to add the sweetness into the Champagne (similar to sugar cane but a lot cheaper). Because if you don’t know anything about Champagne— which prior to me coming here I didn’t know much beyond the André I would pour into a big gulp with OJ before a noon game at USC— all of the ingredients must be made in the champagne region of France or the bottle cannot be labeled as “Champagne.” So that André I was chugging? Yeah that’s just brut sparkling wine… kind of a let down, no? And I’m not saying the countryside landscapes aren’t still impressive as you drive into town, it’s just not vineyards OK?
Anyway, the town has an adorable little center with a square promenade and shops lining the streets connected to it. My apartment is about 2 miles from the center, so I can get there by bike or bus or even walk if I’m feeling particularly sporty. The nice thing is I have grocery stores about a 10 minute walk from my place, and I can eat in my school’s cafeteria for 3 euros (kind of a steal).
As for work, I haven’t really started yet. My time is split: three hours in elementary school, four hours in middle school, and five hours in high school. I think the change up between levels will be nice to keep things fresh, but it also means I have to prepare more lesson plans for each level… but that’s OK. On the first day of class with the high schoolers, I introduced myself and how I was from Philadelphia. I showed them a powerpoint with different pictures of what we were known for. They winced at the picture of a Philly cheesesteak (rude lol), they looked puzzled at the picture of the Declaration of Independence (that one took some explaining), but they all laughed and smiled at the picture of Rocky (apparently that’s a popular one here too lol).
The transition has been pretty seamless thanks to my main teacher Chantal. She has truly been a blessing in this experience. She has set me up with everything I need: bank account, train pass, etc. etc. I’ve had dinner with her and her daughter at her house, and she’s done my laundry. She introduced me to her boyfriend in Reims (the largest city near Saint-Dizier), and I have a tutoring/babysitting gig with his son every week now. He has been extremely gracious as well. I’m even staying in his flat in Paris this Friday before heading off to London to see my cousin Arielle! So Chantal? Seriously a saint!!! She said, “you’ll just be like my daughter this year… I promise you’ll cry when you leave.”
And if things keep going the way they are… I think she’s right!
Town Square in Saint Dizier, France.