2.12.07

The lights are up. Waves of yellow hang over the walking streets of Castres, signaling the Christmas season merriment. Maybe once or twice a week I go on a night walk. Nowhere in particuar, just to be out at night and see the city. Kids yelling outside McDonalds, a couple enjoying an after dinner stroll, the Domino’s delivery guy on a scooter. I happily talk to my parents for a bit, they don’t know it but they have called during church. I don’t have one here. Tonight I decide that the streets will be my sanctuary, a conversation with the Father the sermon. Reassurance is the message. Almost immediately as I pass the train station, there is a presence. Nothing said, just a calm and I am thankful. Thankful mostly for the people I know, the opportunity to be here; the fact that I am alone. It has taken almost ten weeks to be thankful for that, but I am.

1.12.07

I don’t like Paris much. Too big, dirty, impersonal, daunting, expensive. Toulouse however is another matter. I pulled myself out of bed at eight thirty, wanting to visit the Saturday market. I make the tour first to see what is there. Old men selling eggs and honey. Women selling pumpkins and clumps of garlic. All is sufficiently surveyed, I go back once more, hands out of my pea coat, ready to harvest for the week. Eggs, carrots, cabbage, a pre-made soup mélange, cheese. I ask for two I like, then ask him to propose something, highly recommended. An old cantal. Strong, breaks like parmesan. Running home with my treasures, Nico, David and Cecil are on the street. I am late. Today is a trip to Toulouse for wandering and presents. The city has rain. I can’t remember any of the sounds, only the feeling of contentment. Buying doesn’t entice, I go in on a Frisbee. Dinner for one at nine.

30.11.07

I taught my first official, sweaty underarm, dry throat, all in French class today. In front of thirty-two kids and one economics teacher I talked about my ‘financial testimony in America’. It felt fairly natural. Class started at eight, one student. We talked about video games. The two afternoon classes were equally inspiring, but after I did get to encourage one of the guys who was trying, despite the two girls around him making fart noises. Apparently, the headmaster made a few decisions that have rendered the Lycee Soult less than tranquil. The profs are uniting next week to form their response. I am part of the French Alpine Club here. The one hundred ninety participants got together to look at the pictures from the year, eat and drink; talk. I starred in three pictures. Nico’s mom came to get us at 11. Good thing, I used up all my good French for the day. It was going downhill quick.

29.11.07

Not a usual Thursday, but welcomed. I slip easily into habit. Trying to be disciplined to work on lessons at night makes it tough to touch the floor four hours before the bus the next day. Heaving myself out of bed, donning spandex and a shirt I ran my hill course. I only have two routes, this is my favorite. The space heater warmed the bathroom so upon returning the shave and shower were delicious. Ninety minutes until departure. I drink coffee and read. Grab the bus at eleven twenty-five, the slightly grumpy pony-tailed blond woman chauffeuring. A quick prep for class; perfect; the class I dread is next week. Three classes, ending at five, debates raised more emotion than I thought. Substituted soccer for watching climbing. Tendonitis equals no climbing. Nico and his mom took me home while recounting Sarkosy’s speech on TV. Note to self, ‘Friends’ does not inspire. Wrote, ate the last bit of food, bed.

28.11.07

Rotten apples spoil the bunch; a rotten kid can ruin your day. I try. Try to make the topics interesting, but today one kid would not shut up. Tried to ignore him, nothing. He was interrupting with useless English words. The third straight hour of teaching and thankfully the last, I was a little tired and edgy. Raphael, who took me home, gave me ammunition I can use to discipline them. Made it home before one and don’t have class for twenty-four hours, so I take the afternoon off. Looking for a pot to cook soup in, hesitated, to big? Left empty-handed. Right to the lovely library. I like it there, the clientele is interesting. Came home, napped, spent time being quiet in front of Jesus, and made crepes while talking to Laura on Skype. Looking for class ideas so watched some episodes of Friends. Yannick called. Quickly crawled into sub-zero bed, the first five seconds are the worst.

27.11.07

Tuesday starts with the game of see-how-long-I-can-stay-in-bed-until-I-HAVE-to-brave-the-freezing-air. It lasts till 6:45. I happily walk past the busses I have missed twenty minutes ago. Meet Angelina at the municipal electric building to drive to school. Thirty-minute small talk session. She shushes me to hear about the riots that happened south of Paris. First class doesn’t show because they have to make up another class. I wander to the teacher’s lounge to fill five hours between classes. The university kids here are on strike; so to be ‘one’ all the high school kids decide to follow suit. However, one of my friends is an organizer and decides to call it off because most just want a day off. I eat lunch with the teachers; teach two classes that average out to be below bearable, and meet my ‘new’ Peugeot mountain bike. Dragging it over to the climbing wall, I freeze for four hours before Jean Baptist takes me home.

One week, onethousandonehundredandtwentywords

Brandon encouraged me to write everyday, and not just for me.
I saw this challenge in action as a friend had to write a story in 160 words exactly for a contest. On my run today I decided to do the same. This is one week. Seven days where I will write 160 words exactly about each day. It is so that a week will be documented, so that all of you will be in the know, and for me, I am trying to be a better writer so this is good practice.
Welp, here it goes.

26.11.07
My week doesn’t really begin until Tuesday, I will have to have a less than stellar intro day. Monday, there is not a whole lot open with, I don’t do much really. Recoup from the weekend, I slept in this morning till 10:30. And plan for the week. I spent a little over a half an hour under the table reading and journaling. Why under the table? No heat save a small space heater so I put it under the table, put a blanket over and called it good. I did yoga in my freezing kitchen, and then sat on the computer for a few hours, looking at pants, dietary changes to help tendonitis, and ideas for lessons. A run along a city path. Flat and oddly crossing streets. Passed by old women on a walk, slowly moving, but moving none the less, they smiled at me, ‘bonjour’s all around. Made a rice, lentil, quinoa salad. Worked some more. Bed.