Saturday, however, was a different story. I decided to go to Ronchamp, a tiny town really close to Lure. It's always the first train stop between here and pretty much anywhere else I go, so it was the cheapest that day trips come. I feel like somewhere I read that there are only a few hundred people who live there, but I honestly don't remember where I read that, so I don't know how accurate or reliable that is. So why did I go to Ronchamp, you ask? One of my first weeks of work, one of my students introduced herself to me and said she lives in Ronchamp. The teacher stopped her and asked me if I knew about Ronchamp. No, of course not. Have YOU (reading this) ever heard of Ronchamp? Probably not. The teacher insisted that I go there sometime to see this cathedral that people from all over the world come to see. Hm. Okay, I guess that's a good enough reason to go to Ronchamp!
So Saturday I finally decided to go.
The Cathédral Notre Dame du Haut sits on top of a hill overlooking the whole city. To get there, a normal person would drive. I walked. And walked. And walked. And walked. And I thought the UWEC hill was bad! This was never-ending! Before I was even halfway there, I had taken off my coat and scarf, and would have taken off more if I could have. I had a small panic attack, too. I was walking along, minding my own business, when some bugs started flying around me. I shooed them away, thinking to myself, "Wow, that would suck if those were bees." Then about three seconds later I actually said out loud, "Oh wow, they ARE bees." It wasn't worth running. I'd have died from exhaustion, and it's not like there were a ton. Maybe only five or so, but enough to be heard buzzing about! I just picked up the pace a little and said a little prayer in my head that they'd go away. And they did. (You see, I've never been stung by a bee. It's not the pain I'm afraid of. It's just that as a child, my mother always wrote "possible allergy to bee stings" on all my emergency medical forms. Apparently it's a serious thing in my family, and I'm absolutely terrified to find out if I'm allergic. And if I am allergic, stranded in the woods on a steep hill wouldn't be the best place to find out. I actually had a back-up plan just in case... I'd wave down the next car to drive by.)
Finally I made it to the top of the hill. I spent about two hours outside by the cathedral. It was a gorgeous day outside, and I knew there was nothing else worth doing in such a small town. And I had to stay in Ronchamp for about 4.5 hours because the trains don't run through very often. I don't have much to say about the cathedral itself. But it was so fun to see other people there. I don't know why. It's like this secret little gem tucked away in this unknown corner of the Haute-Saône, which is a rather un-visisted corner of France to begin with. And yet there were "tourists." Now, who knows where these people were from. There was a group of three young men speaking a language other than English or French (I concluded it may have been Italian...?), and others with heavy-duty cameras who were obviously from out of town. Others were clearly French. There were couples and families, and it made me happy just to see them. On a side note, I decided that if I were to ever become a photographer, I'd like most to photograph people in their everyday lives. I think since if I go places alone, instead of having pictures of myself in those places, it would be cool to have a collection of pictures of strangers- real French people or tourists- in those places. Discovering things like I am. THAT is what shows what a place was really like and what Isaw there, not a picture of me.
My hike back down was less painful that my hike up. I made it back to the "main land" and still had plenty of time to kill. So I walked around the town, which wasn't too impressive, and finally parked it in a café for an hour, ate a dessert, drank some coffee, and read a book. The same book I started in October. Yep. That's how much I don't like reading. But I'm trying.
Back at the train station, I talked to a nice old man who had also visited the cathedral that day. He obviously recognized me (afterall, I was there forever), because the first thing he asked was if I enjoyed the cathedral. He immediately recognized me as not French, and asked, as many do, if I'm German. And as soon as I told him I was American, he started rambling off as many American things he could think of. "In God we trust," he said to me. Then we got talking about money, since that's written on ours. Anyway, he was a nice man, living in Metz, which isn't particularly far from here in the grand scheme of France. He told me earlier that day he had visited Lure, then Ronchamp. Lure?! What did he do in Lure?! It's bigger than Ronchamp, that's for sure, but nothing in Lure is as worthy of being seen as that cathedral in Ronchamp! But anyway, it was cool to know my home is a little bit interesting to some French people. We continued chatting about how there's nothing else to do in Ronchamp. There was a 15-year-old boy waiting there with us, and I asked him what there is to do in Ronchamp and where he goes to school. Nothing to do there, and he takes the train every day to go to school. Wow.
The train station in Ronchamp deserves some attention here. All I want to say is this is the smallest, wimpiest train station I've ever seen in France. It's so small you can't even buy a train ticket. There's not even an inside. Just some stairs going from one side of the track to the other. Something tells me there are a lot more stations like this in France, I just never have reason to go to them. They're probably in all the tiny towns that don't have many trains coming through.
I had to head to Belfort (opposite direction of Lure) before coming home because otherwise I'd have had to wait another hour or so. After walking up to my platform in Belfort, I heard someone shout my name. What?! Someone here knows me?! It was Kaitlin and Corinne! They'd gone skiing with two other assistants that day and were also heading back to Lure. So we rode the train back together, and that was the end of my happy day.
This week at work has been less than boring. Monday I had one class at 2:35. I got out of bed at noon (I know, rough, huh?), went to work on time, and found that the teacher wouldn't be in that day. Now, this is the class I haven't seen since the second week of December. And that was the ONLY time I've seen them. I only have three more weeks I'm scheduled to see them. I wonder if it'll actually happen. Tuesday I went to class in the morning, but the teacher had the class continue with Bowling for Columbine instead of having me teach anything. So I sat through that and did the worksheet with the kids. Fantastic. Went home for lunch, went back after lunch and found no teacher. He was on strike. Okay, fine. Went back again an hour later for my last class, and there was again no teacher. I think she was sick, but I don't know. I seriously question why this school even has an English assistant sometimes. I'm getting paid for an entire month of work when I actually only worked about twelve hours, maybe fifteen. Now that's what I call getting the most bang for your buck!
This entire experience is quite opposite from what I expected coming into it. It's not necessarily a bad thing, but it's not what I expected. I expected to be busy at work. Mind you, I do plan lessons, think of my feet, and spend time in the classroom with the students. But it's not very demanding. Maybe that's a good thing? Maybe that just means I'm good at what I do? I don't know. But I don't feel very proud of a lot of what I do. I don't feel like I accomplish much on a day-to-day basis. I don't feel like I go to work with huge plans and come out with extraordinarily smart kids who achieved a lot with me. I feel like sometimes I'm just there "if they need me." I'm thinking that's a huge difference between working as an assistant in the high schools versus the elementary schools. Those elementary-aged kids actually LEARN from the assistants. My kids just practice (for the most part). I think teaching the little kids would leave me a little more satisfied, although probably a lot more stressed when it comes to lesson planning. I'll just stay content with where I am. :)
It takes me twenty seconds to get to work, and twenty seconds to get back. It's nice, but sometimes I wish I had a little bit of a walk. It would take up more time in my day. Of course, some days I'm sure I would want the extra time, but every day when class is over, in no time I'm back in my sweats and doing nothing important. At least walking to work for 20 minutes would make me feel like I have something to do. But this really isn't something to complain about, is it? No. So I won't.
With that said, I do love is my apartment. The not-having-to-walk-very-far-to-work is more of a plus than a minus, and I really can say this apartment is great. It's clean. It's modern. Nothing's gross or falling apart. It has everything I need and is really just perfect. So I can't complain there.
When I came to France, I had a small list of places I wanted to make sure I visit before returning to the U.S. Switzerland was one of them, and tomorrow I'm going to Switzerland.
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