For those who don't already know, I have been living in a small city in France for the last six months, and will be here until around June/July. The city is called Tours, which means "Towers," so named because of the extraordinary number of tow trucks in the area.
Ha! Kidding. The towers
reference is due to the abundance of castles in the area here in the Loire valley.
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| Amboise |
The city of Tours, located in France, is very hard to find information about before you go. When you google "Tours France" you get a lot of results about tour companies in France, which is technically what you typed. Luckily I went in person and found out plenty for you, including lots of castle information.
I have been to see some of these castles, and I must say I am impressed. When my mom visited me here, we even went to the royal castle of Amboise, and I was surprised to see that Leonardo da Vinci was buried on the premises. Of course, that is because he had a great relationship with Francois the 1st (king of France 1515-1547) due to Francois' appreciation of genius and the arts, as every semi-educated cretin knows.
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| Chilling with Da Vinci, stylish audio-guide dangling fashionably from my neck. |
Also, King Charles VIII died
there "in 1498 after hitting his head
on a door lintel." You would think that after such a
catastrophe the door lintels would be covered in plush padding, surrounded by
signs saying "Pass under this lintel at your own risk." But as
I am continuously reminded, my ideas are quite American. Although I
myself am not a litigious, xenophobic walking side of ham, I still carry my
American-ness with me. This is evident when I see giant uncovered holes
in the street and immediately think, "Someone is about to fall in there, and
then the city will get sued." Meanwhile, the
"laissez-faire" French people are deftly side-stepping the death trap
while dragging on their cigarettes and discussing plans for l'apéritif. They also somehow avoid the ubiquitous piles of
dog poo scattered everywhere. No one picks up after their dogs here.
One time I was across the street from a woman who let her dog poo right
in front of someone's car door. I made eye contact with her to make sure
she knew she was under the watchful eye of a concerned citizen, just in case
she needed motivation to Do the Right Thing. Well, Fido finished right up
and she immediately left. Not a care in the world. It was in the
STREET! In front of a car door! Not some distant wood where no one
would have their day ruined by it. That poo was smack in the center of a
bee hive of pedestrian activity. This is an OUTRAGE!
And that is how you start a paragraph talking about kings and geniuses and end
with an extensive diatribe on dog poo. Don't worry, novice writers, you
too will one day possess this art of effortless story weaving.
Anyway, my job here is to teach English classes at a French university.
The majority of the classes have to do with phonetics, pronunciation, and
oral expression. Want to hear something hilarious? For the
phonetics classes, all the "lectrices" (lecturers) are supposed to
speak with an English accent. French people want nothing to do with
American/Irish/Scottish/Australian accents. They want to sound like Queen
Elizabeth. I like to tell meself that I do a bloody good job of sounding
like a propah redcoat. I mean, that very sentence could earn me an Oscar.
But really I sound like Nicolas Cage in this
video (starting at :23).
Speaking of the lecteurs, there are 8 of us here for the English classes.
I've surrounded myself mostly with the Scottish and Irish girls.
They are all lovely and glamourous and put-together (i.e., they make an
effort in the morning, emerging each day with styled hair, subtle yet trendy
accessories, and liquid eyeliner applied just so, while I stick to my American
regimen of making sure I can see through my unibrow). Bonus: they say
"wee" instead of little! As in, "Ah yeah, I went to a wee
shop today and got some toasties." Ok so I forgot what they really
say but it definitely has "wee" in it. It's just adorable.
The food is lovely. Being vegetarian is not frowned upon but rather
laughed at (literally, my doctor here laughed at me. He was also amused
by my taking multivitamins, he had this facial expression that basically
communicated the thought, "Whatever, you weird American. You'd be
healthier if you scarfed down some tortured duck liver every now and
then.").
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| Honestly, I eat more vegetables here than I ever have before. |
Also, in addition to my lovely
day job, I've picked up a few shifts teaching Zumba classes. I got
certified to do it in Paris and my main audience is chic French women.
However, my jazzy dance vocabulary is somewhat lacking, so during each class
I never fail to emit some nonsensical babble in what I hope is an encouraging
and inspiring yelp, something like, "Très bien, et maintenant, faites un
body roll!" The French women always offer some helpful corrections
after I say such nonsense, but they are always panting and the music is always
blasting during these corrections, so I just smile and nod and do more body
rolls. I lead by example and a firm yet gentle attitude of undisputed
authority. I'm basically the Winston Churchill of polyglot Zumba.
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| Teaching a Zumba class with my friend Marine |
So indeed, my year here is going fantastically. I have 2 jobs that I love and a fantastic (if expensive) apartment overlooking the Loire river.
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| My view when I wake up: The Loire River |
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| I took this pic while crossing the Loire. |
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| 15th century building w video game store on ground floor. |
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| Downtown Tours - City Hall |
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| Right by my building. |
Future plans:
Next month I will be doing another rail pass/couchsurfing adventure - Poland, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Austria and Hungary.
This summer I will be going on a safari in Kenya with my lovely little sister, whom there is a chance I will not murder after being in close quarters with her after 36 hours. I guess we'll just have to wait and see!
