Advice Post

At last, friends, we have come to the end of my TAPIF experience. Though I never saw a lot of the adventures coming - most of all the way I would leave TAPIF - I'm glad that I've taken the time here to reflect on my experiences and record them in a somewhat meaningful way.
While I would be the last person to over-inflate the importance or utility of this little blog, if it could do one thing, I would hope it could inform and advise others who are considering spending a year doing TAPIF themselves. To that end, I have taken notes throughout the year on things I wish I had known or that someone had told my less globetrotting comrades. I've tried to organize and sensibly present them here, so that others can enjoy my rich wisdom.
While I myself didn't enjoy my year in Martinique, I know the experience could be fulfilling and insightful for others. If you're considering TAPIF or study abroad, I think it's generally a great idea. I also think it's generally a great idea to keep the following in mind.

Enjoying your Life Abroad

• Try to think of the things that are different as interesting aspects of a new cultural experience. Things work differently wherever you go, and adjusting to that system takes time and will involve mistakes made, time lost, money wasted. Learn to laugh at yourself and try to take a neutral perspective on the culture / bureaucracy. You'll have time to form your judgments when you get home / go online to whine (like me!)
• Take photos. This isn't New York City, everything is not, in fact, online.
• When (not if) street harassment and generally unwanted gestures from men become a concern, talk to French women about it. Part of the gender warfare of harassment is that it makes you feel ashamed and frustrated and effectively silenced. Learn the culturally appropriate ways of dealing with it from the locals.
• If you see something in person / online that you're interested in doing, do it right then or write it down to do it later. Foreign countries are filled with exciting and wonderful sites, and you think you'll have plenty of time to do everything. You have plenty of time, then you have plenty of time, then you're gone and you never did it in spite of the fact that you lived next to it for months. 
• At least at the beginning, avoid dishing out money for the food you normally eat at home. Pay attention to what locals eat and which local products are affordable. Try to adapt the local diet to your dietary needs. Eventually, you're going to miss home so much that you're willing to dish out 5 € for a tiny jar of peanut butter, or whatever your comfort food is, but at first it's worth making a habit of trying the new stuff. Even if buying a cookbook is not your style, when you look for recipes online, search in French and look out for regional websites or blogs.
• Find your balance between the routine and the adventure. On the one hand, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to take advantage of Europe / France / your region / your city, with plenty of free time on your hands to Do All the Things. On the other hand, seven months is a long time to drag yourself along from party to international foray to work unprepared to night at the airport. On the other, it's easy to get sucked into a routine and never get around to all that stuff that seemed so cool the first week once you're neck-deep into work. Everybody's process will be different, but I suggest two simultaneous routes. One, set yourself small, weekly goals. Go check something new out that's easily accessible, be it a party, an attraction, or even a cafe. Two, work your way out. See all the shit in your town while it's new and exciting. Then, once you have your gills, check out the region on day trips. Next, try a weekend in Paris or another big city. This gives you air out of your little town as you get tired of it, and gives you a chance to look forward to and save up for bigger trips.
• Rather than giving your opinion about French / local politics, instigate a local to talk about it. You'll learn a lot more that way.
• Once you've packed your bag, unpack it and throw out everything that you're not 100% positive you need (unless it's paperwork - see below). This applies both coming and going.

Getting Here and Handling the Bureaucracy

• No matter what it is, when you think, Oh, but it'll never come to that, it can't be that complicated: it will be. The bureaucracy is a nightmare. After all, miss, this is France. Check and double check that you have a physical and digital copy of every document you've ever owned concerning your visa, your bank account, your job offer, all that shit.
• Write shit down. When your phone dies or there's no Wi-Fi, you're gonna be fucked.
• This is a carry over from literally my entire undergraduate career: THE SQUEAKY WHEEL GETS OILED. I'm not saying you should be a jackass, but I'm saying a) it doesn't hurt to ask, especially if they're your contact person / there to help, b) remind people about their obligations to you, responding to emails / references phone calls as necessary - obeying the bureaucratic process is taken very seriously here, and c) ask for clarification until you understand. I can't tell you how many opportunities I missed because I didn't want to be a bother. There won't always be an exception for you, but sometimes they'll make one.
• If you apply to the CAF, fill out all the paperwork to the best of your ability, then check your account every day for notifications. They won't email or call. If nothing is moving after a couple weeks, call. If you can't get it sorted out, gather up your paperwork and go to the office. Get this sorted out ASAP. It can be worth hundreds of euros a month, so it's worth getting it settled that first month.

A Break from Whining

While I pride myself on the objective accomplishment of writing a blog composed of purely insightful, top-quality cultural insight that never descends into self-pitying complaints, I have been feeling pretty down lately, mostly because of some gros problèmes that the community is currently experiencing with the bus system. (Apparently one government agency has just decided to not pay its share of the cost of running the buses, so now there's no money to run them at all ... ) Still, I think that my constantly negative consistently critical mind has been contributing to my unhappiness.
So, today, rather than providing you with totally concise and provocatively penetrating social analysis, today's post is a list of things I like about being here.

1. My Job

The administration? No. The red tape? No. The teachers? Not 100% of them. But my students are the cutest creatures on the planet, and I have the best job on the island. They all have a natural curiosity verging on obsession about English / the U.S.A. (for both good and bad reasons), and when the older students try to play the blasé know-it-all, I see right through it and it makes them even cuter. I don't grade, discipline (besides occasionally yell), or spend enough time with my little angels for them to grow to dislike me. I basically show up, sing songs, dance and play, correct pronunciation, teach them fun things about culture, and leave, dragging myself out of hug attacks to get out the gate. Does it get better?

2. I'm Getting Super Fit

On days that I work, I walk a minimum of 5km. Since I have so much free time, I work out nearly religiously (though tonight might be an exception, uuugh). I sweat out anything I eat in the constantly 80 degree F-weather. Any food I buy at the store I have to carry home, so I buy less and am getting ripped triceps. When I am on vacation and don't have a car, my primary way of getting out is walking somewhere really far or taking the bus to the mall and walking around. When I'm on vacation and I do have a car, I swim, hike, or both every day.

3. I'm Working on a Several No-Consequences Projects

Especially when compared to my past academic life (since I was literally fifteen), I commit a huge proportion of my time to loisirs, in the deepest sense. If I do shit in creole, don't work on my cross-stitch project for two months (my present situation), if I don't read that chapter I intended to get to or watch a TedTalk today, what's going to happen? If I mess up that calligraphy I'm working on turns out ugly, who's gonna bring it up? I don't fail anything. I don't lose any money. Nothing hurts. It has allowed me to be spontaneous when the opportunity has arisen and has given me the mental space to re-evaluate my priorities.

4. What is it like to Live Completely Alone? To be Able to Walk around in My Underwear? Now I Know.

Technically I do still have one flatmate during the week. But during the week I typically act like a normal, if unlikeable, human being. Then he leaves mid-afternoon on Friday and there is no one to witness me promenading nude, eating at 2 a.m., screeching along to Pure Prairie League, or wasting my life on Tumblr. I can take as long as I want in the bathroom, I can use every dish in the kitchen at once, I can talk on Skype until sunup. There are no consequences. Given that when I repatriate I'll almost certainly have a full-time flatmate and re-commence my search for a romantic partner, who knows if I'll ever be this free again? Now I'll never have to regret not knowing what it means to eat cereal on the kitchen counter in your undies.

5. I am SO INFORMED RIGHT NOW

Which, I'm willing to admit, can be stressful. But I never have to worry that I'm an uninformed global citizen or not reading enough, because I spend 2-3 hours a day reading news and commentary, which my poor Tumblr followers probably wish I wouldn't do, or at least not share so much.

6. I have Eaten More Avocados and Bananas than Any Wretched Human Deserves and I'm Not Stopping Any Time Soon (by FOB)

7. GUAVA JUICE

8. The Nice Old Ladies from my Creole Class

I've learned more about Martinican culture from them than from anybody else. They're hilarious and sweet. Two of them drive me home on Mondays now. #GodBless

9. (*Knock on Wood*) I Think I'm Actually Making Money

Despite my financial worries at the beginning of this adventure, it appears that I'm actually putting back a significant amount of cash right now. As it turns out, when you can't go anywhere, you're far away from your favorite shops, and you effectively can't get anything delivered, you don't spend a lot of money. Coupled with my tutoring gigs, the ink has turned green, unbelievable as that would have seemed a few short months ago.

10. I've Learned to Appreciate Little Things

By living a far less stimulating life, I've come to get really excited about the small things in life, including my friends' blog updates, mail (more than ever), Spotify Discover Weekly, perfectly ripe fruit, good ice cream, leisure reading, the feeling of line-dried laundry, good health, and sales on food you regularly buy.

11. Getting to the Bus Stop Just as the Bus Rolls Up and Feeling Like a Genius for the Next Hour

12. Online Shopping

I did it some before, but right now my sanity hinges on looking at black cutoff overalls online and picking out gifts for my friends' upcoming birthdays.

13. Seeing the Ocean Everywhere

It's cliché, but seeing the vast ocean enveloping your tiny island home every day on your walk work puts things into perspective.

14. Honestly? Things are Fucked Up Here, but When You Come From the U.S....

Macron married his teacher, but he doesn't have a dozen accounts of sexual assault against him. Any violence or homelessness (/social violence) is unacceptable, but those are bothers here compared to the epidemics in American cities. The unemployed, the under-paid, and the elderly have relatively consistent access to public assistance. I've witnessed a grand total of one public xenophobic insult here, rather than hearing them everyday back home. Each person I've met has hobbies, because they're not nearly so worked to death. Other than assistants still awaiting their social security cards, I don't know anyone who doesn't have health insurance. I could go on, but I think you get the idea.

On that somewhat conciliatory note, I still hate it here and can't wait to leave. But I think being grateful is good for you, and I appreciate your wading through this therapeutic exercise with me. 

Please enjoy this photo of a cat playing in a graveyard that I took this morning.

You deserve it.

 

What is in a Name?

So, imagine the following nightmare with me:
On your first day of work in a foreign primary school, your (highly irritated and hardly English-speaking) head teacher asks you to come up with """American""" names for her adorable 5-6 year old students, who are clearly far too afraid / confused by their teacher to report their real names when she asks. This teacher, who hasn't actually been exposed to much American / English culture since her classes presumably in the '90s, has her own idea of what """American""" names sound like: white sitcom names. You have to, in a flash, try to come up with """American""" names for these deserving, good children that are authentic to their age but which also appeal to the bleached tastes of the teacher, who is terrifying them and clearly impatient. Plus, they have to be easy to spell, because she's going to make these kids, who barely know how to hold a pencil, write their own name plates.
Welcome to my reality.
I'm really quite, quite ashamed of the names that these kids may very well carry through the rest of their English-learning career - or even beyond.
Now, mind you, I'm not totally opposed to taking a name from the language you're learning. My first term of French, our instructor directed us to an online database of baby names in France and had us pick from the most popular names from our year of birth. That way, we had some say, some time to prepare, and got a name that was both French and contemporary to our age. We're still in contact, and she still calls me by my chosen French name, which makes it really funny that I have a student named Océane.
This is not what occurred with my poor students.
Bless their hearts.
I'm crippled with guilt! The consequences of my inadequate selection could follow them through the rest of their educational careers - AND BEYOND.
At least I didn't allow any of them to be called Kevin ... 

Fiches d'anglais

Dailleurs, French students have a fun predilection for both
pencil bags and oddly specific / outdated American culture.

Back at home, I have a giant, blue three-ring binder full of French learning materials. While some of it was added while I was in college, most of it is copies and handouts from my high school days. It's one of my most prized possessions not because of the perfect dictation that I have slid in the front cover (I'd never brag about that old thing), but rather because of what a long-term learning tool it has been for me.
A lot of the resources inside are more of compendiums than worksheets: the appropriate idiom to say how you play every sport conceivable, every common French idiom about food (there's quite a few of those), guides on conjugating every kind of verb. Whereas I did read and study those materials as they were given to me, I definitely did not internalize all of the material on the first or even second read-through. Rather, I consulted the binder on occasion, before exams or trips to France or interviews or even just for fun, over the course of years. Songs and passages that meant nothing to me in my first years of learning French seemed really beautiful in my fifth. Idioms about wind surfing I could never remember before my first national exam came out perfectly in conversations six years later. My big binder encapsulates, in a certain way, what an on-going and branching process learning is (which is recognized by teaching trends like spiraling, for instance).
That's one reason why I get so excited about lesson planning. Besides that I love my job (location aside, perhaps), I love imagining the students returning to their cahiers years down the road and re-reading the materials I give them now. Some of them don't even try to read their pumpkin poems or question sheets about traveling to anglophone countries, and those who do struggle to shape their mouths around each sound, much less understand and appreciate the language. And, of course, many of the students will chunk their cahiers and all the sheets I've had them glue inside. (Can we talk about that for a second? Why do the French have their students glue handouts inside their notebooks instead of just using three-ring binders or folders? Why spend all that time??) But others will keep them and, as they continue on their journey of discovering the English language and traveling about, they will occasionally peep back into their notebook and learn something they'd missed the first few times.
It really ups the ante about catching typos in my teaching materials.