Spring Break and other North American institutions

Spring Break: a North American holiday typically associated with students partying and drinking, often in warmer countries with more relaxed alcohol laws than the U.S.

So, what did I do for my Spring break? Well, I like to challenge stereotypes - I went skiing for a week at Mont Tremblant, QC with 5 friends. Warmer? No. Excessive partying? Too tired from skiing all day! Alcohol? Only a glass or two of red with the filet mignon, darling!

We started the week off on Saturday morning, when we hired a car and drove the 3 hours from Quebec to Montreal, stopping only for the worlds largest poutine on the highway. We arrived in Montreal to find that it was the "nuit blanche", a night when most of Montreal's museums and galleries remain open all night, they have live performances and fireworks -  a real festival atmosphere!

http://www.montrealenlumiere.com/volets/nuit_blanche/en_bref_en.aspx

So we had dinner in the most stereotypical Italian restaurant we could find (and were even serenaded by Italians with violins!) then headed out to enjoy the festival.

The next day, we hit the mean streets of Montreal in search of bargains. My bank balance still hasn't forgiven me. We also went to the cinema, and saw a generic girly film I've forgotten the name of already.  Then we packed up the car and headed north to Mont Tremblant. We, somewhat foolishly, decided to let Nick navigate, with the result that we arrived nearly 2 hours late so when we eventually arrived at our hotel, they told us they had no rooms left! They had rebooked us in a nearby hotel instead, so we drove round the corner to the new hotel, which was much nicer, thinking we had struck gold. Nick went in to check us in and 2 minutes later he reappeared with the news that this hotel had no space and we had been rebooked elsewhere. It was getting a bit ridiculous at this point, but when we arrived at the third hotel, it was all worth it. We had been given a suite at the best hotel in the resort (The Westin Resort and Spa) at no extra cost! The valet took our bags and parked our car, as we attempted to walk through the hotel without looking completely out of place (we failed!).

The weather was gorgeous all week, clear blue skies and sunshine, we were up most mornings and on the mountain for 8.30 to make the most of our days and after skiing we went either for the traditional après-ski in one of the pubs or to use the sauna and Jacuzzi  at the hotel. I picked up skiing fairly well, so much so I am considering buying skis and continuing it when I come home, although I did fall over a fair bit as well! The best moment was when I forgot to stand up and ski off the chair lift when we came to the top, with the hilarious consequence that I had to jump from the chair before it took me back down the mountain again! If you have seen the film "Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason" it was an exact replica of the scene where she jumps from the chair lift! I think I amused a few Canadians anyway, and I didn't hurt myself too badly!

After an altogether fabulous week, we were all very sad to leave and head back home (albeit with another slight diversion as we got lost in Montreal for an hour or so).  However, one day back at school and I was in stitches again, wondering why I ever wanted to stay at Mont Tremblant. I love my job and all the kids too much! It's going to be a nightmare leaving them all at the end of May!

New year, new adventures...

... same old weather. It seems I can't escape snow in any country at the moment! For anyone that has been living in outer space for the last month or so, Europe is currently experiencing a phenomenon often referred to as "winter". This means that temperatures drop, often below zero, and that sometimes it might even snow. For anyone worried by said phenomenon, it is probably not the next ice age, climate change or punishment from God. So have a cup of tea and calm down.

Anyway, sarcasm aside, the cold spell didn't prevent me from returning home to the loving arms of my family for Christmas. In fact, I was extraordinarily lucky that on the day I was travelling, I managed to get on the only plane to Manchester that wasn't cancelled and made it home a mere 20 minutes late. Quite a feat when others were stranded for days on end, eating airport food, sleeping across plastic chairs of pain and using those chewable toothbrushes from the vending machines.

I had a very relaxing 2 weeks in my new house, lots of time spent with family, in front of the fire and watching the snow and of course - eating far too much. 'Tis the season after all! The new house is wonderfully warm and cosy and very quiet. It was good to see the family again, I hadn't realised just how much I had missed them. So I was quite sad when my 2 weeks were up and I had to pack up again and fly back to Canada.

However, I was given a stay of execution of sorts, when my trip back to Quebec went less than smoothly (that damned "winter" thing causing problems again). Tom and I were supposed to be travelling back to Quebec, via Paris, on a morning flight on Tuesday (5th). We set off at 5am, ample time  to get to the airport, check in and spend obscene amounts in the duty free shop. However, it was clearly not meant to be. It had snowed overnight and of course, the roads hadn't been ploughed, accidents ensued and it took four hours on the motorway to do the usual one hour journey to Manchester airport. In an ironic fashion, it was quite lucky that the airport was closed and all flights were cancelled, because had they not been, we would most certainly have missed ours due to snow delays on the road and had to pay through the nose for new tickets. As it was, we eventually arrived at the airport and were herded into a queue for another 4 hours to rebook our flights. As the next available flight was not for 2 days, we headed back home.

Thursday came and went, and by the end of the day we had made it as far as Paris. It seems Manchester airport only have one plane de-icer for the whole airport. Of course our plane was last in the queue, we missed our connection and ended up stranded in Paris. Luckily Airfrance put us up for the night in a hotel (dinner and breakfast included). After a night in the most bog-standard of hotels, we navigated the chaos that is Charles-de-Gaulle airport (no logical layout, no facilities, lots of overpriced handbag shops) and finally, 4 days later, made it onto a plane to Montreal. The flight itself was great - only on a French airline would you be presented with smoked salmon, camembert and as much good red wine as you can drink!

Since coming back to Quebec I have been extraordinarily busy, although I have only actually been into  school for 3 days in the last 2 weeks, I've had one class and even that was team teaching, so required very little effort on my part! So what have I been up to, you ask? Well, I have moved house, from the charming (but ultimately lifeless) village of Beaupré to Quebec city, buzzing capital metropolis! I am now sharing a quirky and thoroughly impractical little flat in Vieux Quebec with Nick, another underworked and over-partied language assistant. It's been an interesting first week in my new place, as on the second day our toilet blocked, overflowed and all the water came gushing through the kitchen ceiling! The landlord, a charming French man (is there such a thing?), has refused to do anything about this, so for the last week we have had to resort to using friends houses, petrol stations and restaurants! I will never take a working toilet for granted again! It's been such a pain to have to plan everything we do around where might have toilet facilities! But anyway, I don't want to go into too much detail about that, and I'm sure you don't want to hear it either! After lots of phone calls, angry emails and enough plunging to tire the muscles of a professional bodybuilder, we should (touch wood) have a plumber coming round this week to fix it.

As if that wasn't enough, the kitchen cooker is a beautiful specimen of 1950's technology and it has an annoying habit of smoking for no apparent reason, which sets off the fire alarms. This in itself is a nuisance, but even more so since the fire alarms are connected to the city fire brigade. So if one of us burns some toast, or the cooker smokes when we try and make a cup of tea (old fashioned kettle!) 20 burly firemen are liable to burst in and shower us all in foam and water at any moment!

As well as running around with buckets and desperately wafting smoke as the flat falls down around our ears, we have somehow found the time to have a bit of fun as well. Last Saturday I decided I want to run away and join the circus. We went to see a matinée performance of Alegria - Cirque du Soleil, which was mind-blowingly and utterly incredible. I was mesmerised from start to finish.

http://www.cirquedusoleil.com/en/shows/alegria/show/about.aspx

If you ever get a chance to see Cirque du Soleil perform, I highly recommend you do. It's an experience not to be missed!

Now, if all else fails, I have my backup plan. I can join the circus, probably as a clown and tour the world. I'm not bendy or bouncy enough for the acrobatics or contortion! On second thoughts, why have that as a backup plan? That's much more fun than being a teacher!

One thing I've been doing a lot of recently is ice skating. Canada, obviously, is big on its winter sports and there is a free outdoor ice rink 5 minutes walk from my flat. I bought myself a cheap (but beautiful) pair of second-hand white figure skates and I've been skating almost every day since then! Now I'm never going to be the next Jane Torville, but I can at least hold my own on a rink with Canadian children, most of whom have been skating since before they could walk. At least I knew how to skate before I came here. Skiing, in which I am having my first lesson next week, is going to be a whole different kettle of fish. Nick, my flatmate extraordinaire and seasoned skier is taking Laura and I to the mountain next weekend for our first lesson. Watch this space for the broken bone count! Assuming I don't get caught in an avalanche and have to be rescued by mounties first!

A bientôt!

Simply having a wonderful chalet time!

I've been getting reports from across the pond that people are becoming concerned about my well-being due to the fact that I haven't posted in a while. So, just to reassure you, I am still alive and well. I've just been monumentally busy recently, November has gone by in a flash!

School has kept me more than busy recently, in the run up to Christmas all the children seem to have gone insane and good behaviour has gone out of the window (again). But it's been a lot of fun too. One of the more mischievous boys in Sec.3 made my week this week with the comment "you is the best English teacher we is having, Miss". I'm not sure this isn't somewhat of a contradiction in itself, but it is nice to know I've got through to at least one of them!

On to more general musings. Several more things have struck me recently about the culture here - firstly the obsession with disinfecting anything and everything is starting to get on my nerves somewhat. It's no wonder half the children at school have serious allergies when they have never been exposed to anything less than a sterile environment. They have no chance to build up their immune systems to fight off even a little sniffle! And the H1N1 Pandemic and scare-mongering is not helping matters much. While I'm on the subject of swine 'flu, the majority of students are being bussed to Quebec City tomorrow, an hour away, to have the H1N1 vaccine. There are, in my opinion, several things wrong with this situation. Not with having the vaccine itself, but the fact that the children are being bussed to Quebec city to start with. When all is needed is for a couple of nurses to come out to the school with the equipment, the organisation involved in tens of school buses transporting hundreds of children to the capital seems a tad excessive. It's not as if the school is any less clean than a hospital or medical centre would be (see previous rant about disinfecting).

I'm starting to feel like such an old woman, harping on about how things were "in my day". But in all seriousness, when I was at school, you lined up in the assembly hall, the school nurse swabbed your arm then stuck you with the needle. 5 minutes later and you were back in class and getting on with the lesson at hand. As far as I'm concerned, people are making mountains out of molehills about everything these days. The parents of the children have even been allowed to attend the vaccination, clearly in case a quick prod with a needle forever scars the child emotionally. Compensation culture I suppose, couldn't run the risk of someone suing ten years down the line. I could understand if I were teaching at a primary school, the support of a parent in many cases would probably be invaluable. However, children aged 12-17 should really be able to cope for 5 minutes without their "helicopter parents" hovering nearby all the livelong day!

Whilst I'm in full on rant mode, I might as well have a general rant about modern western culture when it comes to children. Some children these days clearly spend far too much time in front of an "electronic babysitter", be it television, internet or games console. As a consequence, teachers are left despairing of the fact that some children in their classes have no curiosity, no imagination and have never learnt to think for themselves. I constantly find myself in an uphill struggle with students unused to imagining different scenarios, putting themselves in the place of others or generally having an independent thought! It's very difficult to get children to practice vocabulary, for instance ordering something in a restaurant, if their first reaction is to say "but I'm not in a restaurant!" It can be very tempting to give up entirely, but I won't!

Something else I find interesting is the difference in the standards of discipline between here and the UK. Obviously it will vary enormously between schools, and comparing a Grammar School in England to a Public High School here is hardly a fair comparison. But, since when was life ever fair? (as I keep having to remind the students when they don't want to do things - you can't always have what you want. Life isn't fair. Get over it!) Having students wander into your class when they feel like it, a mass exodus when the bell rings regardless of whether the teacher has finished speaking, or complaining that learning English is "against their human rights" is a far cry from the world of LGGS where you stand up when the teacher enters the room and say good morning, and wait to be dismissed at the end of the lesson! As a teacher, I know which I would prefer! That's not to say either way is better, just different. It takes some getting used to though.

Anyway, enough musings. What else have I been up to, I hear you cry? Well, last weekend 80 language assistants, from Britain, Ireland, Canada, Germany, Mexico and some random hangers-on all descended on my wee village. We rented a chalet in the hopes of being able to spend a weekend skiing at Mont Ste-Anne, but fate decided otherwise. This November has been one of the warmest on record, with average temperatures of 10˚c, as opposed to the usual -4˚c. A severe lack of snow has meant the ski resort opening has been pushed back by almost a month. However, we didn't let the heat spoil our weekend fun. We climbed a mountain, some people went to a spa, and there were lots of games of Scrabble as well as more food than the human body can handle. We did a Secret Santa present exchange as well and had a sing-along. It was a lot of fun and laughter, it really did feel almost like Christmas. Special mention to Andy Henton, from whom I stole the title for this post, and for organising the whole weekend and working tirelessly to make it a success.

The snow has now arrived, a day after everyone left the chalet (typical) and there are a good few inches covering the ground. It looks quite magical now, with all the Christmas lights decorating the houses and gardens (another cultural difference - here it is not considered tacky to use more electricity for decorations than some countries use in a year) and the snow settled on the ground. Unfortunately, I haven't quite got the knack of walking on the snow and ice yet (several falls and many bruises) but I've got to get some winter boots tomorrow, so I think I'll be getting ones with metal spikes on the soles to literally fix myself to the ground!

For now, I think I'm done with this marathon post. In 3 weeks I will be back home in England for Christmas and I can't wait! Until then, all that really remains is to wish you all a Joyeux Noel and a Merry Christmas, no matter where in the world you are!

xxx

Free mushrooms? No? How about a fridge deodorant then?

Another couple of weeks in Canada, and yet another blog for your perusal. The last couple of weeks have brought with them some interesting challenges, new ideas and of course, a whole lot of fun! The oddest thing I've noticed recently though is the free gift at IGA if you spend more than a certain amount on your weekly shop, hence the title. I didn't even know there was such a thing as a fridge deodorant until now! I'm quite intrigued to find out what next week's present will be!

As for school, it seems that as the kids get to know me better, they are a lot less shy and a lot less willing to toe the line. Unluckily for them, I have no qualms in sending them out of class or giving them bad grades for unacceptable effort. The majority of them have learnt not to mess with me! I may not be much older than them, but I'm still the teacher! There have been many highlights over the last couple of weeks too, so I'll just mention some of the best. My Sec. 1 students (the youngest in the school at 12 years old) had me in stitches with their vivid imaginations. I had them all pretend to be shipwrecked on a desert island and make a poster about their adventures. Giant man-eating chickens and flying monkeys, electricity trees and cannibalism all featured, not to mention mermaids and flesh eating locusts. I also taught a couple of my groups to play "Wink Murder" (not really a language learning activity, but they all enjoyed it!) and they all had great fun pretending to die as dramatically as possible. My own oscar-worthy death scene left me with 2 bruised and swollen knees and a bump on the head!

I'm now almost certain I want to go into teaching as a career after university and I've been looking into all the training options etc. It's quite exciting knowing what you want to do with your life! I agreed to take a couple of whole classes this week instead of my usual groups of 10, for the experience more than anything. I certainly got that! 30 children make a disproportionate amount more noise than 10!
Some classes it's still like pulling teeth trying to get them to talk, these are my least favourite classes. Classes I like to refer to as "crowd control" are surprisingly more fun (although not good for my blood pressure!) Discipline is easy, actually motivating shy and/or apathetic teenagers less so!

Kids are entertaining and challenging enough, but dealing with their parents, oh boy. A whole different ball game, as it were. I was enlisted to help at the school board open day for prospective parents 2 weeks ago, and what an experience! The school system is very different here, choosing a secondary school for your child isn't a postcode lottery like in the UK. Here, you can just choose which state school you want your child to go to, and they have to accept them. The school board open day felt more like a cattle market than anything else, stalls for every different school, with teachers (and unwitting English assistants!) desperately trying to sell their school to the parents. It was 8 hours of handing out branded water bottles and bags with the school logo to kids, explaining the various strengths of the school and handing out paperwork to the parents. It was definitely an interesting insight to the school system and the culture as well as being an amazing opportunity to practice my French. Some of the parents actually mistook me for a quebecois student, which was flattering on more than one level! It was hard work but I really enjoyed the whole day.

In other news, as we've had snow again this week, I decided to bite the bullet and get myself properly kitted out for the Canadian winter. I may now be broke ($600!) but at least when it gets to minus 30 degrees, I'll still be able to go outside! And my coat is luminous blue, so there is little chance of me getting lost in a snow storm, or on the mountain when I'm skiing. I only live a short walk from the mountain, so I expect I'll be doing a fair bit of skiing this winter. I've never skied before but it should be good fun. And it gives me an excellent excuse to drink lots of hot chocolate to warm up afterwards!

That's it from me for now. I'm supposed to be at a training week in Quebec city with the other assistants at the moment, but as I currently have 'flu (again) I'm curled up in bed and taking lots of painkillers and sleeping instead. I just hope I'm better in time for the school trip to Ottawa next week!

A bientôt!

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

A quick photo update as today was the first snowfall in Beaupré!


Yesterday, I was walking around wearing just a t-shirt, and now there is about half a foot of snow piled up. It hasn't stopped all day. Walking to school was fun - not being accustomed to walking in snow, I was very wobbly (the kids were entertained at any rate!) but, touch wood, I haven't fallen yet and I don't intend to.

I was very excited about the snow, everyone at school thought it was very cute. To them this is just pathetic autumn snow. It's barely even registered with some people. In the UK, everything would have ground to a halt by now. The sky is white, it shows no signs of slowing just yet. It's very pretty.

The only problem now is that someone somewhere must have had an accident and crashed into a power line, because we are currently without electricity. Thank goodness for the log fire!!!

(My classroom in school. Nice and warm and toasty!)

I went to a fight and an ice hockey match broke out!

Yet another eventful week has passed here in QC. Time is simply flying by in fact. I'll be home for Christmas before you know it!

It was a particularly challlenging week for discipline at school last week - I'm beginning to think they put something in the water here, they can't all have ADHD! As much as I want them to speak in English, when the whole class does so at once, it causes quite a racket! At least the majority of them don't need motivating! Still, they are such good fun to work with. In a lesson about holidays, one of my sports boys told me exactly why he wanted to go to Amsterdam... Funny, but a little too much information! The highlight of my week, however, was when one of the English teachers came to me to tell me how the students are raving about my workshops. A nice little ego boost there! It's always nice to be appreciated, and let's face it, the kids don't usually tell teachers they are enjoying school!

So, after a long and tiring week at school, what did I do at the weekend? Rest, relax, put my feet up in front of the telly? Of course not. I headed off to Saint-Georges de Beauce with the other assistants for a Thanksgiving Feast and weekend of frivolity. I had my first ice hockey experience on Friday evening, it was so exciting and so violent! I can see why everyone here (and I mean EVERYONE) is nuts about the game. It's great fun to watch, even when the game descends into all-out warfare between the players and the puck lays forgotten. As the saying goes - I went to a fight and an ice hockey match broke out! This game wasn't too violent though, because it was a junior league, so the referees stepped in fairly swiftly when things started to get out of hand. Even so, there were a fair few punches thrown, players smashed into the barriers and some sneaky stick-tripping going on!

On Saturday morning I had what could quite possibly have been the world's largest breakfast. It came on a plate the size of a large roasting tin, and consisted of 4 pancakes and maple syrup, bacon, 2 eggs, sausages, ham, creton (mince pâté), mini potatoes, 4 slices of toast, a large fruit salad and free refills of coffee. Needless to say I didn't eat for the rest of the day! We went shopping in the afternoon for all the bits and pieces we needed for our "traditional" thanksgiving feast - co-ordinating 20 people and 2 trolleys was very entertaining, but we didn't forget a single ingredient! We had a quick dinner then threw on our gladrags and headed to Au Vieux, the best (only) club in St-Georges. It was so completely packed there was only room to dance vertically - jumping up and down and moving your arms in a similar fashion! After a late-night poutine, we headed home to bed.

Sunday brought with it a flurry of activity in the kitchen, as 20 people tried to cook different dishes simultaneously. I was assigned to washing up duty (oh the joys) so for the most part I kept out of the way of the chaos in the kitchen, only being called upon as and when we ran out of pans, spoons, plates etc. etc. When everything was ready and spread out on the floor, we had our Thanksgiving picnic of ham, roast and mashed potatoes, chickpeas, stuffing, various vegetables, couscous, banoffee pie and apple crumble. Not exactly the traditional turkey and cranberry, but equally delicious, and after all, it's not the food or the decorations that make the holiday, but the people you spend it with, and we had good fun! One of the highlights of the weekend, however, had to be "Chinterviews" - where you draw a face upside down on your chin and give an interview in a funny voice upside down. We had American tourists, Germans and British MPs, I don't think any of us have ever laughed so hard!

Now I'm back at home in Beaupré, sorting out everything for another week at school. The little angels tried to convince me I hadn't taught them before, so they could play games, this afternoon. Nice try kids! On a random note to finish, I'm making soup for my dinner, but it's gone a very funny colour... Cauliflower is purple in Canada. So too is my soup now. I'm making a purple stew, scooby do do...

A bientôt!

Just how much can you fit in a people carrier?

Just a wee update for all my fans after an extremely eventful weekend here in Canada.

After having packed 5 people and enough food for 70 into a 6-seater car on Friday evening, we proceeded to drive the somewhat uncomfortable 120 miles from Quebec city to Tadoussac on the Côte Nord, each with an apple crumble precariously balanced on our respective knees. We stopped halfway for some light refreshment (MacDo) and discovered that in North America, a large portion is actually enough to feed a whole country, then continued on our way through the wilds to Tadoussac. On our arrival, we found that the Germans had got there first, and lovingly laid out their beach towels, ahem, bags, on all of the best beds in the house, leaving us Brits to the mattresses and leaking water beds on the floor in the living room. However, our stiff upper lips and mustn't grumble attitudes got us through the night (if I didn't have back problems before, I do now). Right on cue, 07.45 the next morning, and who should appear but the Germans, washed and dressed and setting a table for an orderly and punctual breakfast. We Brits went to the café for bacon and eggs (tiredness prevalent from the late night/ early morning party), cursing the Germans for waking us up.

Anyway, enough German bashing methinks. All of the German assistants here in Québec are lovely, and I am usually a great champion of German culture, except when rudely awoken by unnecessary but orderly voting over which type of Brötchen to have for breakfast. One of the Canadians even remarked "You're very organised, aren't you?" to which the Germans replied "Vell yes, we are German, ja" which had us all in stitches.

When everyone had managed to drag themselves out of bed, we all got wrapped up to go out on the St. Lawrence river and see if we could spot whales. Having been advised to layer up, I went out in 3 t-shirts, 2 jumpers, a coat, leggings and trousers, hat, scarf and gloves. We were then given waterproof trousers and fisherman's jackets on the boat - we were all wearing so many layers it made moving practically impossible, we all looked like the Michelin Man. It still wasn't enough. After 3 hours out on the water, my hands, feet and face were all numb and the rest of my body was heading the same way!

However, I would quite happily have come back with hypothermia and frostbite because seeing so many whales, and so close to the boat, was an experience I will never forget. We had booked a zodiac trip, so off we went in a large motorised rubber dinghy and within 10 minutes we were surrounded by beluga whales, bobbing around the boats, evidently curious. I never expected to see so many on one trip, everywhere you looked there were white backs rising from the water, it was incredible. We went a bit further out and ran into a pod of minke whales, who obligingly flicked their tails in the air for photos and came so close to our small boats you could have reached out and touched them. Even further out (we were all shivering by this point) and we came across a sleeping humpback whale. They sleep on the surface, bobbing along quite serenely but they are absolutely HUGE. Yes, I know, they are whales (duh) but until you see one you don't quite appreciate the scale.

We started to head back to the port, because we had gone quite far, and looking at the scenery and the cliffs, it was easy to imagine what it must have been like to be amongst the first Europeans to come to these shores, confronted by impenetrable forest and hostile wilderness looming from above. It made quite an impression! Even now, the forests and wilderness stretch for hundreds, if not thousands of miles with no human habitation. The scale of everything is so much bigger and more formidable out here than back at home.

Safely back on dry land, and a hot drink was an essential not a luxury! Then we headed back to the Maison to help make dinner for 70. 3 million sandwiches and chopped vegetables later, and we had a pretty impressive buffet set up and a great evening in store. It's great to meet up with the other assistants from time to time, Brits, Irish, Canadians, Mexicans, Chinese and Germans and just chat about our experiences, about anything and nothing. Particularly for people who are on their own in their towns, its nice to know there are others in the same boat! It's not like in Europe where you can just get a train or bus (or even these days a cheap flight) quickly and easily - here the distances are so vast and public transport so non-existant, you can feel completely cut off, particularly if, comme moi, you live in a village that doesn't even have a grocery shop!

After a hefty meal of traditional British sandwiches (soggy cheese and tomato) we all made our way into the village to go to the bar at the youth hostel. We got into an interesting debate with some less-than-sober Parisians who were expounding the many virtues of metropolitan French, and complaining bitterly about their inability to make head or tail of Québecois. At which point I felt quite smug, as my French, although much improved, is still nowhere near the standard of a native speaker, but I find I have few difficulties now in understanding the Québecois accent and expressions. Yay for me!

The one downside to the whole weekend - I appear to have caught a cold from 3+ hours on a freezing river/ocean. Still, it gives me a chance to go to the Pharmacy tomorrow and attempt to explain and obtain the québecois equivalent of a Lemsip. Ever the optimist!

I will never complain about British public transport again.

Rural Quebec makes the most isolated parts of Britain look positively urban. Today I walked an hour and a half to get the the nearest bus stop. Then waited an hour for the bus. It's hardly surprising everyone drives over here when it's nigh on impossible to get anywhere by any other means. Especially when being a pedestrian means taking your life in your hands going head to head with the monster trucks that pass for cars. But still, I made it to the city, got me some free internet, and here I am, updating the chronicles of my life au Canada. It's been a pretty eventful week so far and the weekend is only just starting!

We had a long weekend here last weekend because of the Labo(u)r Day holiday on Monday, so on Saturday I went shopping in a real mall! Although lack of a Canadian bank account and not having been paid limited my spending somewhat. Boo hoo. Then on Sunday my landlord took me with his family up to their chalet in the mountains, to get everything ready for hunting season, or if we're going to be all franglais about it, la chasse. I got taught to fire a crossbow (in case of bears - they especially like to eat English people apparently) and drive the quad bike around the forest for a while, before we all headed back down to the village for a barbecue with yet more of my landlords extended family (they make up most of the population, so it seems). The barbecue was great, wasps and midges aside, we had home grown corn on the cob - freshly harvested and complete with complementary caterpillars, and hot dogs washed down with barrelfuls of beer. As it started to get cold the kids decided to see which items of rubbish would burn best on the campfire, with such success that we all had to stand back several feet to prevent serious burns!

The rest of the week has passed without much worthy of note, I met some more classes at school, worked out where the photocopiers were and how to use them (exciting, I know) and I walked round the village a lot to get my bearings. It didn't take long! One thing worthy of a mention perhaps is my initiation into Canadian society (and no, not just eating poutine, although this is a right of passage in itself). I got my social insurance number and opened a bank account on Thursday. And I managed the whole process in French, so I left the bank feeling pretty proud of myself and my prowess at languages. Only to be brought back down to earth when someone asked me for the time and I hadn't a clue what he wanted. I blame the accent, not my undeniable mastery of the French language.

Now I'm taking advantage of the free Wifi in the youth hostel in Old Quebec, before heading out to meet up with the other assistants. In times of celebration, we all converge on the capital for much banter and swap experiences of our respective outposts. Somewhat ironic (or perhaps inappropriate) as this weekend the Quebecers are "celebrating" the anniversary of the defeat of the city (and consequently, the whole of Canada) by the British. A strange thing for French Canadians to celebrate? We'll see. I'll let you know soon!

A bientôt!

La vie est simple. Manger. Dormir. Parler français.

The adventure continues – did our heroine make it to Quebec?

Well, the simple answer to that is yes, I did. The visa arrived, albeit 2 days after I was supposed to fly out. I ended up missing the first 2 days of the meeting in Montreal, and all the important information about getting a national insurance number so I can get paid (an ongoing saga even now, a week into working) and registering for local medical services etc. I arrived just in time to be bussed out from Montreal to Quebec city on Friday and picked up by my responsable, Martin, who I stayed with for the first few days before moving to Beaupré. Martin’s wife, Sarah, is from Ontario and speaks English, and their 3 children (adorable, even after the 100th rendition of High School Musical!) are all bilingual, so for the first 3 days I spoke next to no French whatsoever, but had a fantastic time, and made some interesting discoveries about the place I’m going to call home for the next 10 months.

My first breakfast brought with it the realisation (and the terrible quotations will continue for the next 10 months by the way!) that I wasn’t in Kansas anymore. Having poured myself a nice big bowl of yummy looking cereal, I looked around for the milk. Now, I wasn’t expecting it in a nice glass bottle like at home, I’ve travelled enough to know that the cheery morning whistle of the milkman is something almost unique to Britain these days, but I wasn’t expecting to be presented with milk in a PLASTIC BAG. A bit like the intravenous fluids in hospital, milk comes in litre bags here, but I imagine IV drips make less mess! It’s OK when the bag is less than half full, but it’s hardly practical. When I explained that we still had milk from the milkman, in glass bottles, Martin’s kids looked amazed, like I had stepped out of the pages of history.

I spent a very pleasant afternoon on the Saturday wandering around old Quebec, being touristy and attempting to practice my French. The quebecois accent certainly makes life entertaining! Even something as simple as Pas du tout! (You’re welcome/Don’t mention it) sounds like gibberish to the untrained ear – what you’ll most likely hear is Paaaan toooot! Once you get used to the fact that everyone here has their vocal cords in their nose, it’s not too bad. The extensive use of Franglais bothers me more than the grating accent. The Quebecois are, as a rule, very proud of their French heritage and particularly the more radical among them resist any English influences surrounding them from the US and the rest of Canada. When you’ve spent ages reading about the laws passed to make Quebec francophone, and the tensions surrounding the use of English, it’s somewhat disheartening to then be confronted with giant billboards advertising “The leader en nettoyage” or to find that EVERYTHING in the supermarket is labelled in both languages, despite English having no official status in the province. However, I can’t really complain as the majority of people in Beaupré, including most of the teachers at the school, speak only French, so I’m getting plenty of practice.

After I had been wandering around Quebec city for an hour or so, I began to realise that something wasn’t quite right with the cars (other than them being on the wrong side of the road, obviously) but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was different. Until I realised that it wasn’t possible for the entire population of Quebec to be driving illegal or new cars without number plates on the front. It’s often the small differences that seem to jump out at you the most in a new place. Whilst I’m on the subject of cars, I might just complain about the general driving ability of the population – they have none. The Canadian driving test might require controlled skids on black ice, but it seems lane discipline is considered less than essential. Right, left, straight up the middle, what does it matter so long as nothing is coming the other way – this seems to be something of a Quebecois driving motto. And even if something is coming the other way, Canadians have gone in for building their cars as tank-like and unmanoeuvrable as the Americans, so the other guy had better get out of the way!

Anyway, enough of my musings and back to the story at hand. I moved into the room I am renting on Monday, it’s only 5 mins walk from the school and I have TV, all my meals, a huge wardrobe (lots of space to buy new clothes!) and a bathroom, so I’m pretty much sorted. My landlord is pretty awesome too, and is always helping me with my French, which is good. I started my first official day at school on Tuesday. I have my own classroom, but it has sofas instead of desks and it’s bright purple. I also have a tiny little office off to the side of my classroom, but I prefer to sit on the sofas, they’re more comfortable. I don’t actually start teaching until the 15th, and the school timetable is organised in 2 alternating cycles of 9 days, so I only see each group once a month. It’s a shame I don’t get to see more of the students, but it does mean a lot less lesson planning, as I can use most of the material over and over again for all the different classes. I’m spending my first nine day cycle getting to know the school, getting lost looking for the staffroom (twice already), and introducing myself to the 20 different classes I have to teach. I’ve already started to get an idea of which groups are going to be the ones to watch out for! The langues-etudes students, the ones who specialise in foreign languages, are obviously much more motivated and eager to learn, and I know their lessons are going to be the most enjoyable, but if I can get the regular (and notoriously uninterested) groups to join in and learn (something, anything!), I think that will be more rewarding at the end of the day. I do like a challenge!

Beaupré itself is great. What it lacks in local amenities (like a bookshop, supermarket or public transport) it makes up for in beauty. The shadow of the mountain over the town has an almost protective air and the sound of the St Laurent river (which this far north is technically the sea, so I am told) mimics the peaceful rhythm of the town’s ebb and flow. The architecture is a bit bland, nothing to write home about, but I imagine the place comes into its own in autumn and winter, when the leaves blaze in a glory of colour before giving way to a dazzling white wonderland. I’m not a summer person, as most of my friends know, so I really can’t wait for the first snowfalls!

A bientôt!

THE Year Abroad... but will I ever get there?

As I prepared to embark on another years adventure, thousands of miles from home, I thought about turning my hand to the clichéd yet enduring work of blogging. Now, I may not be the next Bill Bryson, but at the very least my family and friends will feign interest in my musings and insights into another culture, my adventures on another continent and undoubtedly my trials, tribulations and cultural faux-pas that are certain to occur as I immerse myself in that wonderful institution of language students, The Year Abroad.

The details of this mythical right of passage, you cry? Well, here you go.

Now, most (sane) people, when choosing where to go on their year abroad, would not pick a tiny little village, nestled at the foot of a mountain, in rural Quebec. A cultural hub in France perhaps, or one of the many beautiful island territoires d'outre mer, golden sunshine and unspoilt beaches guaranteed. Instead, I chose 6 months of winter, impassable roads, no public transport and a bizzare variety of French that is sure to have my tutors and fellow classmates puzzling over what exactly it is I have just said on my return to St Andrews.

Admittedly, when I first applied to the British Council for an assistantship in Quebec, I had only a vague idea of what it would actually be like. I just knew I wanted an adventure and to me the idea of such a vast distance (2863.8 miles to be precise) cried ADVENTURE. Images of mounties and maple syrup danced through my imagination as I filled out forms and attended interviews until one day, my email inbox made that tell-tale pinging sound, and I found out where I'm going.

My destination? Beaupré, Québec. Naturally, I had no idea where this is, so out came the big guns - Wikipedia and Googlemaps. For anyone still awake and reading at this point, it's about 20km north of Quebec City, on the coast of the St Laurent river. The wikipedia article on the town is less than helpful (seriously, read it for yourself) and most guide books are annoyingly vague about the area as well. I get the feeling if it wasn't for Mont Ste-Anne, eastern Canada's highest skiing station, it wouldn't be mentioned at all. But I'll reserve judgement until I am actually there. I have a sneaking suspicion it will be quite wonderful.

My task? To teach English at the École secondaire du Mont Ste-Anne, to help the kids improve their speaking skills, to teach them about British life and culture and hopefully have a lot of fun whilst doing it. To boldly go where thousands of other language students have gone before (Sorry, couldn't resist! For future reference - I am a geek).

For now, that's all I can really say about the place or the job. All I can do now is count down the days to my departure (5) and hope my visa arrives in time. Because naturally, I would have to have some calamity or other before I even get there. Actually obtaining a visa to get into Canada is a costly, yet fairly simple, process. However, I must have broken a hall of mirrors or something recently because mine is still to arrive. The Post Office (current target of my seething rage and cursing via Facebook) appear to have "misplaced" my medical results. No medical results, no visa. No visa, no Canada. How they can manage to lose tracked mail is beyond me - as one person put it "They only have one job - to deliver - and they can't even get that right!". I wholeheartedly concurred with this statement, and began ringing customer services, the Canadian High Commission and the GP in Manchester to see about getting another set of results. So hopefully, a visa should be faxing its way to me soon (I no longer trust the Royal Mail to get it to me at all, let alone on time) and I can, as intended, fly on Sunday.

I could at this point go into a massive long rant about the Customer Torture Department at the Post Office, (apparently losing post "is not their fault") but as I've gone on for long enough, I think I'll just leave it there, and say "See you in Canada!"