Good thing I planned to be early, because the bus was not running! Thanks to the strike, of course. I walked the 40 minutes to school (and was frozen! BRR!) - and apparently this is unusual behavior - the teachers reported that many students were absent due to the lack of buses. If only I'd known, I could have played hooky! ;) I was really trying to do my work. But when my class hour (written on my rough-draft schedule) came around, none of the English teachers had told me I was to work with their class, so I still had no idea which students I was supposed to be working with, or where. I went to look for them, but did not find them, and did not find someone to ask...where was everyone? Don't they want me to work? Why didn't anyone let me in on the plans?
At a loss, I went to see the secretary who had summoned me for some paperwork. She was out to lunch. I had been told that a certain Mme. P., who works at the high school, might have information about host families, and so it seemed a good time to visit her. She was in a meeting. I didn't want to just leave without having done anything, so I sent an email to Mitch from the staff room, and still no one came to look for me, and still I had nothing to do.
I went back to the secretary, and took care of the paperwork. I went back to Mme. P., and met her, introduced myself and explained that I was hoping to find a host family and had heard she knew things. (I have been planning to get an apartment by myself, I'd resigned myself to that and made it a concrete option this week by visiting real estate agents. Only then did I started hearing things about host families, and I just knew that I needed to wait out this week before committing to an apartment.) To my surprise, it wasn't that Mme. P. knew host families - hers was the host family! She asked who had told me about her (I think it was one of the English teachers), and said that they had room for me. I had expected more difficulties, and no straight answers--so I was taken by surprise that she seemed perfectly willing to offer me houseroom! She wanted to make sure that staying with them was what I really wanted, and asked me to come spend a weekend and see how it went.
She began telling me about her family: She has three grown sons who no longer live at home, and she and her husband have four adopted daughters from Cambodia, ranging from 5 to 14 years old. So, she warned me, "It is girly at our house - your room would be pink." Not a problem for me! :) They also have three huskies, and live in a small village. I would be able to ride into school with her or her husband, and she reassured me that she wouldn't want me to feel stuck - I could get a ride to the nearby train station and go from there, or I could even borrow her car to go into town. She wanted me know that she respected everyone's different beliefs (her Muslim friends, her Buddhist daughters, her Jewish-background husband). There was also one special thing she told me I ought to know - her husband was a member of the humanitarian organization that got into governmental trouble for trying to save/adopt children after the 2004 Asian tsunami. (Google it!) Crazy, huh? This fact weirded me out a little - but, she assured me her husband would never try to hurt children, he just wanted to help - and it looks like the group's intentions were good ones. I imagine that they are big-hearted and passionate people. And a bit eccentric - she also mentioned that he might wear a kilt. I'm planning to spend the weekend with them after I return from my fabulous Italian adventure with HH, and I'll see how I like being there.
Speaking of our vacation...That reminds me of my other plans for the day. After walking back from school, I continued on my way toward the bank and train station. I saw smoke rising...bad sign. The post office bank was closed. I almost turned back, but then I remembered I had to check to see if trains were scheduled to run to Lyon tomorrow. On I continued, toward the smoke. It was people striking, of course. They had little flags, and a bonfire, and were dancing and chanting. I didn't take a close-up because being to close to rowdy, yelling people made me nervous...but here are a couple pictures I've collected of "la grève" in the small town of Châlons-en-Champagne.
At the train station, I was informed that there is "rien" (nothing) that will take me to Lyon tomorrow. Not from Châlons. Not from Paris. Not from Dijon. So, Helen Hunter and I have cancelled the Lyon/French Alps leg of our trip. We still plan to head to Paris and be there to catch our flight out on Tuesday. Au revoir, la France! Never thought I'd be happy to leave it, but I'm so glad we decided to leave the country for this trip. When we come back, the strike should be over and done with...whew. That's the plan, anyway! ;)
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