Happy Birthday to Me!

It’s my birthday!  It’s the second one I’ve spent in France: my first time “studying abroad” in Grenoble fell over my 17^th birthday, and my host family made a sign for me with my name spelled “Bekkie,” and we had chocolate cake for breakfast.  Rockin’.  This time, I had planned a weekend-long birthday celebration including the obligatory trip to the pub and even an appearance at a boȋte/French nightclub, but my plans got all jumbled up.  After going to Caen, I did end up going to the pub, but so did all the English students and their correspondents, and none of my teachers were available to even out the score, so I left relatively early.  Saturday night, Valérie hosted a going away party for the Huddersfield English teachers, so I treated that as a pseudo birthday party in my head.  But then when I walked by the pub on Sunday morning on my way home from the marché, I learned that it was closed until April 6^th, so no real party at the pub.  Oh well.  Best laid plans, and all that.  And to boot, I woke up the morning I turned 25 with an achy hip.  So, RAMBL, I guess my hash tag would be #25or55.

But I did have chocolate cereal in the morning on my birthday, so nyah.

However, my day at school started off on a rather awkward foot.  When I walked into the teachers’ lounge that morning, a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday” in English greeted me, along with blah-blah-blahs from the non-English speakers, and then I received bisous from all my English teachers.  Karine remarked, “It’d be a nice touch if you could give us a little tear.”  I was close.

I waited in the teachers’ lounge at 8 AM for my first teacher of the day.  Nothing.  So I went upstairs to see if he was already there.  Nothing.  The students asked if monsieur was there, and I could only shrug.  I sent some students down to see if he had called in and forgot to tell me, and when they came skipping back, I knew he had called off.  Great, I could’ve slept in on my birthday.  Boo.

I treated myself to my usual bike to and run around the lake before returning to the school to join everyone for lunch, and the day continued.  I guess word had gotten out that it was the English assistant’s birthday, and one of the classes that likes to make fun of my accent when I speak French laid off on the jokes today.  Then the same class that I recording singing “Happy Birthday” to my friend Mandy sang the song to me in a mix of English and French that was entirely endearing.  After that class, Catherine was actually rushed to get out of her room and down to the teachers’ lounge for the recré/break and her tea.  “We have to hurry!” she kept saying.  “We don’t have much time for break!”

Hmm.  Interesting.

When I entered the teachers’ lounge, the first thing I saw was the “Joyeux Anniversaire” garland strung across the windows and the wall adjacent.  And then there was the massive spread of food on the tables: a plate of cookies, a tin of chocolate, a Tupperware of candy, about seven types of juice, and an honest-to-God, homemade lemon layer cake.

So much for having to buy pastries at Carrefour!

They sang another round of “Happy Birthday” before simultaneously digging into the cake and handing me presents, something I definitely didn’t expect in any sense of the word.  They gifted me a beautiful card as well as a key ring, ring, and set of earrings.  “They’re handmade!” Karine explained, nearly bursting with pride that she found something I like. She apparently bought them from the wife of one of our colleagues; we were supposed to visit her to buy her handmade jewelry sometime in the future.  “And she said we can go and you can pick out anything you like and she’ll make it!”

“They’re unique,” Lydia added, not quite successfully biting back a grin at our obvious enthusiasm.  “A real souvenir from France.”

Jewelry and pretty and unique and French?  Jackpot!

Icing on the cake (literally)?  My literature class the next hour was cancelled, so I got to hang out with my teachers and eat as much cake and chocolate as I wanted without having to rush off.

Karine invited me to a movie that night at The Kid, and even though it was only an environmentalist documentary — something I’m not opposed to on principle, but not something I would rush out and see — she said I would like it as it was “typiquement français.”  Tous Au Larzac was indeed typically French, as it chronicled the fight of this tiny farming community in the south of France against the state’s desire to expand the local military war games fields.  Karine kept making comments throughout the film, especially about the person snoring across the aisle from us, so all in all, thoroughly entertaining and a fitting end to my 25^th birthday: strange, slightly off-kilter, but still enjoyable.

Addendum: I received a cute card from my grandpa for my birthday on my birthday, which was wonderful.  RAMBL has been sending me postcards for the past month, but I’m still missing a couple, and I think it’s due to the recent mail strike happening around the Sarthe department.  But I’m gradually completing my puzzle, and I should have a picture up soon!

In addition, I teach the cutest teenagers of all time.  After my only class on Wednesday, I spent a minute or so discussing the documentary the class was watching with Nathalie (A Class Divided, if anyone is wondering), and when I left their classroom to go to my own and gather my stuff, a couple of my students were waiting for me outside.  One of them hesitantly said, “Becky, I heard it was your birthday yesterday.”

It took me a second to respond.  How did he know?  Is my life really that amusing?  Nah, this town is just really that cute.  “Actually, it was Monday, but yes.”

He shook his head; clearly he hadn’t remembered the words ‘day before yesterday.’  “I would like to give you some musics — some French musics — if you like.  I don’t know when, but would you like them?”  He and two of his friends, probably around for moral support, stopped with my in front of my room.

Melt!  “Of course!  If you want, you can tell me what kind of music you guys like and I can try to make a CD.”  They looked at me blankly.  “Vous comprennez?”  They nodded, so they understood.  Guess they just didn’t expect something in return: a real present!

Then today in one of my other classes that’s an absolute joy (and breeze) to teach, they all sing-songed, “Happy birthday,” as they filed into my classroom, and when they left, one of them presented me with a handmade card.  Melt again!  She walked out of the room jokingly telling her classmates that she was going to be a star in America because she draws flowers so well.

Le sigh.  Although I definitely miss my friends and family, La Flèche has certainly worked hard to make itself my second family.