First day of school

I started my language course this afternoon.  Two hours and 15 minutes of concentration and scribbling and talking of course!  The teacher, Jean, is a man of about 60 with mad grey hair sticking out at all angles.  He punctuates his conversation and advice with whistles, noises and grimaces and wild hand gestures.  It has the weird effect of making me feel quite relaxed.  It wasn't possible to tell how the others found him, though at some point when everyone loosens up we may discuss this strange teaching technique.    The others are a Brazilian PhD student (female), a Spanish PhD student (female), an American male who works as a journalist on a business website, an Australian male (the most shy and taciturn Australian I have ever met) who works for a Japanese company of architects and doesn't make eye contact and a Spanish lad looking for work as a hairdresser .   So an interesting mix.  Also a mix of abilities.  The two young women are good at expressing themselves and stringing sentences together but their accents are terrible.  They mangle all the sounds they make.  The three men are stumbling and shy and have great difficulty in building up a head of steam.  Maybe they will gather momentum as the weeks go on.   I made plenty of mistakes, but apparently my accent is very, very good and Jean couldn't believe I hadn't done any French since school.  Sorry, but I have to boast about that!  I think I owe a lot to my French teacher at school, the lovely Miss Thompson, with her delicate moustache and tweed suits.

I have accumlated at the end of the first session, 5 pages of notes of my own and 4 handouts and 2 sheets of homework!  We covered a lot of ground and Jean is very good at correcting people in the nicest possible way and making extended teaching points from our mistakes.

Of course I should mention that I am old enough to be the mother of everyone in the class and probably the grandmother of one! 

Peter had a good first day also, lots of meetings and struggling with the IT, always a chore in a new office.

While he was on his way home I made supper. The pieces of turkey did indeed make a good casserole with some shallots, garlic, tomatoes, harissa and paprika.  I'm beginning to learn what is possible in the tiny kitchen with limited cooking utensils and pots and pans.  We have abandoned the dishwasher under the oven which doesn't work very well and are washing and drying up after each meal.  Just like the old days!

And tomorrow I start Aquagym at the local swimming pool!  Ah, la vie Parisienne!