I'm feeling a bit better today. It's been a rough few days but I was immeasurably cheered today by the surprise arrival of a package from a friend of mine in Melbourne. She sent me loads of cds and some bottles of aromatherapy oil (just what I need right now!). The oils are extra cool because they have been named after Godard movies! There is A bout de souffle, Le Mepris and Tout va Bien. Neat idea.

In other news, actress Scarlett Johansson has released an album. I've always loved her as an actress (most particularly in Lost in Translation of course) but when I first heard about the project I cringed. I cringed even more when I heard some of the tracks.

The album has beautiful artwork, and she's worked with some of my favourite musicians (Nick Zinner from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and TV on the Radio) but the fact is she can't sing. Because she can't sing her voice has been buried deep beneath the sounds of guitar fuzz and synthesisers. And...all the songs sound the same as a result of the treatment. Sorry Scarlett. It's too bad really.

It bugs me that so many people are making albums simply because they can. One can't help but wonder if the money to make her album had been directed to an actual real up and coming band? I won't turn this into a rant about how annoyed I am with the state of the music industry right now, which is now so manufactured and phony BUT it basically confirms what has long been suspected-that the indie scene is just as fake and company driven as Jessica Simpson and her folk.

But to talk about good music AND my delightful package, my friend has alerted me to a very cool French/German duo called Stereo Total, singing both in French, German and English (very good for the old language acquisition).

On strike until conditions improve...

I haven't been writing much lately because I haven't really been feeling that great and I never wanted this blog to become a bitch and moan kind of blog.

I had some kind of mini meltdown yesterday, the result of which was that I couldn't even go to work in the morning. I got up at the right time, had my breakfast and was about to take my shower but I just couldn't force myself to go through the rest of the motions. The idea of facing things at work was too much. It's been a hard three weeks. With all of these public holidays plus a strike the kids are behaving like animals. Even the classes I formally enjoyed teaching I now loathe with a passion. It's not even me really, the other teachers have told me they are behaving exactly the same for them as well. On Thursday night I couldn't sleep because I was so furious at the situation. Of course it's not just that, although I would say about 80 percent of my unhappiness is because of work. I've had enough of living out here in isolation without a car in this village which boasts three buses a day. The silence and lack of people around makes me feel afraid when I'm alone and I'm going out of my mind with boredom. Add to that general malaise and frustration with the language and people of this country and thus we have the beginnings of a nervous breakdown.

I don't really know what can make me feel better. I guess it's just something I have to ride out, it seems to be a process which most (not all) expats go through.

Until I have something somewhat positive to write, I'm not sure when I'll be posting next. I don't like reading blogs that are negative day in and day out and I don't want to write one like that either. Knowing me of course, I'll probably be fine next week and posting two times a day. Or still feeling bad and posting two times a day anyway.

The downward spiral

Here I was complaining about the crazy people on the bus and I'm coming to the conclusion that I'm the only one whose crazy.

The BBQ was fine, everyone was friendly and having a good time. I had Madame K with me and yet somehow I just felt terrible. At one point I even had tears welling up in my eyes when someone asked me if I knew where the plates were. I felt ashamed that I supposedly live here and I don't even know where the plates or if we have nuts. It isn't my house and I can't believe I'm been living in C's parents house for almost 9 months now. For me, the whole day I just wanted to escape, the house and the entire country.

I can't even explain it. Maybe it was the stress and build up of having these people over to my house and being prepared to be on the defense if they were unkind. Add in the fact that this whole bbq was so unorganised. In the first instance it was decided without my consultation and I didn't know what needed to be prepared and C. Not only was it organised without me, but no one let me in on what needed to be done so of course, C tried to rush everything at the last five minutes before everyone arrived. I became so overwhelmed when a whole lot of people filled the kitchen making salads because I didn't even know how to cut an endive and everyone's asking me where all the ingredients and utentsils are and not having any answers. All in all it was just stressful and I felt trapped. And I'll admit I felt guilty that I'm a person who doesn't know how to cook a thing, especially in this country, it would appear as strange.

I can't blame C's friends anymore for making me feel bad, I'm the one making myself feel that way now. They were perfectly fine. Perhaps their behaviour in the past has made me now unable to be around them without resentment. Or more likely I'm just far too sensitive and don't even know what to do with myself sometimes.

I fear that I'm on the verge of another bad cultureshock spiral. My parents will be here in two weeks and I get to play tourist with them both in Metz and Paris so I hope it will be enough to pull me out of this mood.

I had parties at my house a few times and it was never stressful. People were invited, and they turned up. End of story. I hate the fact that I'm so different here. I'm so unsure of myself and it's starting to drive me crazy. I feel like I can't tell right from left anymore.

On a more positive note..

The sunny and warm weather has been continuing unabated and I couldn't be more grateful. It's been such a long winter that I keep expecting the nice weather to have been a cruel trick and tomorrow it will be whisked away and returned to being six degrees. The visual landscape is a lot more cheery as well, the fields of dirt have magically transformed into beautiful vibrant yellow fields of canola in full bloom. People around here are less fond of the smell however. You can't really smell it unless you're driving or walking right past the fields but it does smell a little bit like someone who hasn't washed in awhile.

Finally got around to dropping off my dossier at the mairie. I hope it's processed quickly and without a problem. If everything goes well and it's accepted I think the next steps will be having a scary interview at the police station followed by a 2 day culture stage and then hopefully I will finally get into the free French courses offered by the mairie. Fingers crossed!

Loaded BBQ

Whenever hanging out with C's friends I always feel a certain amount of anxiety or trepidation beforehand. The evening can go in so many different directions. It could be surprisingly fun, or it could be completely boring depending on how much or how little I can understand and whether I'm ignored or included. It can also be strewn with stinging jellyfishes, resulting in sudden uncontrollable urges to buy a plane ticket back to Australia and face the real poisonous jellyfish instead of the proverbial.

The weekend that goes down in history as the worst weekend of my life was in Lyon a few months ago. Worse things have happened to me, but for some reason this weekend was like excruciating hell for me therefore winning the grand prize of being the 'worst weekend of life'.

Actually if I recollect more clearly, it was more like a week of hell. It started off with a friend of C's from Paris visiting. On other meetings he'd always been very kind and nice so I was surprised by the number of horrible little jibes he kept throwing my way. You have all heard about the famous shoes comment "Why do you wear those shoes? I really hate these shoes, I think they are so ugly. I can't understand why everyone is crazy for this kind of shoe" amongst the other gems he uttered that week. Throughout the weekend this friend of C's took every opportunity to make me feel like an idiot. Even an innocent comment like "I'm surprised how the stars are so much brighter here than Australia" was turned into "You do know we're in a different hemisphere?" and started explaining like I was a five year old about how the world turns. Thankfully I've forgotten most of his comments, but I do remember that it was constant, but always unexpected and veiled enough as jokes that I had no way to respond so I just stood there open mouthed each time.

When this guy found out how pissed off I was, the next time I saw him he tried to make it up to me by being overly friendly and even gave me a present. Apology accepted, but I find it hard to forget these kinds of things. If ridiculing others is the humour of France then I'm not sure I want to live here. That same weekend, C's friends from Grenoble made fun of that guy about his jacket. Rather than feel victorious that it was now his turn to be ridiculed, I felt disgusted how people picked on others appearance to make them feel insecure and joke about them. I guess I'm being culturally intolerant but that just isn't funny to me, it's cruel and I don't want any part of it. Sure I make fun of people walking by on the street, people I don't know and who can't hear my comments. It's a far cry from telling your supposed dear friend that they look like shit in what they're wearing.

A few days later in Lyon. The purpose of the trip was because C's band was playing. I developed the cold from hell so I didn't want to go but C begged me and stressed that his friends from Grenoble were expecting me and really wanted to meet me and how nice they were. They have always sounded like delightful people so I decided to go. The delightful people ignored me completely following the first introduction. Because C was off doing sound check's and what not I spent pretty much an entire evening alone but in the same room as these two people refused to have anything to do with me. I was starting to feel like a complete emotional wreck. I was at the peak of my worst period of first round culture shock and I felt like I was having a nervous breakdown. I kept having to walk around the corner to release my angry tears. I decided that night I was finished with France. What turned it all around was that the bookstore owner of where the gig was, suddenly came up to me and was positively the nicest person ever. He obviously could see I was upset and went to great lengths to talk to me and try and include me in things. His friend, whose house we stayed at was also incredibly friendly and lovely. So, I decided that these two friends of C's were just twats and so here I still am.

I talk a lot about wanting to be friends with French people and wanting to integrate, but sometimes the price seems a little high. By nature I'm an insecure person and being around people that bring out others insecurities as a way to dominate and ridicule I really cannot abide. Granted, these are French people aged between 35-45, I have hopes that someday I'll meet more people in their 20s and I'll notice a generational difference in attitude.

The two people from Grenoble are coming for a BBQ this Monday and I'm just dreading seeing them. I don't even know if it's them so much but just everything they represent. That horrible weekend, how I felt so rejected and abandoned by C and like there was something seriously wrong with me for people to treat me like I was scum. In a way it's like highschool all over again. I'm the nerd no one wants to speak to. I get so tired of having to prove myself to others. I wonder if I'm overreacting or not taking cultural differences into account. So I don't know.

Thankfully, Madame K is coming to the BBQ too. Madame K has that confident aura about her that I really envy, it makes people show respect because of that 'don't fuck with me or I'll fuck with you' vibe that she radiates (not in an aggresive way however, she's just got natural confidence and secretly I think the French are very insecure so they are intimidated by that). So she's my protector in case I find myself speechless when stung by a jellyfish.

Maybe it will be a raging success, everyone will be friendly and speak to me and all will be forgotten. Maybe. I have hope, but I try not to think too unrealistically.

Angry Bus Commuters

To get home I take a special bus which goes to all the villages, eventually going all the way to the German frontier. Our village is one of the first or second stops, 20 minutes away from Metz centreville. The only people that take this bus can be classified into the following categories:

a) teenagers
b) the elderly
c) crazy people
d) drunks (in particular one gentlemen who goes into town to get drunk, then brings back a whole bunch of bottles of alcohol and calls everyone he sees 'Capitaine').

Let's just say the passengers consist of a motley bunch. The bus drivers are also on the eclectic side and I've had a fair few run ins with some of them.

A few months ago the bus driver was a young woman with a serious anger problem. She once held up the bus from taking off for a good 10 minutes because she was yelling (no exaggeration) at a guy trying to get on the bus. All I could fathom was that he didn't have the right change. I was yelled at several times by this woman, and I once yelled back at her because she made me say the destination at least five times. 'Retonfey' 'Quoi?' 'Retonfey' Quoi?' 'RETONFEYYYY!'. Then she understood. On another occasion she nastily said 'oh you understand today', using the familiar tu. Once she wasn't going to give me a ticket because I gave her 3.20 instead of 3.15. The other normal bus drivers accept notes of 10 euros so she was just a cow, frankly. She seemed as though she was on the verge of a shooting spree, her pent up rage was visibly starting to pour out. She vanished after a few weeks. I was slightly disappointed because I thought it would be funny to spring a 20 euro note on her and see her head explode like the fembots in Austin Powers.

Last week a new driver stopped at the wrong section of the bus stop, quickly picked someone up, and before I could get on the bus, drove off. I had to wait another hour to take the next one. I couldn't believe it. I was RIGHT THERE and he just took off. It reminded me of a time in Melbourne when I was at the tram stop and the tram went past without stopping (because it was really late). When it was stopped at the red light I managed to catch up with it and demanded why he didn't stop for me. 'because you were wearing headphones'. Yeah, good one! Anyway, when the bus driver came back an hour later, he didn't stop at my bus stop where I was meant to get off and drove me right to the end of the village which took me an extra 15 minutes to walk home. It wouldn't have been a big deal except I'd spent hours waiting for the damn bus. As soon as I missed the stop I told him and he just ignored me until he drove right to the end!

Today on the bus a passenger and the bus driver (again a different one) ended up in a fierce argument. This time though, it seems the passenger was just bonkers. He usually takes it every day and has so far seemed normal. But today he flipped out totally and they were in a huge argument and yelling at each other the whole way. I couldn't really grasp what the original argument was about because I had had my ipod on for the start of it but the bus driver was telling him to shut up and get off the bus if he wasn't happy. The guy kept insulting him (and also calling him tu). Then he started miming punching the driver (I can't really explain how he was doing this, but it was really crazy looking). Towards the end a teenage passenger came and sat next to the crazy guy and whispering fiercely to him to try to make him settle down.

I told C we have to move as quickly as possible or someone's going to kill me on the bus one day, either the driver or the passenger. And I won't even go into how many close calls the bus has had with cars. You'd think a big huge bus would be easy to see but somehow drivers stray right onto their path.

How to make slow or next to no progress in learning French:

1. Teach English so you spend large amounts of time speaking and thinking about English and spend hours designing lesson plans two-three times a week, ensuring all free time is dedicated to English rather than French.

2. Watch films primarily in English, without accompanying French subtitles.

3. Consult your home country's local newspaper online every day, even though the news is no longer relevant to you. When feeling guilty, instead of reading French newspapers read tabloidish Expatica version of French news in English.

4. Listen frequently to the BBC World Service.

5. Read English novels every night.

6. Hang around with English speakers and do not attempt to engage French people in conversation that is not in English.

7. Do not practice French everyday.

8. Rely on significant other for assistance in all areas of life that include any kind of language exchanges.

9. Speak English with significant other.

Perhaps I'm exaggerating a little, but I am guilty of these things sometimes if not all of the time. I've been having a particularly bad fortnight where I've done zero French study. And myskype lessons have wrapped up so until the mairie gives me the green light for free lessons, it's up to me. I've been here for 9 months now and I can well and truly say that I am nowhere near being immersed in French language and culture. And while teaching English as an occupation does throw an obstacle into trying to learn French as fast as possible, I really have no one to blame but myself for my lack of linguistic progress. With technology it's amazing how one can insulateoneself into an anglophone realm and shut out the francophone world. It's not that staying in touch is a bad thing, but I do find it pathetic that I'm still reading the Age.

How to make quick progress in French:

1. If have to teach English (I have to) do all lesson plans for the week on one set day, therefore freeing up the mind from thinking about English all the time.

2. Watch films in French.

3. Read French newspapers online instead of home country's.

4. Listen to French radio and podasts.

5. Try reading books in French, even if it means consulting wordreference.com every three words.

6. Try to make more effort with French people.

7. Practice French everyday.

8. Make rule to only speak in French to significant other.

9. Be more independent, even if it means linguistic humiliation.

10. Organise as many language exchanges with people as possible. Not only is it free French lessons but it's practice for future teaching English to adults.

It all sounds terribly simple...but somehow...it's not. It's like going on a diet or breaking a bad habit...don't they say it takes just 30 days to break a bad habit? I wonder if I'm up to the challenge. I can't even think of a 'reward' to keep me going. I wish a pill existed to increase my motivation..