So 2-3 weekends ago was Les journees du patrimoine. Once a year, most museums in France are free for this weekend. There are a lot of cultural activities and its a big event. My friend Sasha and I decided to take advantage and go to Le Palais Rohan in town, which has 3 museums inside. There is the Musee des Beaux-Arts, the Musee des Arts Decoratifs, and the Musee Archeologique. The archeological museum has got to be one of the worst museums I've ever seen. There was really crappy insignificant pottery and skelletons laying in coffins inlaid in the floor. Good thing I didn't waste my money on that.
After, we decided to head over to the cathedral. Strasbourg is famous for its cathedral. We thought we would climb to the top. Well I'm not exactly the biggest fan of heights. I got about a third of the way up before I really started to freak out. I made it to this part of the climb where you had to shimmy across a ledge to get to the rest of the staircase. The ledge was probably 15-20 feet long and 2 feet wide. You overlook the little park next to the cathedral. At this point in time I am hyperventilating and there is a German dude laughing at me. Thanks man. Karma's coming for you. I tried to look for the staircase going down. There was no other staircase but the one I came up. So what did I do? I promptly got my butt down that same staircase. There were some people who stopped and asked me "Ferme?" which means "closed" in French. I was like "Non, je n'aime pas le..." and I made a hand gesture that indicated heights. They nodded their head and smiled and let me down the staircase. When I finally made it back to the ground, the lady at the ticket desk just smiled and showed me where the door was. I didn't care what people thought of me at that point in time. I was ready to kiss the ground.
My battle with heights doesn't end there though. The weekend after, my school group had a trip through Alsace, the region of France that I live in. We went to Mt. Saint Odile, which as you can determine is a mountain. Let's just say I ended up holding my French professor's hand so I wouldn't freak out.
Now, to switch gears, I started my internship at a local lycee (high school) last week. I am teaching English to 16-17 year olds. I get my own classroom (!) and everything. Last week and today (I have 2 different classes) were just days where the students asked me questions about myself. One of the questions made me laugh. Someone asked me how tall I was. It was quite weird. Also, in each class I had some of the boys ask me if I had a boyfriend. I have 16 year old French boys hitting on me...great. Anyways, starting Wednesday the teacher is giving me half the class to do whatever I want. It's a lot of responsibility but I am very excited. Some of the students have started to Facebook message and friend me because I want to take them to see an American movie one weekend.
Anyways, French schools are totally different than American schools. They go to class from 8am-6pm, with 2 hours for lunch (I think). They also go to school on Saturday mornings. I nearly choked when I heard this. It must be horrible to be a French teenager! Also, the school is in horrible shape. Besides the one new building that they have, which is pretty nice, the rest of the school is bad. It looks like what I imagine an inner city school to look like. Dim lighting, peeling paint, only chalkboards. I really feel like they could film a horror film there. Not a place to hang out after dark, that's for sure. Apparently though, they have state of the art science laboratories. Science is one of the specialties of this school. People keep telling me to take a tour of the labs. I don't really want to, but there is a cute chemistry teacher that if I see him again, I might ask him for a tour. But that is another story.
I spent this past weekend in Burgundy with the group. I can't do anymore group tours. There are way too many people in our group (38) and we end up staying at really podunk (had to get that word it. It makes me feel American lol) places with bugs and bunk beds and stuff. I do not do hostels. Do I seem like the kind of person who likes roughing it? Uh no. Wait, let me rephrase that. HELL no. I like air conditioning and clean sheets and places that aren't situated next to a bunch of cows.
I tasted wine this weekend. I hate wine. It was horrible. I also climbed a mountain. Not kidding. We took an ancient pilgrammage route to this big basillica in Vezelay. The climb was killer. I'm never freaking hiking again. At least the church was pretty. I'm sure I will post pictures at some point in time, but right now I have a large paper that I haven't started yet it is due in exactly one week. Smart planning Amanda...smart.
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