Saying Goodbye

Saying goodbye to Tours, I wanted to write a post on some of the things I have done during my time here that haven’t warranted a post, but made up my life as I lived here.

These include:

Feminist List

I’ve been reading Caitlin Moran’s book, How to be a Woman, and the overwhelming message is that it’s great to be a woman. That feminism is exactly what you want it to be. It’s about taking all the bits you like about being a woman and having the choice to not do things just because someone else says so. It’s about doing whatever you like, reaping the benefits of being a woman. Looking at a situation and asking yourself: is it patriarchy that is telling me to do this? Am I doing this out of some consideration that it is a female’s place?

So, I am feminist. I love being a woman. Scratch that, I love being a person. I love my squishy bits and my tendency to cry at the drop of a hat and I like the way my hips move and my brain does math and eyes are blue. In loving myself as a person and a woman in this way, I am perfectly justified in believing in equality. Because that is feminism, idiots. No sarcasm, no irony, no fear of being aligned with a shouty self-righteous unwashed, unsexed prude. That is not feminism. Although, let’s be honest, I am shouty, unwashed and unsexed at the moment (I’m living on a boat with my parents, far away from my boyfriend).

Why six months is enough + Teacher worship

In Tours, I spent around six and a half months. Twenty-nine weeks. Twenty-three of them I had school. I worked three or four days a week. Twelve hours- or less- as the last few weeks of tests and school trips and changes in schedule have taught me. I do not mark homework-or any kind of work. And I love it. I love this job. I love talking to the students, getting to know them, hearing the silly things they say, getting excited that they can finally conjugate properly or know that you have to say ‘I am sixteen,’ instead of ‘I have sixteen’. It’s awesome, amazing and fun. And I am good at it. Yes, it helps in a giant class of boys that I am a twenty-two year old female. Yes, when I tell them to be quiet, they listen more than they listen to their other teachers. But I have had these same teachers tell me how good I am with them.

Les Fumeurs

One thing that I was both expected and surprised by in France was the number of smokers. It’s very European, I get that. Very French. But I didn’t imagine the level. I didn’t even think about the students. That I work in a place where sixteen year olds roll their cigarettes as they walk down the stairs after class. That only one person in a class of fifteen year olds has never smoked before. At home, you walk around, and second hand smoke almost doesn’t exist. Here, it’s a constant. And the number of smokers is rising. Five years after the smoking bans in public buildings, bars and clubs were put in place, the precent of smokers has risen.

Portugal

Porto + Lisbon

Harrowing taxi rides. Freak outs over baggage. Near panic attack on the plan. I think I came close to killing Tild and myself that morning with all my stress.

And we arrived in Porto.