That’s Santas’ little saw, mon ami
My month began with the CELTA course (certificate in english language teaching adults). I taught English to a group of ultra-suave middle-aged parisians. The fact that I spoke only a minimum of French was a major stumbling block. How could they have the requisite respect for a language teacher who had not mastered the master language? Anyway I survived the perfect infinitive and conditional imperative, and developed my ability to mime and gesture abstract concepts (a handy pub skill).
Despite the minus temperatures and black-as-night early morning starts, I am persisting with my walks (now brisk and punctuated by expletives to the Gods of Winter) through the magnificently ambient and pensively skeletal forest of the Jardin du Luxembourg.
The recent French classes have been wonderful. The cacophony of gibberish sound puzzles are beginning to dissolve into recognisable pieces, that fit and work together, and sound like music, and sometimes come together without forethought.
The holiday season sees Paris illuminated in every corner. Today we took a train to the nearby sleepy town of Noissel to hike through a forest along the river bank. Swans pleaded for bread, snow kissed our faces, and the locals continued to cycle and fish.
We have a few days left, with a champagne picnic planned for the 31st on the Pont des Art before settling into a smokey jazz club to breathe in the new year.
I fly to Sydney, arrving on the 5th of January for a couple of weeks re-cuperation, re-heating, and re-application for a French working visa before flying back to Paris for 2006.
Tags: Paris, France
Jyai