I'm trying to think of how long back I have to reach to remember the first time I learned about Thanksgiving. In preschool maybe, was when we started drawing pilgrim hats and making hand print turkeys. Or what about those "history lessons" in elementary school, where the teachers spoon fed us silly nonsense about the Indians helping the poor weak colonists survive, and that they all sat down and ate together to celebrate the harvest. Does anyone know the true history behind Thanksgiving? Time to wikipedia that stuff.
Well bringing Thanksgiving to Reunion Island was quite the affair. What originally was going to be a 7 person dinner on Thursday night ended up being a 23 person event on a Friday evening that lasted until the rain came around 1:30 in the morning. As stressed as I was about being somewhat abandoned by my housemates, who the day before told me they weren't coming at all, what terrified me most was the idea of cooking an entire turkey, with no American support whatsoever. Worse, Dominique and I took the huge bird home, and attempted to shove it into the oven, (it just barely fit), and things started falling apart: the broth spilled into the oven, the turkey leg got stuck on the door, the pan fell....
Dominique yelled in desperation, "This bird terrifies me! I'm just going to cut it in half!!" Fortunately for the turkey Marlene and Yolene showed up just in the nick of time to save the day, with tin foil and expertise that way outshone Dominique and mine....
After 3 days of cooking, and 12 hours of labor on Friday, we had a sort of improvised version of Thanksgiving: "patates douces" instead of sweet potatoes, chicken broth instead of turkey giblets and drippings, red berries with cinnamon and orange zest instead of cranberry sauce....but my friend Sylvain saved the day, when he showed up with two packets of jumbo sized marshmallows. I took the liberty of eating all the pink ones which weren't fit for sweet potatoes. The final touch: Home made, and when I mean home made, I mean completely from scratch, pumpkin pie.
The moment came when everyone crowded around the food, and demanded for an explanation. I tried the best I could, (apparently it matched up with their Wikipedia research), and said, "This is a special holiday where we give thanks for what we have, and cherish a moment with our family." The words rang true enough for me, I could only hope that they would make the food taste good. Sylvain cut the turkey, all the plates were filled, and we ate to good ol' Norah Jones. To my surprise, the marshmallowed sweet potatoes disappeared before the regular ones, and people went back for seconds.
Everyone looked so happy, and I got numerous rounds of applause for no apparent reason, and more compliments on my cooking skills than I have ever had in my life. Everyone was pleased to have a little bit of American cooking in their life, and were pleased to discover that it's not just Mac Donald's that we eat all the time. Finally, we switched the music back to Reunion ciga, and I danced in the center of the circle with one of the dads, showing off my new skills. I owed so much of the meal to Dominique and Marlene, of course, who helped me get the shopping, and cooked with me. Dominique and I were so worried, but we just kept dancing like maniacs in the kitchen, laughing all the way. It was nice to share Thanksgiving with my new friends, new family, and indeed, it was the best Thanksgiving away from home, ever.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Time for a belated update
I know it has been a while since I updated, and I must tell you about one of my highlights on the island thus far - It all happened when I returned to Dominique's classroom, where a student was waiting patiently with a notebook with scrawled out English....which turned out to be questions for me: Miss Laura, have you done a tour of the island yet? Answer: Not yet, but I would like to!
Question 2: Would you like to do a tour with my mother and me?
Answer: Really? (well, that's what I was thinking, no way this could be happening, right?) But the real answer was a "yes," that came out awkward because I was surprised.
Well the big day came, and up came a van, with three girls from my school, plus one mother! It was rather comical to see the girls pull open the door for me, and squish into the back, with their English dictionaries poised on their laps. The girls at this point had no idea that I spoke French, but later on I slipped when we met up with their mother's friends from "Metropole," who had an extended conversation with me about travels, jobs, etc. "AH!! Elle parle francais!!!!" They cried, all shocked, with a look that made me feel like I had just ruined Christmas. But then we all laughed, and they became even more determined to talk in English. Not once did I speak to them in French.
It's moments like these where I feel glad to be a teacher. Sure, in class these students probably don't learn much from what I give them to work with, but it's outside experiences like these that are exciting for everyone involved. I got to see a window into their world, see some incredible places that I hadn't seen yet, and have a wonderful afternoon with 3 13 year old girls who showed me that there are some students who can hold their own in another language, and have the desire and determination to look up every word in the dictionary for 10 hours straight.
Question 2: Would you like to do a tour with my mother and me?
Answer: Really? (well, that's what I was thinking, no way this could be happening, right?) But the real answer was a "yes," that came out awkward because I was surprised.
Well the big day came, and up came a van, with three girls from my school, plus one mother! It was rather comical to see the girls pull open the door for me, and squish into the back, with their English dictionaries poised on their laps. The girls at this point had no idea that I spoke French, but later on I slipped when we met up with their mother's friends from "Metropole," who had an extended conversation with me about travels, jobs, etc. "AH!! Elle parle francais!!!!" They cried, all shocked, with a look that made me feel like I had just ruined Christmas. But then we all laughed, and they became even more determined to talk in English. Not once did I speak to them in French.
It's moments like these where I feel glad to be a teacher. Sure, in class these students probably don't learn much from what I give them to work with, but it's outside experiences like these that are exciting for everyone involved. I got to see a window into their world, see some incredible places that I hadn't seen yet, and have a wonderful afternoon with 3 13 year old girls who showed me that there are some students who can hold their own in another language, and have the desire and determination to look up every word in the dictionary for 10 hours straight.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Island fever? Not yet!
Before coming to Reunion Island, I had my fears and qualms. Would I be a good teacher? Would I make friends? Would I get restless and want to swim ashore to get off this tiny speck on an island? Well, there's a reason why it's best to show up to a new place without expectations. Sure, I still have my worries about doing a good job (as well I should, it keeps me on my toes), but I still haven't yet hit a case of "island fever," where my head tells me "run away! It's too small!"
And Reunion Island really is small. I laugh about it, but it is ironic how my commute every morning covers over a quarter of the west coast of the island. Or how in one day you can easily do a tour de l'ile, with a hike up to the volcano to boot, and still get home for dinner at a reasonable hour. The best part is what I like to call a "walk around town." I usually make fun of my friends who have lived on the island for sometime, or their whole lives that they know EVERYONE. Even Dominique who claims to hide in her house all day long has to stop every few minutes to say hi to old students, good friends, or relatives.
I went on a walk last night to grab some pizza with my friends, who stopped at the base of our driveway to say hi to friends wandering by (I swear this piece of pavement is where everyone runs into everyone, like magic). I was about to tease them about it, when halfway through my sentence I saw two smiling faces that I recognized from salsa class. Oh, hi! I replied, giving the traditional bisous (one kiss on each cheek, it's very French), just in time to see Jerome, my neighbor, walking towards me. "Salut, Laura, ca va?" Needless to say Benjamin and Joe started snickering. "Now you KNOW everyone, Laura," laughed Ben, as we walked by dozens more of his surfer friends that greeted us noisily in Creole. Well, there are worse things in life. I guess this is what happens when you live on an island.
And Reunion Island really is small. I laugh about it, but it is ironic how my commute every morning covers over a quarter of the west coast of the island. Or how in one day you can easily do a tour de l'ile, with a hike up to the volcano to boot, and still get home for dinner at a reasonable hour. The best part is what I like to call a "walk around town." I usually make fun of my friends who have lived on the island for sometime, or their whole lives that they know EVERYONE. Even Dominique who claims to hide in her house all day long has to stop every few minutes to say hi to old students, good friends, or relatives.
I went on a walk last night to grab some pizza with my friends, who stopped at the base of our driveway to say hi to friends wandering by (I swear this piece of pavement is where everyone runs into everyone, like magic). I was about to tease them about it, when halfway through my sentence I saw two smiling faces that I recognized from salsa class. Oh, hi! I replied, giving the traditional bisous (one kiss on each cheek, it's very French), just in time to see Jerome, my neighbor, walking towards me. "Salut, Laura, ca va?" Needless to say Benjamin and Joe started snickering. "Now you KNOW everyone, Laura," laughed Ben, as we walked by dozens more of his surfer friends that greeted us noisily in Creole. Well, there are worse things in life. I guess this is what happens when you live on an island.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Hurricanes, volcanoes, and sharks, oh my!
So, the moment we've been waiting for has arrived. At 9 PM last night, the volcano erupted. Before you start to panic, let me assure you that I live nowhere near said volcano, and that the lava will not attack our little bungalow and smother it into burning bits. It's just exciting to think that somewhere on this island something really exciting is happening, and that at least we are nearby. However we haven't noticed smoke, or ash, since today it was raining, off and on, pretty hard.
Which is apparently unusual for November. Rain like that sometimes means that a hurricane might hit soon. Our neighbor Olivier was over again, and as we talked to him about "cyclones" he eyed our bungalow with and expression that made me really nervous. Decidedly we'll end up next door with the girls who have an actual apartment, if anything serious ever happens. I don't think our little plywood shack is up for a good storm. But rest assured, it sounds like most likely nothing serious will happen at all.
I think I'm really enjoying today's weather, admittedly. I still miss the rain from time to time, those cozy days where you can curl up with a book, and some hot tea. My brain keeps telling me that it's time for cold weather, rain, and maybe snow, but my body begs a differ, as we still manage to sweat through all of the rain, with a humidity I've never come across in my life. I think the worst part is knowing, that summer is just around the corner. It's coming, all the locals grimace, and then laugh at me knowingly, as I stand there with this terrified look on my face. Sure, I like it warm, but just how warm are we talking? And for how long? Not to mention all of these terrible rumors that there's no point in going to the beach during the summer, because the water is as hot as the air. You won't feel better at all. "Just look out for the sharks, they love it in the evening when the water is murky." Hmm, this paradise seems to have a little bite in it after all. I'll just appreciate my one relatively cool rainy day, and wait with impatience for Christmas in Switzerland. There are worse things in life.
Which is apparently unusual for November. Rain like that sometimes means that a hurricane might hit soon. Our neighbor Olivier was over again, and as we talked to him about "cyclones" he eyed our bungalow with and expression that made me really nervous. Decidedly we'll end up next door with the girls who have an actual apartment, if anything serious ever happens. I don't think our little plywood shack is up for a good storm. But rest assured, it sounds like most likely nothing serious will happen at all.
I think I'm really enjoying today's weather, admittedly. I still miss the rain from time to time, those cozy days where you can curl up with a book, and some hot tea. My brain keeps telling me that it's time for cold weather, rain, and maybe snow, but my body begs a differ, as we still manage to sweat through all of the rain, with a humidity I've never come across in my life. I think the worst part is knowing, that summer is just around the corner. It's coming, all the locals grimace, and then laugh at me knowingly, as I stand there with this terrified look on my face. Sure, I like it warm, but just how warm are we talking? And for how long? Not to mention all of these terrible rumors that there's no point in going to the beach during the summer, because the water is as hot as the air. You won't feel better at all. "Just look out for the sharks, they love it in the evening when the water is murky." Hmm, this paradise seems to have a little bite in it after all. I'll just appreciate my one relatively cool rainy day, and wait with impatience for Christmas in Switzerland. There are worse things in life.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Ca commence, le travail!
I know everyone's dying to know, how's the job going? Well, to be honest, with only 12 hours a week, it's not exactly what I would call time consuming. But it definitely has its rewards, as well as trying moments.
The most challenging is dealing with the discontinuity. Even though I'm working at the same school all week long, every day, I see 12 classes per week, one hour for each class. In addition, I only work with half of the class while the teacher keeps the other half with him/her. So in the end, I see every student once every other week, for one hour. And this is only for 7 weeks, which gives us a grand total of 3 or 4 hours per student for the year.
Basically I don't know if I'm really helping them to improve their English, but to be honest, our more important job appears to be to spread our culture. The more photos I show of San Francisco, the Sierra Nevadas, or the beach in California, the wider their eyes get. Almost every class someone exclaims, "It is beautiful!" Although admittedly sometimes they mean, "She's beautiful," when they see the photo of my sister. I guess you don't realize how exciting it is for them to hear about California, especially when you see what they have here: beaches, sun, nature. I guess the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, or at least on the other side of the planet. I sure wouldn't mind some cool winter rain right about now, admittedly. The more rain here means the hotter and more humid it gets. This is going to be one crazy November.
The most challenging is dealing with the discontinuity. Even though I'm working at the same school all week long, every day, I see 12 classes per week, one hour for each class. In addition, I only work with half of the class while the teacher keeps the other half with him/her. So in the end, I see every student once every other week, for one hour. And this is only for 7 weeks, which gives us a grand total of 3 or 4 hours per student for the year.
Basically I don't know if I'm really helping them to improve their English, but to be honest, our more important job appears to be to spread our culture. The more photos I show of San Francisco, the Sierra Nevadas, or the beach in California, the wider their eyes get. Almost every class someone exclaims, "It is beautiful!" Although admittedly sometimes they mean, "She's beautiful," when they see the photo of my sister. I guess you don't realize how exciting it is for them to hear about California, especially when you see what they have here: beaches, sun, nature. I guess the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, or at least on the other side of the planet. I sure wouldn't mind some cool winter rain right about now, admittedly. The more rain here means the hotter and more humid it gets. This is going to be one crazy November.
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