Day 34

      Still no real photos to show for this past week, but it has been interesting and I am forever amazed at the random philosophical thoughts that occur when in a place still so foreign.  I have had the pleasure of meeting many new people, and as always, they have turned out to be nothing but kind.  My host family had invited over four of their friends from way back in college and they were quite the mixed group: a museum curator from England, a jovial Scot who lives in Denmark, a Chilean architect, and an elementary school teacher from the Basque country.  They all spoke English and French with several other languages thrown into the mix, and thus my brain was constantly having to switch back and forth and weed out the occasional Spanish phase or something of the like.  They arrived at about 6pm and so we sat down for some drinks and conversation before moving to the table where we stayed until 1am!
      Host-mom really outdid herself with the dinner, and we feasted.  She made her most traditional Algerian dish, what I described earlier in my horror story, but this time with regular portions of meat from lamb, beef, duck, and a few traditional sausages.  We absolutely stuffed ourselves to the brim with Algerian couscous, meats, vegetables, cheeses, wines, salads, breads, spicy peppers, olives, and just when we thought it was over, she brought out the largest tiramisu I have ever seen.  Oh baby!  That was a week ago and I still am not sure that I have recovered!  Eating good food, being surrounded by intelligent people, getting swept up into the debate  of the moment, and all with the sparkling city of Paris laid out behind me through the huge dining room window.  What more could I have asked for?  It was sad to see them go, but I was exhausted and I'm pretty sure my brain was smoking from trying to keep up with the rapid pace of our conversations.
      A few days after that we had another guest when my host father's sister came for a brief overnight stay from Algeria.  She was very kind, and spoke with an incredibly strong accent.  It was a bit bizarre needing a translation from one form of French to the next, but towards the end I was catching on.  For most of the afternoon I was in my room doing homework, but I could overhear her and my host-mom in the kitchen talking.  They sounded like bickering hens going back and forth, talking over each other in sing-song French.  For the first bit I thought they were speaking another language because of the accents, but it turned out it was French as well with a heavy dose of slang and adopted Arabic words.  Had I just met them on the street I would have thought that they were fighting, but I'm pretty sure it's an Algerian thing because every single one I've met since coming here seems to love making everything a heated and passionate debate.  It has nothing to do with hard feelings or actual malice; it is just for the sport!  Anyways, the two of them went on and on and it was quite entertaining to hear them having such a good time.
      Thanks to his sister I have also been formally introduced to the wonderful world of traditional Algerian sweets and pastries.  She is an amazing baker and brought with her tubs of homemade ornate and impeccably crafted little mouthfuls of heaven.  Just google "algerian pastry" and feast with your eyes!  The honey!  The nuts!  The flaky dough!  The dates!  An exclamation point just doesn't do it enough justice.  I was sad to see her go, but it was nice as the morning she left we were able to have breakfast together.  The rest of the family had gone to my host sister's fencing competition so we just sat and talked for a while and she told me all about how she made her pastries and we vented over the increasing number of McDonald's in Paris and how she hopes they don't build one in Algeria.  For some reason it is a bit disturbing to see a KFC or McDonald's packed with the young and the tourists who have no idea what they are missing out on.  There comes a point where globalization infringes upon cultural identity, but I haven't decided where the line is yet, so I won't get on my soapbox just yet.
      This morning was exceptionally good and one of the great highlights of my time here.  I signed up to volunteer at a school teaching English to a classroom full of 12-year-olds, and before I went I was seriously afraid of what I had gotten myself into.  I am so unqualified to teach its almost a joke that they are letting me do this, but I guess if I know the language then that is enough.  There ended up being an accident in the way of the tram, and I was running late with two stops and a six minute walk still to go.  Needless to say, as I was running down the wet sidewalk in my skirt, dodging dog poop, scarf flying, shoes half off, and bag flopping all over the place, I was second guessing all prior decisions.  However, the moment I walked into the school things started going my way.  Everyone I met was so, so kind and grateful that I was there, and the kids where so excited to meet an actual American student.  
      I then spent the next hour being interrogated about everything from my favorite color to the upcoming election.  They got a kick out of my explanation of the animal symbols for the Democrats and Republicans, and all were happy to hear that pizza was popular in the U.S. as well.  The teacher had asked them to prepare some questions, but for the most part we talked about Texas.  I think the thought of cowboys and Indians had them all quite intrigued.  As I was talking about the various symbols and cultural tidbits about Texas, I drew a picture/mural to incorporate each new thing both to help them remember and to explain any vocabulary words.  My moment of glory was when I put the finishing touches on my masterpiece of an armadillo wearing a cowboy hat riding a horse through a field of bluebonnets while eating a taco and holding the flag; the Alamo, an oil derrick, and the San Jacinto monument included in the background.  Their map of Texas had an oil derrick so I of course had to explain it, and one of their questions was "Do Texas has any monuments?" and for some reason the only one I could think of was San Jacinto.  Thank you Mom for making us study Texas history or I never would have survived that class!   
      Anyways, when the teacher returned I think she thought I was a bit crazy, but when she asked the kids what they had learned they not only were able to tell her about the election, basic U.S. government structure, american Halloween traditions, my favorite color, and a host of random things, but they were able to teach her about Texas' independence.  I was so proud :)  I also managed to teach them the "Indian sign-language" from day-camp at Camp Peniel; the one where you hold your thumb up above your head to signal everyone in hunting party to be quiet.  After several attempts at pacifying them near the beginning of the class, I remembered Chief Glen's ingenious trick, and it worked like magic.  After so many years at day-camp it is a natural reaction for me already, so when the teacher was back in the room and they were getting a little loud, I automatically raised my thumb and the room when dead.  Kate: 1  Noise: 0     
      Their English listening comprehension was pretty good and I only had to explain a few things in French along with the help of lots of silly sketches of course.  We all had such a fun time and I cannot wait to go back.  I'm glad that I'll be staying for a year so that hopefully I can stay with the same class for both semesters.  I know being a teacher is really hard work, but I see now why so many of them love their jobs.  I do have it easier though because I still have the aura of newness so everything I do is interesting to them, and I seriously hope it doesn't wear off anytime soon because there are a lot of them and just one me!
      And thus another week has come and gone, and despite all the homework, traffic, and dog poop dodging, I still love Paris!  All my love to family and friends...
-Kate Alice