Same day, 20:24- Aiguillon
Well, I’ve just arrived!
Unfortunately, it’s pretty dark outside- the train I took was 48 minutes en retard- I felt pretty bad for Stéphane, who was probably at home in Agen before I arrived 2 hours after the school closed. But- I blame the train system! Anyway, he seems pretty laid back, so I’m lucky to not have someone more prone to freaking out.
The town isn’t as small as I thought, but it isn’t Besançon, either. I only got a speedy driving tour through the city, but from what I can tell it’s a pretty cute city. I feel weird calling it a city when it’s really more of a town- Stéphane told me it’s the 4th or 5th biggest in the Lot-et-Garonne region. The school is the part that amazes me- it’s an older building (18th century older) that used to be a castle. And I live in an apartment right off to the side of it! I wonder what the classrooms look like...
There will be another assistant (niveau primaire) in my apartment who I believe might be British. I hope she’s nice!
(side note- I just ate a whole thin crust pizza. I didn’t have lunch and I think they’re meant to be for one person anyway. I probably could’ve ordered dessert, too...)
21-1-09, Tues. night
Well, a few days have gone by and I’m acquainting myself well with this little town. Today I opened up my bank account, took care of some other formalities in order to get my carte de séjour (which turned out to be necessary) and went up the large hill with Clare (the previous assistant) in Nicole (a nearby small village). We saw everything from up there- all the little villages were even smaller from up there. There is a crucifix one can see from the road that marks the top of the “peak”. The climb wasn’t easy (we were breathing heavily by the end of our climb) and the descent was even more unpleasant, but in a different sense. There was a man who drove back up the hill as we were ascending (he’d already passed us going down) who immediately gave Clare & me the creeps. He smoked his cigarette at the top of the hill, and as we descended he followed us back down. He was mumbling things (in French) to Clare about giving us a tour, and she declined as we kept on walking. He persisted to bug us as we pressed on, and after maybe three rejections he reached out and fondled Clare and tried to pull her tank top down. We started yelling and he slowly drove away. I asked Clare if she wanted me to call the police, but she said no- I should have done it anyway. She went home after we had a few beers and she told her boyfriend Jean-Pierre about it, and he reassured her that we should’ve reported it. We’re going to the gendarmerie tomorrow to do just that (although unfortunately we didn’t get his license plate number, so I don’t know what they’d really be able to do). Anyway, we both remember small details so hopefully it will help the police find the pervert and put him away. The situation just served as a (strong) reminder to always be alert and have my pepper spray on me. I didn’t have it then, and I regret it. Thank God we weren’t hurt.
Joanna’s story of being followed in Paris is another thing that set off an alarm in my mind. Just one more reason why I must make friends fast and never be alone at night. It’s ironic that absolutely nothing happened the entire time Clare was here, but the night before she leaves of course something happens. You can never be too careful.
Other than that sour note, my colleagues all seem to be very nice. One of the english teachers who has a place in Bordeaux invited me over to her place or to ride out with her when she drives out! I’ve met the theatre teacher too, who seemed very willing to get me involved in her productions in one way or another. Her students are doing a piece my Molière in March, so I’m planning on going to that to see them perform. I’m thinking of seeing how much it’ll cost me to get/rent a car to get around while I’m here in Aiguillon. I can only take the train to so many places, and the return times aren’t very late at all (before 8 to get back from Agen, for example). I’m thinking of talking to Stéphane about it, but I don’t know how much info he’d be able to give me as he’s probably lived in France all of his life (or in the European Union, at least). There is an auto-école in the city that I will stop by to see how I can go about maybe getting a car.
(same day, later that night)
Now I know what people are talking about when they say the French are so depressing- I’m trying to find something uplifting and fun to watch, but the happiest thing I can find is a film on the Holocaust. Go figure.
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