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So today was the first day of school for teachers, and I'd just like to say: Oh. My. God. We ain't playin' anymore, kids! This shiznit is fo' real.

I took the bus to school and I was walking into the parking lot, I saw my colleague Cécile parking her very recognizable car. (A 1977 Citroen Deux Chevaux-- she took me riding in it yesterday.) I was able to go inside the building with her, which reduced my new-girl-awkwardness substantially. I met the rest of the English teachers-- there are nine in all-- and they are all delightful. Eager to help, which is good because I am friggin' gonna need it.

The principal's meeting started out really well; she spoke slowly, clearly, and in highfalutin' academic language, which was fabulous because that kind of French I understand-- it's how my professors spoke all through college! I was tickled to see that some things are universal about teachers' meetings, namely that the faculty don't listen, nobody can explain the "new procedures" without causing mass confusion and panic, and the technology WILL fail. (Favorite part: when the principal was going over her PowerPoint presentation; she had her back to the screen and thought everyone was murmuring about her presentation, when in fact they were all distracted watching the screen slowly retract up the wall.)

This school is what's called a lycée polyvalent, which means they have more than one division. There's the "regular," college-preparatory school, and there's also a post-bac program that's kind of like community college. There's also a vocational school, which teaches everything from mechanics (auto and moto, in separate programs) to secretary school. (Mom, it's your people!)

Around lunch time, I hit the wall in terms of language saturation; my brain refused to process any more French. The result was a bigtime tune-out of the goings-on; in fact, at one point I was thinking about this thing I saw online and realized people were looking at me funny because I was grinning like a dummy during a discussion about last year's disappointing exam results.

It's tough to sit through all these meetings when you don't have the faintest idea what you're doing and only understand about 40 percent of what's being said. Imagine spending all day getting ready for, not only a job you've never done before, but one you've had no training for, and that's where I'm livin' these days. Granted, it's just my vanity that objects to this (I like feeling like a competent professional, so sue me.) and these days it's easy to feel sorry for myself. I know nothing-- I don't know where to get keys, I don't know where to get markers for the board, I don't know how one acquires textbooks or takes attendance. I don't know what kind of homework to give, or how often, or how to grade it. (They grade on a scale of 20 here, and 11 is respectable. That's the equivalent of a 55 on our scale, which is FAILING.)

Still, it's not like world peace hangs in the balance; when I say super-dumbass things (which I do, regularly), the world continues to turn. Maybe I should just think of myself as the local comic relief. (Here I'm remembering an old colleague, Doug, whose philosophy on work was, "Let everyone think you're stupid; then their expectations are lower and then when you screw up, no one cares.") And anyway, it's just all this "business" stuff that's getting me down. The next time I'll go back to school, it'll be to teach, and heck, I'm pretty dang good at that!

I'd like to take this moment to say that my colleagues could not possibly be nicer; we're talking extreme Olympic-caliber hand-holding, here. Not only did Cécile come by yesterday to get me started, but she spent pretty much all afternoon helping me get ready, and Anne-Marie is picking me up tomorrow so that we can work on classes together.

Also, I just have to tell you that all the students have a particular program of study, noted by a letter. "S" is sciences, "ES" is social studies/economics, etc. As I was looking over the classes, I saw that there's one program whose abbreviation is ASS, and this makes me very happy every time I think about it. "What's your program of study?" "ASS."

Hey, it's the little things that count.