Jeudi 14.12.06 Combat Mayflower
Dawn is going to bed and Day is raising his head as I walk up the hill to the bus-stop this morning. Whoosh. Plooooop. A melon falls in front of me and splatters on the ground like a broken, runny egg. It was inches from hitting me. These precarious plants are a hazard. I wonder how much a car depreciates by with each melon mark? Perhaps it’s a lucky sign here like a bird pooing on you is elsewhere? I’ve been baptised by bird-pooh twice in my life. The first incidence was in primary school. I was waiting in line to jump into the skipping rope and I got a pat on the shoulder instead. The second time it happened was in secondary school. I was in Transition Year and we were going to the shopping centre for a Mini-Company Trade Fair. I stepped in off the path by the all-weather pitch to allow others to pass by with a trolley and I got a free conditioning. Does it count here if a bit of melon splatter lands on your shoe? I like to think it’s a sign of some sort. Perhaps something’s going to make an impression on me – hopefully without leaving a dent!
I’m on bus No.2 when some little school-girl waves at me. She’s on the bus too and she looks vaguely familiar. I wave back and make my way to the back of the bus. I’ve no sooner sat down and started reading when she appears beside me. You know how some people have a distinct smell? Well she does. It’s horrible to say but it’s more a stale stink actually and I then realise who she is. She’s Maleka, the little girl I escorted to Point Simone last week. She lives near Saint-Joseph and has to get two buses in every morning just like me. She tells me about her Christmas list and all the presents she has bought so far. We both get off at the same bus-stop but she disappears down a side street instead of crossing over to the main entrance.
It’s out with the copy books and photocopies for the second half of the school week. But since I didn’t take Claude’s class on Monday I firstly go over the previous lesson with them. The four pupils who were in for Regine’s class egg the others on a bit as they start to remember the answers. It actually helps the class get through it quicker than expected and I’ve no qualms about launching into written work with them. I have tickets with the relevant Christmas vocabulary on them and as I call them out I pick a pupil to place the word under the matching cut-out. I also draw a snowball and snowflakes on the board while explaining what they are. A handful of pupils have seen snow for real and one has made a snowman. Next it’s out with the copies as I get them to compile a list of the vocabulary we’ve worked with. They write both the English word and the French translation, and some of the more artistic kids are itching to illustrate their copies but we hold off until the next exercise where we draw Christmas trees; there are a few varieties of Christmas trees to be seen as I roam around the classroom with my green highlighter. I’ve already drawn one on the blackboard and I as with the first lesson I work with prepositions and make sentences using them and the Christmas vocab:
The star is on top of the Christmas tree.
The decorations are on the tree.
The present is under the tree.
The snowman is beside the Christmas tree.
The pupils note the prepositions and draw the four items on top, on, under and beside their own trees and then transcribe the four sentences.
With the younger classes I start off with the Christmas vocabulary but move on to presents - though probably not those which they desire I tell them. I’ve photocopied sheets with a colour, cut and paste exercise which allows them to make a Christmas card using various toys and objects: teddy-bear (orange), plane (blue), car (purple), ball (red), doll (pink), kite (brown), book (green), pen (black), star (yellow). I’ve made cut-outs using my own sketches and I’ve coloured each one a different colour so we can work with that at the same time.
I’ve made up a different action for each item and when I repeat the word I get them to do the action: teddy-bear (hug yourself), plane (arms outstretched), car (grab the steering wheel), ball (bounce it), doll (rock-a-bye baby), kite (wriggle hand in air), book (palms up and together), pen (scribble away), star (open and close hands above head).
When they’ve gotten to grips with the words we work with colours and I ask them individually to point to the red ball, the green book, the yellow star… To complete the exercise I have to write the words under the items which are stuck on the board as the Christmas card exercise will see them matching their own mini coloured, cut-outs to the words on the sheet. On one half are the nine objects ready to be coloured and cut-out. On the other half is a Christmas tree surrounded by a frame with the words Merry Christmas written under the tree. On the tree itself are the corresponding words for the objects so the kids have to stick their cut-outs in the relevant spaces. Obviously the star is marked on top of the tree but the rest are placed at random. The question of the day is whether they should use markers or colouring pencils. In hindsight I would have said colouring pencils but it didn’t matter either way as some kids had neither set.
There’s some Telethon promotion in the school today. The junior school children are wobbling around the yard wearing stripy trousers and clutching multi-coloured balloons. The older children fawn and fuss over them. Madame Dau is out and about too. I nab her before she floats off as I’ve to give her a report for Madame l’Inspectrice.
I go to La Croisière for lunch with Nicola and David. I have poulet supreme which is pretty good even though there are millions of mushrooms in the sauce. Nicola has the poulet du colombo and David goes for the fried fish option. I eye up his charred fish specimen and help him pick the meat off the bones. I pop the eye in my mouth to see if it’s anything like the Podge and Rodge variety; it’s just as chewy but not as gritty and nowhere near as sublime! Gerry, the German speaking guy from Burundi, appears halfway through our meal and he asks David if he will give him English lessons. David puts on his Scot’s accent which probably only intrigues Gerry further: I dinnae ken. Ach awwa an dinnae talk yer pish! We’re left to enjoy the rest of our meal in peace and Nicola soon leaves to go back to school. David has enjoyed a full hour of work this week as his teacher-trainee students have a stage. He does however have four hours tomorrow morning which may cause him some hardship...
David and I go shopping. He has to find a Secret Santa present for one of his live-in mates. The budget is €5 but we surprise ourselves with our finds. We also scout about for goodies for ourselves. David has his eye on a novelty cowboy game. I buy a small shower radio for €8; at least if it breaks I won’t feel so hard done by. Some of the things we’ve bought here have had a very short life; umbrellas, footwear, watches. We’re all shopped out. I drag David to Bibliothèque Schoelcher as he has never been before and I need some new reading material. In turn he drags me to a bar near La Savane. It’s good to sit outside and watch the world go by; it’s just like a petit Paris according to David. I’ve a good view of a nude waitress mannequin behind him but it’s not long until some hobo has the barefaced cheek to creep up behind him and ask for money and cigarettes. He moves on and we watch him pester more diners and drinkers before procuring a bottle of white wine and spreading himself across the path. We decide to move on and end up outside the Mayflower. Europcar is open next door, which is a surprise, so I go in with my queries and get another quote for Christmas.
David and I levitate towards the Mayflower and the bar staff magic up a Leffe lotion and Stella brew as we chat to Marjorie and Jill at the bar. It turns out this is their favourite haunt too. Jill is raving about her school. She sent 170 cards to her pupils; someone sent her 200 Christmas cards from America! Both Jill and Marjorie are going home for Christmas; America and London respectively. Marjorie asks if I want anything from Ireland as she may visit her roots while she’s there but I tell her my man’s coming and will be bringing a Santa Sack of his own…
We have a blooming good night at the Mayflower. By 17,00 it has started to fill up. Nicola has rejoined us and our DJ friend, Michel, has humoured our requests for U2 and The Cranberries. Shane McGowan and the Dubliners make an appearance too though there’s still the odd French song thrown in to keep the peace. A few French guys are across the way and before we know it we’ve become alcoholic allies. They’re in the French army and are over here until January for military training. Sebastian and Gilles/Christophe keep us entertained with their tales, but their comrade Mario seems like a moody loner. Two of their nurse friends, who are both called Nelly, turn up and add more animated ammunition to the French forces. David later leaves, weakening our Anglophone defences; the crazy guy walks home through the most dangerous part of the city. There’s a German group, Reinstein or something, blaring from the speakers and all the lads come to life chanting along to the mental metal mantra. Nic and I request some danceable music and we’re soon up swinging and grooving around the bar. One of the bar staff catches my eye – and not because she’s wearing fluorescent combat trousers – she’s carrying a gigantic jug with a tap at the end. There must be 5 litres of beer in it. It’s placed on the vacant table behind us. It’s not empty for long as five more buff army types come striding up. Our army acquaintances rise to embrace them and introduce us. By the end of the night the place is packed with muscle and brawn; there are a handful of black guys but most are fawn Frenchies.
Dawn soon makes a re-appearance as Night decides to call it a day. We do likewise and get a lift back to Tivoli with our three musketeers. Mopey Mario hasn’t been drinking and the force is with us so we get home safe and sound, and completely shattered. My bed has never felt so good. I’m waiting for the sleep invasion but it evades me; so desirable, yet so distant…
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