It is that time of the year for new year’s resolutions. Well here is one of mine which I intend to keep… Before the end of this year, I would like to try one of everything in my local boulangerie (french bakery).

Because a) I am only here for the next 8 months so I have to make the most of the french cuisine while I can…

b) We are planning on travelling Asia for a few months after here so any weight gained will be lost on the way home (Ill need those extra pounds) and…

c) I love love love my local boulangerie, and love supporting them to stay open too (much better bread than any of the department or chain stores, think Casino!).

So far, I have sampled about half of the pastries and I am a sucker for the double/triple chocolate ones (and avoiding the almond ones since I am not such a huge fan of nuts).

Upon going to the boulangerie for our daily baguette yesterday with the french boy’o (and realising we had both left our wallets at home), the lady there had no qualms on saying “no big deal, come tomorrow”. Shows how often we frequent there and makes us feel like regulars in our quartier.

And you know the best thing about France? The words ‘glutton’ and ‘greedy’ have negative connotations in English, but the French have their very own special word which has evolved away from the meaning of the word gluttony, towards the appreciation of good food when you take great pleasure in your food (rather than the previous words which make you feel like a piglet or like Homer Simpson). So I am officially a self-confessed gourmand here in France and not ashamed of it. Bring on the daily baguette, the chocolatines and the macarons. Mmmmm.

yummy.

I am now half way through my year as a nanny looking after three french kiddie winks.

It’s a bizarre concept really. Usually the french home is very private. You wouldn’t just ‘pop around’ for a drink or turn up unexpected like we often do back home. The bizarre part is that you are, in fact, a complete stranger (only contact via skype or email) and you turn up and live with the family and see all of their dirty laundry! (literally). You are immediately in their circle, at the 5 year old’s birthday party, changing nappies and all that jazz. It’s a crazy concept but somehow it works. And for us, it has gone pretty well.

I believe the difference between a good au pair experience and a bad one really all comes down to the family. I know another au pair who has considered quitting because the boys that he was looking after were threatening to jump out of the window and said they would call the police if the au pair ever touched him (apparently there were ‘mummy-and-daddy-never-being-there’ issues there and the family were on their 8th nanny/au pair in 10 years). I also know another au pair that came into a family and found that the host mum became increasingly jealous of this young, bubbly girl that had come to live with her family and got on particularly well with her hubby (all harmless of course) and that didn’t bode well either. So like I say, the family makes all the difference.

being an au pair.

If asked what the hardest part for me is, it would be knowing the boundaries with the children without knowing the rules (okay, that makes no sense…). I shall explain. The kids will be at home with me and I will be telling them off for crawling on top of the couch or for screaming loudly. Then when the parents are home, I see them interacting with the children and they are quite free to crawl along the couch and are screaming their little hearts out. I find this part the hardest - knowing their rules.

A few of my favourite moments (which make it all worth it) would include splashing our faces with glitter and lipstick and making our very own rock band (i was the singer), the moment the little 3 year old came home from pre-school with bite marks on her bottom, actual bite marks (i would love to know the story of how the other kid actually bit her bum), the little boy’s impression of a dinosaur (he roars so hard that his head shakes), our head banging contest (and making videos of us doing it) and taking the kids to school when it had SNOWED (not so common here in the south of france… pure delight for the kids). Awkwardest moment was when the 9 year old asked me what “sexy bitch” means in english because she had heard it on a song on the radio (no swear words are censored here… so the kids go around singing gros mots!). One of the children is currently in the ‘poos and wees’ stage where everything to do with caca and pipi deserves a barrel of laughs apparently. The little one won’t let me leave pre-school until I’ve given her a big cuddle and bisous (kiss).  Children often don’t know how to be grateful or appreciate your help but if they know that you are there when they need you, that is what is important. And when they are happy to see you in the morning, that is always a good sign.

If you are thinking about becoming a nanny or au pair (or accepting one into your home), I think it’s a great opportunity for the children to establish a relationship with someone while mummy and daddy have work or study commitments.  I am teaching my children English and that is something they will have for the rest of their life. And of course, an open mind and a great sense of humour are pretty much compulsory.

This month has been the month of Epiphanie, where it is perfectly acceptable to eat sugary sweet cakes - Galette des Rois (Kings’ cake) - all month long. These cakes can be found in any boulangerie (french bakery) throughout France.

So what is… La Tradition?

1. With friends and family at the kitchen table, you nominate one person (often one of the kiddie winks) to crawl under the table and be the le main innocent.

2. Someone else needs to be the distributeur des parts (maybe one of the adults).

3. In french they say ‘tirer les rois‘ which means the distributeur cuts the galette into pieces and serves each piece to the person whose name has been called out by the child under the table (this ensures no cheating apparently!)

4. Lovingly mange (devour) the galette until someone announces that they have found la fève (a tiny porcelain figurine or trinket, sometimes a king or something else religious, or sometimes animals etc depending on the theme of the boulangerie).

5. Now is the time to crown the person who found the feve as the king or queen for the day, with a gold paper crown (included with the cake).

I am amazed at whether this tradition sends thousands of frenchies to the dentist with chipped teeth or prove to be a health hazard for littlies swallowing the little feve. Apparently not. It’s funny.

Two versions exist: the brioche (sweet cake) with fruit confits or the the flaky puff pastry one filled with frangipane below. I have tried them both and personally, I prefer the brioche but I also have an adversity to almonds so that might explain it. They are both extremely delicious. Luckily I was not subjected to wearing the silly paper crown

Decisions, decisions.

This week we have had the dreaded news that in September, I must leave La France before my working holiday visa expires. Without us being married, or having a kid, it means nothing to be a partner of a frenchman here. I understand the reasons behind it being so strict but it just sucks for us. The prefecture was full with people wanting to live in France and I soon realised that it is like that every day, in every city in France. I am not unique. Except for me, it’s because my partner is French and we were hoping to stay here for another few years. Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen.

thoughts...?

So… plan B? I have been thinking for a loooooong time about my future ‘career’. I have studied psychology previously for 3 years (bachelor degree) but have not used it since and wouldn’t be able to without further studies (and have not been sure that it’s the route I want to take). But I am now thinking more and more about going back to study to be a nurse. Yes, an infirmiere. I’ve been googling and researching my little heart out, trying to find out the ‘ins and outs’ of nursing school and thereafter, being a nurse.

My mum was a nurse in a rest home and I remember going there when I was little and talking to the old people and liking this environment (one of helping people feel comfortable). When a person close to me was sick, we spent A LOT of time in hospitals for her treatment and I will never forget the lovely nurses who really cared and helped her. The ones that you can feel are in the job because they care.

The thing is… and something which I have been craving (and missing) in my career is that… I want to help people (and always have been like that), even if that means I have to deal with poo, vomit and blood on a daily basis (at least I’m still helping someone). I have been doing office jobs for the past 5 years (during my temping, I worked in at least 6 different offices) where I haven’t felt content or like I’m making any positive difference to this world. And I don’t want to do this for the rest of my life. So it means going back to study for another 3 years to nursing school, with a lot of hard work and dedication. Am I ready?

After telling a close friend last night about this plan (this particular friend being very honest… blunt at times!), he called it how he saw it. He said that because I am such a free spirit, he was a bit worried about if I would be okay to settle down for the next 3-5 years. Well, I guess I will have to sometime (I can’t be fluttering between countries forever…) and I won’t know until I try.

Unfortunately, I have found there are a multitude of burnt out nurses online who are intent on telling their stories to the world in such a negative fashion. This can be a little offputting but at the same time, I have to remember that there are people in EVERY profession who complain about lack of pay, lack of appreciation, bla bla bla. So while I understand these individual’s struggles, I don’t think it is reflective of the entire profession. And life is what you make it. And of course, there are many opportunities in nursing to branch out into if one particular field is not the right one for me.

So anyone out there, any advice for a potential nurse?

Merci beaucoup.

Upon first impressions on living here in France, I couldn’t help noticing the clothing of the women as I think it says a lot about a culture. I started to notice a trend of black, brown and grey colours, often paired with a pair of black leggings or tights. The style here seems more conservative and much more traditional to what I am used to back in New Zealand. I prided myself on my tacky bright pink dangly heart earrings and bright paisley headscarfs back home (or in the UK), but here I feel like it attracts a little too much attention and screams out “I’m a foreigner!”. So for now, I have put away some of my bright stuff and have started wearing my less funky vetements. I feel like my bright clothing are a big part of my identity and I don’t want to lose that but at the same time, I also yearn to just blend in here, rather than sticking out on the metro every morning for my choice of clothing.

french girl: laid back but still stylee

Maybe they also don’t follow trends as much here. I remember living in the UK when bright neon ra-ra skirts were in fashion and the high waisted skirts (never really understood that one!). Oh and let’s not forget the big white baggy tshirts with huge bright lettering on them saying “I STOLE YOUR BOYFRIEND” (among other tacky things). But maybe the frenchies like to stick with the more traditionelle. Often they look sleek in black, with their hair styled (but not too styled… ). And they seem very comfortable and in tune with their bodies. Even the little girl I look after is constantly told by her maman (mummy) to improve her posture or that the clothes she has chosen for herself for school look moche (ugly) together. This awareness of how one looks may have something to do with the fact that frenchies know how to project themselves with confidence and grace. I find it fascinating.

Also, unintentionally, I have now been given a french style haircut (short side fringe and bob… aka a blonde version of Amelie) by the hairdresser to which I asked for a trim and ended up with half of my long blonde locks gone (which I’ve had for over 10 years). Ah well… c’est la vie!

I’m going to attempt a bit of creativity and wish you a happy new years in… eskimo!…

Kiortame pivdluaritlo everybody!

Or maybe I should be saying Bonne Année since I am now living amongst the froggies (and have been for 4 months now). As you may have guessed, me & the French boy have made home in the South of France where I have had a real eye opener of a time, experiencing and questioning his culture from the outside. And also, a good one for helping me understand where some of his cultural identity and thoughts come from. In fact, I find the French culture to be rich and intriguing at the same time as being a little frustrating at times. And I have plenty of funny stories to spill about some of my experiences living in France. But I’m not an expat in Paris, I am here living in the south where you barely ever hear an english speaker and it’s too far from Paris for the tourists! So I am really immersed here and hope to share a slice of life here with you.

So just wondering, is there anyone still out there? I would be surprised if there is, since I have dropped off the face of the planet (well, the blog planet that is) for the last 5 months! But I’m back, brimming with new years resolutions and wondering what adventures 2010 will bring.

Happy New Years and I wish you all the happiness in the world for 2010.

xx