Now that wasn't so bad

It seems that the kids are enrolled in their schools! I think if I had expected it to be easy, we would have been hit with stumbling blocks left and right. But because I had overprepared and expected the worst -- it was a piece of cake.

The teachers we met with seemed wonderful, too. I had been emailing the directrice and although she had been quite helpful and certainly kind in her messages, I had created an image of her in my head that was very much unlike reality (my picture was of a dour older French matron with grey hair pulled back severely, drab clothing, and maybe even a ruler to whack a small child's hand). Instead, we met with Isabelle, who reminded us very much of Jack's teachers in Lethbridge and even his teachers in Japan. There was no dourness about her anywhere -- in fact, she was helpful, warm, patient, funny, and (to our delight), very impressed with Jack's French reading skills.

When we had been emailing back and forth, she had said the teachers weren't sure whether to place him in CP (for 6 and 7 year olds, who are learning to read, write and do basic math) or CE1 (for 7 and 8 year olds, who are starting on grammar and other more complex topics). I will be happy to email Jack's grade two teacher in Lethbridge tonight and let her know that they will start him in CE1 (and Isabelle told the girls' teacher, Maude, he had done very well on his French reading). Of course, if he finds it too difficult, it would be "pas de probleme" to move him to CP (and there are many other 7 year olds there). But one additional perk to the CE1 class is that there is a young girl in that room who is bilingual -- her father is American and her mother is French, and she speaks both fluently. So they said if Jack ever had any trouble and didn't know how to ask for help (or for information) in French, he could just ask this young friend to help.

This same girl has a sister in Katie and Livie's class, and their teacher seemed equally charmante.  They will visit their classroom early Thursday morning, and begin half-day classes, four days a week, on Monday (none of the French elementary school students go to school on Wednesdays). Jack will meet his teacher on Thursday after school and see his classroom, and start attending classes on Friday. In the beginning, we will bring him home for lunch (more than 90 minutes for a midday break!), but after he settles in, we might have him ride the little bus to the "cantine" to eat and play with some of the other children.

Likewise, in the beginning, the girls will only attend in the morning. But as they get more comfortable in their classroom, they will also have the option of attending lunch and afternoon school too.

It's a bit of a logistical juggle game at the moment, as all of the neighboring villages have one small school or classrooms of various levels. Right now, the preschool (called Maternelle) is in a village 1 km away called Magny-les-Villers. The CP and CE1 classes are in two rooms (in two different buildings one block apart) in a village about 3-4 km away called Chaux. And the older children (ages 9-12) attend classes here in Villers-la-Faye. The cantine for all of the schools is in a different village all together, and all of the children who have lunch at school are bussed there.

If our timing had been a bit better, all of the children would have attended one consolidated school here in Villers-la-Faye... it's supposed to open this fall and looks lovely. But the classroom we saw tonight, while certainly low-tech, was also wonderfully familiar (small desks, lots of books, toys, and letters and words on the wall). Best of all, John and I both had the sense that the teachers like their work and are more than happy to be there.

And now -- a few more pictures from our first days here.

John and a jet -lagged Olivia on Sunday morning.

Getting ready for a walk.

So good to be out of that plane!

Olivia loving the big windows.

Katie (with a rock? leaf?)

Walking up to Les Chaumes on Sunday afternoon.

Vineyards in the background (vineyards EVERYWHERE). We keep talking about how lush everything will start looking come spring.

 

Olivia with every purple hair accessory we brought.

Me doing the paperwork for school. The kids hard at work, too.

It really could almost make you pull your hair out.

Sleeping girls (Kate on left)

 

We took a trip into Nuits-St-Georges today, a city about seven minutes north of us, for the sole purpose of going to a highly recommended patisserie. It was worth the trip.

 

Olivia LOVED all three.

Jack enjoying some chocolat chaud.

 

Katie is a fan of both the sweets and the hot chocolate.

Doing a little schoolwork with Jack before going to meet the teachers.

Small victories, and how we ended up here

Among the small victories of the day were:

1) signing up for a cell phone
2) getting *almost* all of the paperwork for the kids' school in order (and introducing them to the thrill of having a picture taken in a photo booth)
3) filling out paperwork for a grocery store's loyalty program (and sales); and
4) buying insurance

Now, these tasks are not what you would call especially thrilling. When done in your own language, none would take very long, and it's doubtful that any would merit a phone call to your parents (or a posting to the world). But in a second language, all of these mundane things become so much more challenging -- and so when you have accomplished them, it actually does feel like a victory of sorts.

It's kind of a weird victory, but I'll take whatever I can get!

We returned from a day of sleeping late and running errands to the beautiful Maison des Chaumes, and I continue to feel so lucky that we found this place. It happened in a roundabout way. A year ago, when John needed to decide if he was applying for the grants, etc., needed for a study leave out of the country, when we were still jetlagged from Japan and didn't want to go anywhere farther than the grocery store, we arranged to meet for coffee since we weren't making any good plans at home. The idea of organizing another BIG trip sounded horrible -- but we had also heard from enough of John's colleagues that time away to do research (and recharge) is one of the best benefits of what can be an often gruelling, never-really-ending job. We had been talking about France but weren't sure where to go -- and so said "why not Paris?"

And indeed, why not? It's a wonderful city that we had both visited several times back in 1993 (and on earlier trips), and we loved the museums, restaurants, music, and nightlife. And that became our mantra for a few weeks -- why not Paris?

So I started looking on a website that, to anyone who loves real estate and travel, is a bit like how I'd imagine taking cocaine would be -- addictive, thrilling, and with the potential to be very expensive (why stop at France? Look at what's available in Italy! And Greece! And London!). It's called Sabbaticalhomes.com and lists short and longer-term rentals around the world (usually furnished, often but not always posted by other academics also on study leaves). I started looking in Paris. There were tons of beautiful places there -- but many of them were, at most, one-bedroom and more importantly (as we had been living in a one-bedroom place in Japan), many of them stated explicitly that children were not welcome.

We did find a slightly bigger and child-friendly place we liked just outside of Paris, and started looking around at what it would cost for Metro tickets for five (as the girls are *just* old enough to require their own tickets), where they might go to school, what daily routines might be like, etc. And we started thinking more practically about what our life is like these days -- not one of dashing to museum openings and concerts and late night dinners with friends, but rather one filled with long walks and family meals and day-trips.

And we decided that if you are young and in-love and childless, Paris is probably THE place to be. But if you are not-so-young (but still very much in-love) and have three energetic kids... it might be wise to expand the search.

So out of curiousity and because I loved it 17 years ago, I plugged in DIJON in the Sabbaticalhomes search engine. And this website came up. It looked perfect. I got in touch with Laura and was thrilled to find out the place was available. She and her husband immediately began helping us as we made our plans. Laura (who I've never met in real life but feel like I know quite well thanks to her blog about life running four vacation rentals in Burgundy (as well as wonderful stories about her husband and children)) is a Canadian who went to France right out of high school and fell in love with a French man. I believe we were both in Burgundy around the same time (I like to think that we passed each other on the street or in a smoky brasserie); we both have three kids, write, love Burgundy (the region and the wine) and juggle family and travel and more.

And everything just fell into place -- but even so, all of the pictures and descriptions and emails didn't prepare me for the beauty that awaited us in Villers-la-Faye and at La Maison des Chaumes.

The village of about 400 is a 10-minute drive north of Beaune (which, when I was Dijon, was described to me by many French people as the wine capital of the world... not France, but the world) and probably a 30 minute drive south of Dijon (we haven't made the drive yet... so I am not quite sure). It's nestled in vineyards, and to get here you wind up a hill along a twisting road bordered by rock walls and grapevines for a few miles. Laura has left some history of the village that I will add later -- but just walking through town, you get the sense this place is OLD. Apparently, it was built at the intersection of five Roman roads... and that sense of history, of life and stories and tradition -- all of that is evident by stepping out the front door, or looking out any of the windows over the valley of villages and vineyards below.

And about that front door and those windows -- well, I don't know the whole story of this house, but I know that Laura and Franck had renovated much of it and made it their own family's home while running their other vacation rentals in Burgundy (and before returning to Victoria last summer). It feels like a real home. It is sunny and bright, with lovely tile floors and huge windows that open up onto a large wrap-around deck and amazing views in every direction. The kids felt at home immediately here, and John and I did too.

Well, if I ever hope to get past this jetleg, I should probably leave it at that for the night. Tomorrow's big plans include a trip to the Mayor's office for that necessary signature and a meeting with the directrice of the schools tomorrow evening to make sure all of the paperwork is in order. We're hoping Jack can start school quickly -- maybe Thursday? -- and we will ease Kate and Liv into it perhaps next week (if all goes well of course, and given French bureaucracy, I am counting on a few things perhaps not going quite as planned).

Bon soir!

Cheese heaven, a day at home, finding a park (and friends)

Anyone who read of our time in Japan might remember two of the things I missed most -- bread, and most of all, cheese. Ah, cheese. In Sapporo, I would have to take two different subways to go to the import store where I would pay an insane amount of money for small packets of familiar cheese. As soon as we got back to Canada (I'm talking Christmas Eve here), we went to Costco and I bought about eight different kinds (in Costco sized amounts), just so I would never, EVER, have to do without.

Well, going without cheese is not going to be a problem here. In just three days, we have been to a supermarche twice and I have stocked up on the most wonderful (and NOT expensive) cheeses in the world. The first time, I asked the woman at the counter to pick cheeses that are from the region, came home with four different kinds and have been in heaven ever since. Cheese heaven. A kind of heaven that tastes so very good on the bread from the local boulangerie. And goes so well with the wine that comes from the vines we walked by on our way to a park with the kids today. I kind of feel like it's my duty almost to make up for all the cheese I *didn't* eat while in Japan. Tough job, eh?

We are settling in so well. We all have a bit of jetlag, but it's the kind that is keeping everyone up later than we'd like and sleeping late these last two mornings (which somehow feels less difficult that the kind where you are wide awake at 3 in the morning and can't go back to sleep). We stayed home for most of the day today and just enjoyed the house and the delicious food purchased at E. Leclerc, a large grocery store in Beaune (just 10 minutes away). This afternoon, we took a walk up to Les Chaumes, a nearby park/grazing area/tennis court/playground to take advantange of the warm sun and blue skies. The village is surrounded by vineyards and on the way there, Jack (taking in the scenery) said to his sisters "The French must be mad for wine". Pretty good observation for a seven year old!

Just before we got there, I reminded the kids how we met Hiromi and Ayumu, two of our closest friends in Japan, on the first day at the first park we went to, and asked them if they thought we'd make any friends today (they weren't sure). Well, when we arrived, another family was there with three small children and a dog. At first, our kids were quite shy and kept their distance... but the lure of a cute little dog drew everyone together, and (with a few errors, of course), we ended up having a wonderful conversation with Olivier and Valerie (and their children Julianne, almost 7, Quentin, almost 5, and Luigi, almost 3). They live in a nearby village (but I don't remember which one) and agreed that *three* was the best number of children to have. They warned us that the fuzzy looking caterpiller Jack and Katie were playing with was actually something that shouldn't be touched (and then handed me their bottle of water to wash off Jack and Kate's hands). They were glad we liked wine (how could you not in a place like this?). They were warm and friendly and patient with our French... and we agreed to meet again in the same place Wednesday afternoon.

I know it's not all going to be this wonderful -- that there will certainly be hard times and sad times and lonely times and frustrating times... but right now, we are just soaking up all the good stuff, and feel lucky to be able to do so.

Speaking of the less than wonderful -- I spent the night completing the paperwork necessary to enroll the kids in schools, and then emailed (in French, with accents and everything) the directrice of the schools. I hope she emails back tomorrow and doesn't call (I wonder how long you would have to speak a foreign language before you felt comfortable on the phone... whatever it is, I am far from there). Franck and Laura have been so helpful getting all of the paperwork to us (and there is a lot) -- there is even a form the mayor of our village has to sign allowing the children to enroll in schools. Fingers crossed that it all goes well (now is that just too naive -- hoping something involving French and bureacracy and paperwork goes well? We'll see this week!)