Day Three in Lyon:
There was a very heavy tiredness over the group. We had all returned home from the family dinner at around midnight the night before and were subsequently hugging our duvets yawning when it was time to get up. For the brave few who managed to move for breakfast it was chocolate brownies, which prompted a discussion as to why the French eat so much at mealtimes but somehow stay slim! On our way out R went to elaborate lengths to sneak some sugar cubes out of the dining room; we were fast running out and didn’t know how to ask for some more in French.
Our group then split to do one of two activities- one group went out on an excursion to a beehive and myself and the others stayed to do some drama. The children in this class were practicing poetry with a visiting workshop leader. They were talking through the many aspects of successful poem recitation including: breath control, stance and intonation. At some points in this session I was the only French speaker so I had to translate for my group. I was really surprised at how much I could understand and I really enjoyed doing it. I also found that it is a real buzz when a French person speaking English looks to you and says a French word and you can give them the translation that they are looking for. At the end of the lesson we took it in turns to recite a french translation of a strange haiku about a frog which jumped into the water making a ‘plock’ sound. When I had a go the teacher running the class comically remarked: “I do like the English plock”.
We had a break between activities so we headed onto the playground for some sun. The other students sat down on a bench beneath a tree whilst myself and R, on a whim, decided to see if we could join in a game of football with the French primary school pupils. At first they looked at us like we were giant aliens from the land of fish and chips, however with some persistence and some French from me we were soon involved. R was immersed into the football and I was pulled aside by a little girl. She preceded to introduce me to all of her friends and involved me in a very complex imaginary game involving a ‘big mouse’. In return I taught them ‘heads, shoulders, knees and toes’ and how to spin a hool-a-hoop on their arms. The highlight was definitely when the little girl (with her arms wrapped round my neck) told me that my french was ‘very good’ and asked me how I know French and English. It occurred to me that with children you don’t really need to speak the same language anyway. The language which will get you the furthest is the one you learnt in your own childhood- one of imagination, ball games and make believe. Being with the children made me more confident because I wasn’t so scared of making mistakes around them because I felt that they would be a lot more willing to bare with my clumsy errors than adults might be. Talking to them and them understanding and talking back made me feel on top of the world and it cemented in my head the fact that languages are certainly for me.
For lunch we had a meal at a catering college. This was at the other side of the city and involved a short journey on the metero. We had all been given day tickets so I retrieved it from my pocket when we reached the machine. I held it up to a member of staff to check it was the right ticket, but she burst out laughing. It was then that I was told that I had very nearly fed a plaster into the metero machine instead. When the ticket was found and we were on the train I was next to a French student called A. She was listening to James Arthur’s ‘impossible’ and singing along.
“Is that James Arthur?” I asked. She looked puzzled.
“James Arthur?” I tried again. I was about to try for a third time whilst beginning to regret my question in the first place when my French teacher ducked down to our level and said: “James Arthur?” In a thick French accent. It is at this point that A’s face lights up and she says: “Oui!!”. It is amazing what difference an accent can do. The students at the catering college are learning how to become cooks and servers and the food was delicious. As we were now in an unknown part of the city after lunch we decided to go out to do some shopping and tourism. Once we had separated from the french students who had lessons back at CSRP staff member J did an impression of an enthusiastic tourist in order to get us to where we needed to be. His charade even included a very large map held at arms length and a puzzled expression. We decided to go up to the basilica on the hill, to get to which we went on the small tram which goes up the incredibly steep incline. The priest inside the basilica was very kind and said that we could touch everything and anything we wanted because there were so many beautiful things to see. He was right- there were ornate chandeliers and carvings to explore and we enjoyed taking the time to just sit in the calm and take in our surroundings.
Outside the basilica there was a fantastic view of the whole of Lyon. E, a french student involved in the trip last year, was able to point out her house in the distance below. I had been squinting through my camera at the beautiful view but I was delighted when we found an amazing tactile map of the scene with Braille and representations of all the tiny houses and monuments. We spent several minutes exploring this and taking our fingers on journeys through the maze of miniature apartment blocks. Next we went to the FNAC- a ‘buy anything you can think of’ kind of shop- in search of audiobooks. There were no titles which particularly caught my eye in the audio section, but I couldn’t help myself from buying a print copy of the ‘fault in our stars’ in French. I will have to try and scan it or put it under a CCTV magnifier, not the easiest way for me to read by a long shot, but ‘Nos étoiles contraires’ has a very firm place in my heart. Even if I can’t read the words I am so glad to have it.
French supermarkets are similar to English supermarkets in the sense that there are a lot of things which are just too good to buy! We ended up buying far too much food for all of us to eat, even with our dinner guests from the college. When we got back we had the food in a big picnic style with drinks of Cola and Grenadine syrup squash. We relaxed on the sofas and myself and P played a complex game of chess with many missing pieces. This game’s complexity was increased by the fact that we had to use alternative pieces for different missing figures, meaning there was always an element of confusion over what we were actually moving. The night finished with us all discussing how much we have become like a family over the last few days. And it is true, we really are like a family now.