Quatrième

Welcome to the second year of my life in France.
As you read in the previous article “Cinquieme” I introduced you to the change: in houses, language, traditions and food.
Although, what’s strange now, as I look back, France seems more homely than England ever did. I suppose I have more friends here, and I got one of those ‘Instant popularities’ because I spoke a different language and the French found that très intéressant!

I’ll re-wind to the very beginning of 2010-2011 so all you can keep up to date!
During the summer holidays of 2010, we went near Lac Leman in Switzerland for 2 weeks, right high in the mountains. The scenery was gorgeous, very green, loads of mountains and streams – fresh and cold. There were even cable cars from the village to the Middle mountain (the mountain directly behind the cabin we were letting.) And then, from the cable car station on the mountain, you could walk to Mont Blanc, and thousands of others!
In the village, there were shops – of course, it wasn’t that remote, though it was actually 30/60 minutes to the nearest City/huge town – and there was a gorgeous swimming pool, with water fresh from the mountains: cold but very refreshing in the 35 degree heat. And of course, restaurants, and a tiny super market that sold just about everything. What was funny though, is I didn’t mind being eaten alive by insects during my visit – very unusual behaviour by me, whereas, my brothers were all the same as usual!
Every night, at around 4pm/5pm, there were huge thunderstorms that raged harder and harder. In twenty minutes, the whole mountain in front of our house had disappeared in a mass of clouds and fog.

The summer holidays, after that gorgeous holiday, sped by and disappeared all together. The school book buying competition between mothers, daughters and sons raged on and on, and all of a sudden, the first day nerves were upon us.

Now, because my school here is not at all like my secondary school in England, they do things differently to the schedule. Each year, we get sorted into a new class, so that we are never with the same people twice. This year, I was put with plenty of new kids, and one of them became one of my closest friends. I knew a guy, called Romain, who was my brothers’ friends’ brother, due to start mon collège for 2010-2011. He was put into my class, so it was easier for him and, because I already knew everyone, I could introduce him to people. He didn’t need my help though, he was a socialist!

The year started off like any other. The ‘carnet de correspondance’s’ were handed out, one to each student. The handing out of the carnet’s  officially meant we had to work hard. ‘Youpi…’ And, the homework started kicking in. Déjà. Not even one hour after, we already had two bits of homework; French and Concertation. (Guidance)

I’m going to admit it, I was a bit hesitant about this year, because a good friend, that I made the year before, had moved to a school closer to her home, and left me on my own. So there wasn’t any one to go around in a group with. (French people usually hang around in groups, never just one or two people… NEVER.) Until a week in. I met the nicest girl, and we were friends straight away. Her sister was in the year below, and until she met some friends in 5ème, she hung with us.

I would skip the school part, but if I did, the blog would end pretty much here. There have been no school trips, no important event, no dance party.

The 13th December was  the day we moved house from destination A to destination B. From a house to an apartment. From the countryside to the city. And this apartment is cute and old, dating from before the second world war. You can tell by its intricate  ceiling decoration.

The christmas  holidays started on the 18th of December, leaving us plenty of time to get used to the new apartment, its ways of life, and atmosphere… No loud noises after 8pm, and no loud noises before 7/8 am. Christmas dawned, with my brothers waking up at 2 am, parading out and around the house, their christmas stockings at hand. I guess I’m the one to blame… I said that I might get up at 2am to look in my christmas stocking, but I changed my mind and turned off my alarm. There was a bit of shouting, and the following morning, each of us had to write a letter of apology to the Lady who lives below us. We were allowed to open a present after breakfast, and then, just before lunch, we went for a walk. After coming back, mum popped out to get some baguettes. After lunch, we were allowed to open the rest of our presents, I will just list the four presents:

A scarf and hat, some books, perfume and some chocolate.

But before we knew it, we were back at school for January. January is January, there is a buzz in the air, because every one chats about their Christmas presents… an I pod, a designer  bag, 10 CD’s… But then every one stops and thinks: there  are only two terms left until the end of the year.

January sped by and February arrived… and so did my Birthday. I love birthdays, because they are centred around you, you feel nice, and a year older too. So this day, I was officially 14.  For lunch, I had invited two girls for a meal at home. We had a starter, main and a pudding… the pudding was revolved around chocolate. Yum. I think that I shouldn’t have eaten all this chocolate. Mum had also baked a cake for me to take into school. Cut into 40 pieces, it took 3 people to carry it up.
We had Etude (study hall) and History before we started on the cake… On Thursdays we finish at 3:30, because we don’t have 3 afternoon lessons. The cake was gone in 5 minutes. (!)
As soon as I got back, I watched Letters to Juliette. It is a great film, and I loved it!

The rest of the term passed quite quickly… And astonishingly enough, June quickly arrived, bringing rain clouds and winds. One school trip was organised for the 9th June. A religious one, where we visited an abbey. It wasn’t very fun. At all. (I’m being very honest)! Although the architecture was pretty amazing! But the best thing about it was hanging with friends and eating all together, sat on grass in the sunshine.

Soon, the trip was over, after one day of walking from abbey to abbey in a certain section of Normandy, unknown to me and my class mates.

The end of the school year approached, slowly creeping up, threatening me with a fast flying summer vacation and then one of the hardest years in my life. The Brevet Year. (see next instalment (next year)). Now, those who are clever, will be able to say:
“The brevets are GCSE equivalents.” Which is very true. But instead of being covered over 2/3 years, France does them in 1 year!

Friday 24th June arrived. The last day of 4ème. There was no P.E. In music, we watched a film. In English, we watched Postman Pat, with French subtitles. In French, before the teacher arrived, we organised a goûter. We all brought a couple of items of food in. I had previously made some scones so I brought them in. Half the class asked for the recipe! I took that as a complement! I offered my form tutor a scented candle as a thank you gift, and we all had put 2€ into a collection box to buy her a huge bunch of flowers and a card. I want to spare her some embarrassment, so I’ll say, we all cried.

That afternoon, as the bell signalled the end of school, kids screamed as they ran out the doors, hugging and chatting excitedly, before swapping numbers and running out the gates, swarming down the street, arm in arm.

My Verdict:
This year, my life had been so much easier. Since I understand so much more, and have some fantastic friends here to help me, and some fabulous friends in England who encourage me, I keep going.

Fin du chapitre.♥

My French Introduction

Welcome to France !

Hi!

My name is Anabel, I’m 14 years old and when I was 12, I moved from the East-Middlands, England to Haute-Normandie, France. It was such a big change that I thought blogging about it may show you the positive and negative sides to moving abroad.

At first, I was the one to think it was negative, but now, in my last year of college, I think that this decision has been one of the best ones yet.

For those of you who don’t know me, I’m a shy person, so I didn’t expect to be uprooted at the end of year 7 and be expected to speak fluent French to learn stuff. I wasn’t that good in French lessons either (the ones in England – The French French lessons in France were unreal) and so as soon as I arrived, the only few words I knew were greetings, a few verbs and a couple of clothes.

That was how difficult it was.

If you’d like to hear the rest of my story, go on to Cinquieme… If not, thanks for at least listening to my introduction, but It’s a shame you didn’t carry one.

Bye!

Follow me via Twitter : @anabelgrace