Some Nooky

In my last post I mentioned I was worrying about school and that I was learning that a parent never stops worrying.

Now I am worrying what English I am teaching Little Piglet. For the moment she only says the odd word in English and French and thankfully she hasn’t said any swear words yet.

But today I realised my English is so rusty that I say some pretty weird stuff and I really need to work on my vocabulary.

Since my husband launched his estate agency last, I have been helping out where I can and quite enjoying myself especially as I used to work in property.

Today I was showing some English speaking clients around and was keen to point out a properties features. Arriving in a room, I pointed to the corner and stated “that’s the nooky cupboard”. My clients burst in to laughter and I was the none the wiser, I thought they weren’t keen on the decoration but couldn’t see anything wrong with it myself other than maybe the colour which honestly wasn’t that bad.

Outside the room, the lady pulled me to a side and quietly told me what “nooky” meant and that maybe I meant “nook and cranny”? She was still in stitches and I was too as soon as I realised the error I had made!

Thankfully these people told me what I had said wrong, but what about all the people in French and in English who have a laugh at my expense and I’m none the wiser?

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REBLOG: Is Language a Barrier to Social Integration in Portugal?

I’m lucky in that I speak French fluently but it hasn’t always been the case. I moved to France aged 16 and didn’t speak a word, but the learning process was natural for me and I learned French through not having any choice. If I wanted friends or to be understood by my trainer then I was going to have to speak French. I can remember reading the dictionary for hours on end and phonetically learning how to say each word and then practising.

I know not everybody is in a situation where they can learn and have the opportunity to practise but I personally cannot imagine not being able to communicate.

Have you experienced language barriers where you live? Maybe you have some tips?

I’ve reblogged my Mum’s recent posting about this and her frustrations about not being able to speak Portuguese here:

Is Language a Barrier to Social Integration in Portugal?.

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La Fête des Voisins

Last Saturday we were invited to a neighourbood get together La Fête des Voisins
which literally means neighbourhood party. This is a traditional get together which takes place all across France albeit later in May generally.

When living in Lyon, this was the type of get together that I’d watch on the television but never see or even hear about in real life, so when we got a note through the letter box some weeks ago I was delighted.

Since moving to the French countryside I’ve not really met that many people and have remained in close contact with my Lyon based friends. It can be quite a lonely existence but the friends I have made more than make up for quantity in quality.

It’s said here that people are wary of foreigners and when I say foreigners, I don’t mean people from other countries but people from other parts of France! So I guess I am a super dooper foreigner for people in these parts!

Anyway, back to La Fête des Voisins. We’d been invited to Chez Gael which was one of our neighbours although I didn’t have a clue which one or where they lived. Our neighbourhood is quite extensive and to walk round it takes me 35 minutes and there aren’t that many houses.

I managed to locate the house quite easily last Saturday by walking down the lane whilst pushing Little Piglet (yes, I’ve decided on a name). I couldn’t but notice the huge marquees outside a house at the top of the hill, so I was guessing that either the party was there or I’d be gate crashing someone’s wedding reception… Thankfully upon arrival my destination was confirmed as being the correct place! Ouf!

I’d been told to bring along something for the aperitif or for dessert and in Mr Piglet’s absence (he was working) I took a long a bottle of white and some crisps. Good job I had Little Piglet in her pushchair as I was confronted with lots of home made specialties from the other guests making my offering look very basic. Little Piglet’s presence more than made up my lack of food however as everyone cooed over her, saying how gracious she is.

Eventually Mr Piglet turned up and it was great meeting all the people who live nearby. It was frequently commented how people were glad that the previous owners had gone and how they were very cold and snubbed people. We chatted and met so many people, I can only remember their faces not their names or where they live so it’s going to be fun over the next few months working out where everyone lives and checking out their names on their letter boxes.

I even met a lady who grew up in our house, it belonged to her great grandmother and her bedroom was Little Piglet’s room! She is very fond of the house and hopefully she’ll accept my invitation to drop in for coffee one day and tell me more about the house and how it was before it was renovated.

After a while the heavens opened and as Mr Piglet had returned to work and I hadn’t the foresight to bring an umbrella or rain cover I was kind of stuck, baby in tow and wondering when the rain would stop so I could run home. General debate amongst the neighbours decided that it wasn’t wise for me to run home in the wet so a car was arranged and a kind soul (the retired village Doctor!) drove us home.

We were made to feel truly welcome and it felt great to finally meet up with our neighbours and it feels even better to be able to greet them when I’m out on a stroll or working in the garden.

Vive La Fête des voisins !

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License to kill? Danger on French roads.

One of the most annoying things I find about driving in France is the fact that you don’t actually need to have a driving license to be on the road. “What?!” I hear you say. Well, if you want to drive a normal car and actually get anywhere in a normal time then yes, you need a license, but if somehow you’ve not managed to pass your test or have had your license taken away from you then you can drive one of these:

If you see a car like this be sure to give it a wide berth

Or if that one is a bit to basic how about one of these?

If the first one is too basic how about a nice little convertible?

That’s right, you can still have a car, albeit one that allows you to drive without a license. If you’ve had your license taken away from you say for drink driving, well you can still legally be on the road, drunk and ready to hit a pedestrian, a tree or another car!

This bewilders me. Surely there is a valid reason as to why these people do not have a license?

When I was living in Lyon I had a couple of close calls with these fake cars as I call them. One tried to plough me down on a pedestrian crossing and another carved me up.

Now that I’m living in the countryside it is frequent that I get stuck behind one or have to swerve to miss one. They dawdle at no more than 60 kmh (I think) which is still plenty fast enough to cause damage. Their owners rarely seem to care about other drivers. Indicators? What are they for? Right hand side of the road? No, they can frequently be seen around here wobbling all over the road.

Of course, they are a good method of transport offering independence to those that don’t (or no longer have) a license but to the rest of us they are menace. If they hit a child the consequences could still be fatal.

What to you think? Danger or transport solution?

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The Go Back Home Brigade

Have I become old? It’s been suggested that I’ve become old and less ranty but I think I’ve been keeping a lid on my rants lately, partly due to not have enough time to write but also due to the “go back home” brigade.

 

Yes, that’s right, the GO BACK HOME brigade.

 

Do you know who I’m talking about? Some of you will, some of you won’t. The GO BACK HOME brigade are a certain breed of expats that I have come across this year that tell you to go back home whenever you say anything negative about France or about missing anything from Britain.

 

But they have failed to understand one thing.FRANCEIS MY HOME.

 

This breed of expat is one of the reasons why I have not been so keen on blogging recently and certainly one of the reasons why I have tamed my rants, but pants to them! If they have such a problem and cannot recognize thatFranceis my home then tough luck!

 

I got a lot of stick, nasty comments and horrible emails when I dared to say anything negative about the French medical system and how I was treated after the birth of Baby Piglet earlier this year. I was verbally attacked by people who knew little of my life and who assumed that I was non-French speaking and profiting from the system here.

 

I was called a liar and told to go back to theUKif I was so unhappy with what had happened. This left an extremely bitter taste in my mouth and I found myself censoring my posts and my will to write disappeared.

 

On another blog I was told that I showed no respect for the French culture because I missed certain British foodstuffs and that I should sod off back to theUKif I wanted to eat Branston pickle. I mean how daft is that? Should French people be told to go and live elsewhere when we see them eating in McDonalds?

 

I have never had much to do with expats in the past as my friends tend to be French. I arrived here when I was 16 so grew up here. Since I’ve started blogging I’ve loved feeling part of an expat community and exchanging experiences and I’ve missed it recently.

 

Franceis my home, it has been for the last 15 years and will remain so in the future.

 

There. I’ve said it. Rant over.

 

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Happy Halloween

I’ve seen quite a few blog posts about Halloween today and have come over feeling nostalgic and sad that we won’t be having a party. I love Halloween (okay, I love any excuse for a party) so I will miss not having a party this year and none of the French people I know really go into Halloween so I don’t have any invites to parties either.

It’s rather a case if I want to “do” Halloween, it’s me that has to throw the party. I guess next year will be a childrens party so not quite the same (the goriness will need to be toned down). I have learned that for some people Halloween isn’t all about scary costumes and witches and what not, but more about fancy dress. This has got me wondering why? Is it cultural, does it depend where you grew up? In the UK Halloween was all about the ghouls for me and even now anything scary is good for Halloween.

I may make the effort to try and find some of our old decorations and put a few bits outside just in case there are any trick or treaters but I would be very surprised if there were! In the meantime, here are some pics from one of our previous parties, Happy Halloween!

Mr Piglet will need to tone it down

Butchers Wall

Spooky!

More spookiness

And to think I couldn't even buy a pumpkin this year!

Happy Halloween!

Halloween Booze

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Guest Post on MummyinProvence

Mummy & Baby Piglet

I completely forgot to tell you all that I’ve written a guest post over at MummyinProvence on having a baby in France! No horrific birth stories, just my take on having a baby in France as part of the Global Differences of Baby Making series.

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A letter to the French Social Security

Dear French Social Security People,

I know that you have an ever increasing “hole” in your budget and that you have been trying to find solutions for years on how to maintain the French healthcare system and yet save money so to ensure its future sustainability. I know that you have been unsuccessful and that currently you continue to spend far more money than you collect.

I’m not one for great ideas, especially when it comes to saving money (I am very good at spending it), but I do have an idea that could be mutually beneficial and help save you lots and lots of Euros straightaway but also for years to come.

Currently 8 months pregnant, you have been paying for me to have twice weekly back massages at a physiotherapy since Christmas. I’m not sure of the exact price of these massages as you pay for them, but I think they are in the region of 19 Euros each. So far, that must be over 400 Euros and by the time I give birth, you would probably have spent over 500 Euros on them.

The thing is, the massages don’t really help all that much. Yes they relieve some of the pain but it is a short lived solution. You see, with a big pregnant belly, I cannot lie down but have to sit on a chair. Sitting on a chair is one of things that cause me back pain the first place so it is a catch 22 situation.

But, I have the perfect solution which solves my back problem that you’re already paying for, but also covers other issues at the same time. I consider it as a kind of buy one get several solutions idea. I visited a hairdressing salon and they had the most wonderful massage chair at the wash basins. The hairdresser installs you at the wash basin and the chair reclines automatically into a lying down position elevating your legs (excellent for reducing cankles) and then proceeds to massage your back whilst the hairdresser washes your hair and gives you a relaxing head massage.

The back massage is far more comfortable than at the physiotherapists and much more effective. The head massage is excellent for alleviating stress and tension in the shoulders – something that lots of pregnant women suffer from due to the extra weight they carry on their tummy. Elevated legs reduce swollen ankles and improve blood circulation reducing the need to invest in expensive support tights (which you pay for and which I ladder constantly therefore needing new ones). Finally, the pampering of having one’s hair done at the hairdressers is excellent for boosting self esteem and no doubt has a knock on effect in the future probably saving thousands of Euros in therapy costs post partum.

A once weekly visit is much more effective on me than my twice weekly physio visits, thus saving you half of what you’re already paying as well as the other savings I have mentioned above.

Multiply the savings by the number of pregnant women in France (ie lots!) and you’re probably well on your way to fixing that deficit!

Therefore, I highly recommend that you seriously consider implementing this for all pregnant ladies suffering from back pain. If you would like any addresses or if you have any questions please let me know and I would be willing to assist (for a consultancy fee of course).

Yours Faithfully,

PigletinFrance
Currently sans domicile fixe

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Quick, wrap me up in cotton wool before my next “incident”

Oh my! Vivement that the next 6/7 weeks go by quickly and without any major hiccups as I’m truly beginning to wonder whether I’m going to make it to the end of my pregnancy without disaster and whether I should wrap myself up in cotton wool and stay sat on the sofa all day…

After the “bathroom incident” at les Beaux Parents, I’ve had a couple more incidents including nearly falling down a ditch in front of their house whilst driving at 5 kmh (I have no idea where I was looking) and having the removal men take away all my underwear meaning that I had nothing left for the time we are in limbo (okay so it was a good excuse to go shopping!).

But yesterday I nearly made 4 people, 4 cats, 1 dog and a tortoise homeless when I came very close to burning the in-laws house down.

I was off to meet the lovely Mummy in Provence and little Baby in Provence in nearby Orange for lunch and wanted to look presentable so decided to iron my clothes as a normal person would. Except it wasn’t my iron and after fathoming out how the wretched thing worked, I turned it on and left it to heat up, thinking that I’d make the most of it and iron a few of Mr Piglet’s work shirts whilst I was at it.

I entered the absorbing world of internet for all of about 10 minutes and forgot about the iron until I smelt burning. Horror of horrors! The iron had melted and was working its way through the electric cables! Minutes later and I would have been dealing with a fire! A fire in a wooden house!

Ruined Iron

So now I need to buy a new iron but the MiL isn’t having any of it. She just laughed it off but I am so embarrassed. These poor people must be fed up of me and my accidents already and I’ve only been here for two weeks! By my calculations I’ve got at least another 4 weeks before we move into our new house, I’m just going to have to try really, really hard not to break anything else… I’m using the tumble dryer for the first time this am so wish me luck!

The rest of the day went thankfully without major incident and I had a lovely time with Mummy in Provence and BiP picking up lots of helpful tips on baby care and equipment! I hear BiP is ill today though so I hope she gets better soon! It truly is a pleasure for me to stay in Provence at the moment and hopefully the in-laws will let me come back to visit again once we move out so that I can continue meeting all the great people I’ve met recently.

I did get totally lost driving back from Orange though but it wasn’t all negative. I managed to take a lovely snap of the nearby village to where we’re staying. When I saw it, I thought of Sara in Le Petit Village as it’s just how I imagine Le Petit Village to be…

Le Petit Village near where I'm staying...

One last thing, I’ve finally set up a Facebook page… If you’re on Facebook do drop by and say hello – here it is…

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Blogapalooza, Frenchie Style 2011

A bit blurry but a photo all the same!

A couple of weeks ago I received an invite from the lovely Aidan at Conjugating Irregular Verbs for a lunch get together named Blogapalooza. The only “hic” was that the get together was to take place in Aix En Provence in South of France, quite a drive away from Lyon and that with my bad back and pregnant belly it was unlikely that I would be able to go.

I was delighted to discover that some of the other attendees were going to be accompanied by their husbands so I persuaded Mr Piglet to accompany me if the Doctor gave me the all clear to travel and a week before the get together I had my 8th month pregnancy check up and got the all clear! I was no longer on bed rest and could travel at will. Music to my ears! I was going to get to attend!

I’m quite a shy person and at the moment an insomniac, so was a bit worried about how I would get on with all of these strangers and whether I’d have anything in common with them. Okay, I’d been following their blogs for quite some time, for example I had followed Tanya from before she even moved to France and then there was her wedding and her move to Nice and how could I be worried about not getting on with Sara? I had tried to explain to Mr Piglet who everyone was before arriving, but got stuck on Sara… “she is from Le Petit Village” I said “has a dog called Fifty, is learning French and is a little, well, mad, just like me, or so it seems!”.

But that’s just it, isn’t it? I have been sharing parts of my lives and parts of their lives virtually on the internet now for some time and it was if I was meeting up with a bunch of long lost pals. The fact that we’d all mutually been sharing things and chosen to follow each other out of thousands of other blogs on the internet means something.

The hardest thing for me was dealing with accents in the busy restaurant. When I read blogs on the internet I imagine everyone having an English accent just like me, so lots of American and even Australian accents threw me, and for a while I wanted everyone to come with subtitles as my tired pregnant brain was fogging up on me and I struggled.

But then the restaurant emptied out, as the Aix En Provence people returned to the streets and the shops and suddenly I could hear properly and understand everyone! It was like a light bulb going off in my head, as if someone had taken off the ear mufflers. Either that or the strong espresso coffee woke me up with a jolt!

As Mr Piglet commented on our return journey, it is rare to meet so many people so randomly and get on with them all so well. I think he enjoyed himself as well even though he was a bit taken a back by everyone knowing stuff about our life! Everyone was really great and I am pleased to have met everyone face to face and discover Kirsty’s blog (which I didn’t know before) and also meet B in person and learn so much more about French television and balconies in Cannes!

If you’re not familiar with Aix En Provence, it’s a lovely town, it was my first visit too but I didn’t get much of a chance to look around as I was aching and wanted to get back home. But of course, I could rely on fellow Lyon blogger and attendee Charley to write something and she sure delivered! Have a look at her picture show of Aix en Provence shop windows… makes me want to return for some shopping right now!

So, Blogapalooza for me was a huge success and I hope that after the arrival of Little Miss Piglet I will be able to attend future get together and maybe one day even organize one of my own (maybe with a pole for some pole dancing?). Thank you again Aidan for organizing and for inviting little old me!

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