Living in France: Going back to school
I worked in Language schools in various parts of the world for 30 years and last November, after living in France for nearly two years, I decided to see what it was like on the other side of the desk – away from the chalk-face.
I’d been researching for several months, but kept putting it off as usual. I’d found schools in Toulouse, Perpignan and Montpellier. To be honest, they all seem similar, with recognition (letters IALC is what you look for) and small classes. There is the option of mornings only for over 50s (I’m 60), with tourism and cultural activities in the afternoons, but as I live here and can go to Agde or Marseilles any time, I decided to opt for a more intensive learning experience.
I finally settled for a school in Montpellier for two weeks, with 30 lessons a week. I looked at the accommodation options and knew perfectly well that the best thing to do to improve language is to live with a local family. However, I chickened out as I just couldn’t face the thought of meals ‘en famille’ and all the other impositions of sharing a house with unknown people.
I was surprised at my reluctance as for many years I was a ‘host mother’ to many foreign students of different ages and enjoyed it enormously. Anyway, I’m old enough to know what I want to do and the school booked an apart-hotel. This gives you a little sitting room which converts into a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen equipment, TV and a small balcony. It worked out really well, giving me the independence I needed and a place to relax. I took the train to Montpellier (using my Carte Senior, of course) and then a taxi to my apartment on the Sunday evening.
Monday mornings...
The next day I was due to arrive at the school at 8am to do my test. I was expecting this as it is normal practice and the early start means no time is lost for students only staying a week. Classes are normally roll on, roll off – so a two-week student will find there are new faces in the second half. I also knew that classes would be small – a maximum of 10 students.
Monday started really badly! I couldn’t sleep and woke at 4am to make a cup of tea. I put on the pan (no kettle) and just as I poured the water onto the tea bag – all the electricity in the flat went off with a bang! I was stuck in total darkness. I found my jeans and a sweater and made my way outside and down the stairs barefoot – the thing about these kind of apartments, as opposed to a hotel, is that there is no-one on duty until around 7.30am.
The breakfast lady knew what had happened as soon as she heard me trying to explain ‘power cut’. She took me back upstairs and showed me where the fuse box was. Of course, by the time I’d got everything together and worked out which way to get to the school, I was 45 minutes late for the test and they were not pleased with me. I did what I could in 20 minutes and the odd result was that they placed me in a class rather too high for my level, as they assumed I’d have done better with more time! Probably not true...
After the test, I got to meet the other new students who were probably aged around 22 to 26. Nationalities ranged through Dutch, Swiss German, Korean, German, Colombian, Swedish, Italian and, of course, British (though I only met four). This was excellent as the only language of communication was French, even in coffee breaks.
Rules and regulations
We were given a pep talk about not speaking our own language, only smoking outside the building, being on time and a special note for the ‘girls’ that we should be careful in bars, never leave glasses unattended and always keep a hand over our drink if there was a crowd. He looked round at us all to make sure we could understand. Times have changed since the last time I gave one of those talks.
I was taken to meet my class which comprised three Swiss Germans who were taking an exam, a middle-aged German psychiatrist who was there to study for pleasure, two girls from Colombia who were almost always late and gave the impression of being gratefully near the end of a long stay. There was also a young woman from Bristol who was about to work in the French Congo on a two-year wildlife project. She only had one week in which to get her French up to spec and she was very tense.
Our teacher was very strict, at least in my opinion, and gave us lots of written work and really did expect us to do homework. The Germanic side of the class reveled in her enthusiasm for rules and keeping order – I would probably have preferred a bit more chat!
Lessons begin
I rapidly began to remember being at school and irregular verbs came staggering back into my memory. As I had opted for 30 lessons, I was much too tired at the end of the day to do any writing. Instead I took a leisurely walk back to my flat and then found something to eat locally with a glass or two of wine. I had intended not to do any homework as I’d specified I was only interested in communicative language.
However, over the weekend I quite enjoyed the challenge, knowing that it wouldn’t matter if I got it wrong! I was childishly pleased with the ‘très bien’ the teacher wrote on the page!
In retrospect, morning classes might have been enough – except that the afternoon classes were more mixed and the topics very general, with the emphasis on speaking. The teacher was a young man with a great sense of humour who made a lot of jokes about the ‘Alliance Française’ which determines which words can and cannot be used in France. I learned that ‘bon weekend’ is officially forbidden by the ‘old men in big hats’ and we should all say ‘bon fin de semaine’.
We discussed topics such as attitudes to money, relationships and what we valued in life, and played vocabulary and role-play games. It was a relaxing way of learning, much more like the TEFL that I remember.
Cheese but no wine On top of the classes, the school offered several ‘cultural’ activities. I went to a lecture on cheese and we held a tasting (without wine I’m afraid). On another evening, everyone went to a restaurant that served Lebanese food (strange bit of French culture!). On Friday afternoons, they offered escorted trips to different places by train – on the whole these weren’t taken up and seemed rather overpriced.
I would say it was a great experience, if only for what it taught me about myself and my learning habits! Montpellier is a great town to stay in and the cheap tram service is easy to use and will take you everywhere you need to go. A car in Montpellier is of no use at all.
On the downside, I would say that long-term students taking important exams are mixed together with short-term students who have different needs. This has two knock-on effects; one is that the materials have to be geared to the exam students at least part of the time, the other is that the longterm students are sometimes bored as they see so many new faces in and out of their classes and don’t make much effort to get to know them.
I was surprised there was no director or social organiser or even staffroom. The teachers didn’t seem to mix with each other, but just came and went according to their timetables. I was used to language schools where the feeling of ‘family’ was crucial. Personally, I was happy not to be organised, but felt if I had travelled from the UK, I would have liked a bit more help on deciding what to do in the evenings.
We had plenty of access to computers in the breaks and could drink coffee from a dreadful machine if we stood in a queue. The atmosphere was friendly and I felt quite at home among the students – even though I was the oldest. I would definitely do it again – and maybe choose another city as getting to know Montpellier was part of the event.
In terms of language learning, I am sure there was an improvement – I felt like someone had taken the cork out of the bottle! I now feel much better about engaging others in conversation rather than doing the minimum – I even held a long conversation with the assistant in Géant who asked me if I was really planning to eat the parsnips! I opened the bag and invited her to smell them to get an idea of the taste and said they made great soup, especially with ginger. She thanked me politely – well I’ve got to practice on someone!
Norma went to the ILA Montpellier school