23 September 2002

The First Day of School

Today is the first day of school…the third grade to be exact.  Our little one, Cat was nervous as her French is still “in progress” as I like to say.  She was mostly worried that she can’t count in French above a certain number.  Neither can I so we are in the same boat.

The school doesn’t post the list of classroom assignments until the night before school starts so we didn’t know until yesterday who would be this year’s teacher.  After dinner we cut sunflowers and lavender from the garden to create a bouquet for the teacher.  I ironed all the clothes for school.  Cat took a bath in a mountain of bubbles so she smelled extra good.  She also decided which school supplies to take, and packed her backpack. 

This morning we had a leisurely breakfast, took pictures (our annual tradition for the first day of school) and walked up the hill to school.  There was barely a cloud in the sky. 

Preconceived notions often get me into trouble so I was glad I had no idea what to expect.  I figured a few rules did apply:  be clean and bring a suck up gift.  We were ready for anything.  I was even dressed in a nice skirt and blouse, instead of my usual “I don’t give a damn” outfit of jeans and a shirt.

While we were waiting for the school gate to open we had an opportunity to check out the rest of the parents.  It seemed that every kid had come to school that morning with at least two people.  The kids weren’t dressed up at all, and they didn’t have any suck up gifts.  Maybe the rules that I live by don’t apply to the first day of school in France.

Once the gate opened we had the good fortune to run into David and Cathy, who have two very energetic boys Cat’s age.  David is American and Cathy is French.  David must have learned the same rules as I did because he had on a lime green jacket and a wild tie with smiley face children all over it.  After I saw his outfit I felt better, but don’t ask me why.

The school yard was crazy.  The soft-spoken principal stood up on a bench and made an announcement.  No one but us shut up.  Fortunately at this point we spotted our little one’s teacher who at that very moment disappeared into the school so we sent Cat packing after her through the crowd.  When Cat didn’t return we figured she was safely in her classroom.  The whole event seemed as if they had never had a first day of school before.

Over coffee at the sidewalk café my darling husband reminded me that it is the French way to have chaos instead of standing in neat lines.  I really hate that.

When Cat returned home for lunch she was happy, but still a little worried about going back to school.  Not knowing the higher numbers had already presented a problem that morning.   I figure it’s like falling off of a horse:  you just get right back on; back to school we went.

After dropping Cat off at school I made my usual bi-weekly pass through the market to get some fresh carrot tops or parsley for our rabbit.  The Senlis trash men hadn’t arrived yet to gather up the market garbage.  As I looked around I could feel a man following me.

The next thing I knew the guy came from behind me and touched my arm.  At first I didn’t realize that he was trying to push a 20 euro bill (value of $19.80) into my hand.  I didn’t have to speak French to understand that he thought I was poor and scrounging for food.  Twice I said, “Por moi lapin” (for my rabbit).  I couldn’t stop laughing.  Then he laughed and went on down the street.

All the way back down the hill I kept trying to understand what I was feeling.  It’s the first day of school and some guy thinks I am a bag lady.  What’s the world coming to?