You may have heard tell of the ‘Soirée Anglaise’ which will be taking place in a little Le Havre café next Thursday (19h30 should you bizarrely happen to be around my neck of the French woods). A cultural (we hope) evening celebrating the diversity of the English language, with English, Irish and American input, featuring various drama, poetry, music and at one point hula-hooping performances from all us English assistants ici. Allow me to explain.
At the beginning of my year abroad, a group of us stumbled upon ‘Les Yeux d’Elsa’, a charity bookshop-come-ethnic-café which, as an English student, instantly fascinated me. Sipping my 2 euro hot chocolate amongst antique French Bibles and dusty Beatles cassettes and flicking through that month’s ‘what’s on’ programme, it dawned on me. Why not host our own soirée? After a one-year string of incessant bad luck auditioning for university productions, I know I’ll never be Kiera Knightley (arguably a good thing...not sure I could pull off the corsets), but my inner thespian itched for another performance opportunity, and well...when in France! Anyway, several pleas and a cajoling facebook group later, we’d signed up, and our English extravaganza is now awaited ‘avec impatience’ from many an eager Frenchy (aka the overjoyed café owner desperate to fill up her programme and a couple of dears from my Tuesday night Languages Cafe). We even have flyers.
Now, this all sounds good and dandy, except for one slight problem. Preparation. So far, our rehearsals (all three of them) have consisted of chatter, panic, and a lot of food, be it pizza, fajitas, or crepes. However, we have had the odd brainwave between mouthfuls, meaning somehow a mish-mash show has been slotted together. Acts include a take on Shakespeare’s ‘Hamlet’, various American poems, and even some of my own work! I’m hoping we’ll be able to pull it out of the bag, so watch this space. As they say, it’ll be alright on the night!
Of course, all this planning means a lot of paper, which in turn involves endless trips to the Bibliothèque Municipale for use of my daily 5 page printing allowance. It has recently come to my attention just how fruitful a location this local library is for blog material, most notably last week when I spotted a woman bawling her eyes out at the computer workstation opposite me. Now I know what you’re thinking.... ‘Crying....not the greatest form of comedy Ella...’, but we’re not talking normal ‘I’m-crying-in-a-library-so-must-be-subtle’ style behaviour. Oh no. This lady was really taking measures to ensure everyone was aware of her distress, from intakes of breath so loud and sharp they were reminiscent of a near-drowning dog, to over-exaggerated wails which quite frankly were almost ghoulish! Many a comradely glance was shared between those around me, yet a couple of kindly attempts to pacify said woman only resulted in worsening the situation and the emission of a fire-alarm pitched yelp. However, the most common reaction seemed to be a simple feigned deafness (incredibly difficult given the ever-rising sob volume), yet even I couldn’t help but smile when I witnessed the next move...namely the removal and steady munching and crackling of a packet of peanuts from her handbag. Clearly the best way to deal with overwhelming grief in France is by whipping out a hearty snack, perhaps something I should bear in mind. Next time a class gets that little bit too much for me....out with the Pringles. Sorted.
Speaking of food, my current health kick continues. I am now taking exercise classes up to three times a week, and salad is my new best friend (albeit with oodles of Caesar dressing). The most recent addition to my regime is BodyBalance, or as most of us like to call it...yoga. Unfortunately, I took the regrettable decision of a morning session, meaning I was one of just seven people; the other six all well within the over 60 age-bracket, despite their slinky tops and (too) tight leggings. Whilst I was left pondering whether lycra and retirement are a socially acceptable combination, the coach walked in, and well...attractive does not even cover it. I’m not often one for schoolgirl crushes, and in fact haven’t been since the photo of Gareth Gates in my school locker aged eleven (in an inflatable heart-shaped photo frame may I add), but in the words of ‘Mean Girls’, ‘this one hit me like a big yellow school bus’. I’m not sure if it was the fact he teaches yoga (sensitive side), his drawling French voice reminding me to ‘inspirerrrrrr’ or sheer good looks, but it’s safe to say my fellow assistants and I are smitten. So here’s hoping he doesn’t speak English and/or come across this declaration (although just in case- marry me...?)
Moving on before I start to swoon.....I even went for a run along the beach on Sunday! As the girl who only went running twice in two years with her housemate and complained the whole way each time, I feel this is immense progress for me, and despite my dodgy hip flaring up after BodyBalance (oh the irony) I managed a pretty decent distance. So decent, in fact, that my friend and I decided to reward ourselves with a cooling and celebratory dip in the sea to finish off. In my last blog, you will have noticed my insistence I swim (in) the Channel before leaving Le Havre, however the deed itself lasted no longer than five minutes and involved me and my sports bra, a stunned crowd, a lot of numbness, and a very wet seat on the bus ride home. Still, it’s ticked off the list, but I think I’ll wait for the French Riviera before my next dip!
In other (completely unrelated) news, I’d forgotten how funny this sketch is (Thanks again Leyla!!). Enjoy.
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