What archives used to look like before the digital revolution. Photo by dolescum

Grenoble Life editor James Dalrymple delves into the archives to relive some of the highs and lows of the past few years online in the Capital of the Alps.

A great many articles have been published on Grenoble Life since we started in October 2008, contributed by a wide range of contributors from Britain, the USA and Australia, to India and France itself (or should that be herself?). It occurs to me that a number of them deserve revisiting, if only because I can’t make them all instantly present on the front page at the same time. Moreover,  some my personal favourites – perhaps owing to the dark arts of Google – seem to have fallen off the radar. In any case, here is a little sum-up of what you may have missed from the Grenoble Life archives.

It may be unfashionably erudite for a website built upon social media, but Grenoble Life has hosted a number of well-informed and beautifully written pieces about the city’s rich past. For a potted history of the Capital of the Alps, you won’t do better than this splendid two-parter, while one of the Dauphiné’s more colourful historical characters is dissected, literally, here.

The history of any region of France must also necessarily be the story of its food and drink, and Grenoble is no different. These posts on the popular local green stuff, Chartreuse, and the humble walnut, also known as noix de Grenoble, provide a nice entry point into two regional specialties. Meanwhile the city’s contemporary food culture – from high to low – has been celebrated here in a number of ways, from this ode to Grenoble’s foremost covered market Les Halles Sainte Claire, to advice on where to find “decent hot chillis here and stuff like lemongrass, galangal, and other Southeast Asian vegetables and spices,” or where an “impoverished young person” can get cheap eats “served with customary indifference and a bad attitude.” By contrast, the cities bars and cafés have been received with greater warmth here and here.

With Grenoble being surrounded by mountains, the site has not neglected to mention skiing, particularly the bargain basement variety, while the city itself has been treated as both a travel destination in itself (for once) and the starting point for epic journeys on “The world’s least user-fixable vehicle.” Skiing asides, the imposing massifs have also provided inspiration to budding climbers and photographers alike, proving there is more to the Alps than the snow, while Grenoble Life’s armchair mountain enthusiasts have been able to “take a walk on the wild side.”

If that convinced you that Grenoble only catered for les sportifs, I would like to think – from its thriving music and cinema scene (covered here and here) to its brocantes – the cultural side of the city has not been entirely neglected. Add to that the opportunities for young people to participate in English-speaking theatre and musical events for a charitable cause, the city has something to offer for those, like myself, with “gym commitment issues.”

Grenoble Life hasn’t always been about consensus, however. The French education system has proved a passionate subject among English-speaking residents past and present, both for its detractors and supporters.  The exigencies of French administration have also come under scrutiny, whether it be for starting your own business or simply getting a valid visa.

A critical eye has also been cast upon Grenoble’s public conveniences, albeit with a wink, while the greatest controversy was sparked by Grenoble Life’s Daily Deconstructionalist, sadly inactive of late, whose acerbic takes on French road safety campaigns and the City of Grenoble Magazine drew a colourful response. While there is no harm in vigorous debate, perhaps it was the gathering clouds of acrimony that inspired me to write this well-attended general Grenoble love-in.

And all this barely scratches the surface, given that I have not mentioned the many illuminating interviews and practical posts that have graced these pages over the years. I hope that Grenoble Life will continue to be a source of information, discussion and amusement to English-speaking residents for some time to come. That said, I should mention that none of this would have been possible without the goodwill of aforementioned contributors, and that I still very much welcome your blogging suggestions, no matter how subjective they are, or how new to the city you may be. Your participation is, and has always been, the life-blood of the site.

The shape of things to come!

In the third and final part of her blog about being an expecting mother in France, Shonah Wraith describes the last three months of her pregnancy.

Before you leave your house this trimester you might want to read this article! There is an ever increasing need to use facilities, rest and organise at this stage of the process.

This trimester follows on very closely to the second, in terms of what you have to do at the doctors and the laboratoire d’analyses médicales. You continue on your monthly visits to the doctor and they basically follow the same template:

Doc: “Hello. How are you feeling?”
Me: “Good thank you, all seems well”
Doc: “Good, Please go behind that screen…”
Doc: “OK, all looks good, blood pressure fine, weight OK”
Me: “OK”
Doc: “See you next month, thank you”

By the time my last appointment came and went within a matter of five very small units of time I was really upset that that was all. I had been reading many books from the UK saying that in the last month you see a midwife every week, they hold your hand and walk you through every step of this nerve-racking time. Because, even though for the last six months you have known you are pregnant, it is not really until you are doing ante-natal classes, practising breathing, visualising the work that is in front of you that you really realise you are pregnant and you have to get this “little” bundle out into the world, somehow!

Perhaps France is pregnancy for the fearless! No hand-holding. No floaties. Just jump in at the deep end and swim and here are some cold hard medical facts to help you keep afloat! Speaking of the medical side of the third trimester, there are some prescriptive activities you need to undertake within these three months.

You will continue to have your monthly blood tests, plus some. At about 28 weeks you will have to have your blood glucose measured – allow time for this. You have to go to the laboratoire d’analyses médicales in the morning, have blood taken, drink an extremely sweet drink, sit in the waiting room for an hour and then have more blood taken. Take a good book! Apparently it is a good idea not to indulge in delicious sugary goodies in the 24 hours preceding this. Unfortunately I read this the morning of my test, so I could not take back the scones, cappuccino and caramel slice I had eaten the evening before! But, to put your minds at rest, I passed.

Somewhere closer to the end of the pregnancy you have to have a swab taken – and just a heads up, this is not a mouth, ear or nose swab. This is also done at the laboratoire d’analyses médicales, no book necessary!

The French are very pro-epidural – péridurale – therefore it is necessary to have a visit with an anaesthetist before giving birth. He or she will ensure you are physically able to have the procedure done, then you will have a big green tick on your file to say YES you are able. Then they can wait outside the salle de travail for you to give them the nod of approval, which allows them to come and relieve your discomfort with a really huge needle! You may want to check with you doctor where this appointment takes place – mine was at the clinic I was going to give birth in – then any number of the 20 anaesthetists that worked there would be the one to administer the epidural.

It is also a good idea – if where you are going to give birth offers it – to do a tour of the facility. As each clinic/ hospital is different it is good to see what you need to do in terms of checking in (I went to the clinique Belledonne and I did not check in until about two months prior to giving birth. However, as mentioned before, each clinic and hospital have their own regulations. It is worth checking with your doctor what the process involves. From speaking to other Mums to be, some had to check in within the first three months!), where to arrive, do you need to call before-hand, who is allowed in the salle de travail and what happens in the cases of unexpected emergencies. This process helps you to feel more in control over a situation you really have no control over!

And, of course this trimester you have the final look at your baby before you meet them in person, in the third of three ultrasounds. If you have made the decision not to find out the sex of your little one, I would be tempted not to look at the screen during this process. I only say this as the only thing we saw – and could definitely decipher – of our son’s anatomy during this scan was two rather large appendages directed squarely at the transducer (on two separate occasions mind you!), and he wasn’t waving with both hands or “hanging ten”! So, if we didn’t know before that moment we were having a boy, we would have had NO DOUBTS after this ultrasound.

One last piece of paperwork that you may need to deal with. Fully paid maternity leave in France is 16 weeks in total. It is mandatory to have six weeks leave prior to giving birth. This leaves you with 10 weeks post birth (and they take into account delivering late or early). But, if you would like to have more time post birth, you can get a doctor’s certificate – from your gynaecologist – to say you are fit and healthy and able to work longer. Be aware if you do get this letter, you MUST give it to your social security office immediately, otherwise they will dispute your “extra” time off post natal. Also when considering this remember, by the end of the third trimester you will more than likely want some time to rest, the baby could come early, and if there is such a thing as a “rest bank” now is the time to make mammoth deposits as post birth the withdrawal rate is phenomenal!

Now relax, enjoy and prepare to close the covers on one story in preparation to commence another – of epic proportions.

Bonne chance!

Please note this is purely a subjective account of this situation in France

The many flags of the Open House logo

English-speaking voyager Maureen Walsh describes the soft landing in Grenoble provided by the local expat association Open House.

Our sojourn from the United States this past July and our settlement in Grenoble for my husband’s one year sabbatical at the Grenoble Ecole de Management was sometimes fraught with both expected and unanticipated difficulties and inconveniences. Getting our OFII (l’Office Français de l’Immigration et de l’Intégration) stamps, cellphone, TV and Internet service, bank accounts and apartment in our adopted city took time, energy and patience. Now that that is behind us, it struck me how those trials were often softened by all the hospitable people who put out the “welcome mat” for us here in Grenoble.

Before we had left Raleigh, North Carolina for Grenoble, I had done a cursory Internet search for possible groups we might join to integrate ourselves more easily into French culture. At that time I came across Grenoble Life’s March 2010 piece, Anglophone Grenoble, a rough guide, and its reference to Open House Grenoble, a group that has been around helping English-speaking voyagers just like us since 1987. I tucked the link into my computer favorites list thinking that it just might be what we were looking for once we had finally touched down in Grenoble.

After settling into Grenoble, I bee-lined to the Open House Grenoble website to find some particulars about upcoming events we might be able to enjoy. I saw that they held a weekly Tuesday morning informal get-together called Coffee Chat at a local café where the conversational language was English. It sounded like the perfect introduction to the organization without having to broadcast our beginning French language ineptitude. We met at that time in the centre ville at Pain et Cie, but have since moved to Take-Away at La Caserne de Bonne. We were delighted to find a mixture of amicable French and English speaking people who seemed eager to befriend us.

Soon after, those of us who were regulars at Coffee Chat questioned why a similar morning meet-up couldn’t be created for speaking solely in French. (Yikes!) Café Français was born this January and slowly built a following on Thursday mornings coming together at our old stomping grounds, Pain et Cie café. This became a great opportunity to share a coffee, stumble over our French words and have native French speakers patiently help us with the practical issues we have negotiating life here in Grenoble.

When my husband, Steven, and I formally became card-carrying OHG members in September, we discovered the French-English Exchange group that meets two Friday mornings a month at CLEF (Association des Centres de loisirs Enfance et Famille). This group converses on impromptu topics and plays often humorous games aimed at language learning, dividing the time together between French and English conversations.

Getting our feet wet with the language groups led us to check out other OHG interest groups. No one organization can be all things to all people, but Steve and I have found that we can dabble in many groups that appeal to us. We have sometimes found our way on Thursday evenings to local Grenoble pubs including Le Family Pub for Chill-Out Evenings, stopping to share a drink and some conversation. And for me, the former English major, the Open House Book Group has filled a special spot. Our circle of between 10-12 bookworms gathers at the café, Le 5, at the Musée de Grenoble once a month where lively, stimulating and intelligent conversation ensues about the books we read in English. In the same location, once a month the Creative Writers Alliance meets to support both fledgling and veteran writers alike allowing them to share their trials and triumphs.

There are some OHG groups that we won’t be joining. Since we don’t have young children here in Grenoble, we don’t fit into the Baby & Toddler Activities group nor will we be participating in the holiday-related activities suited for older children. But as we still have some time ahead of our departure and with Spring on the horizon, we hope to join some of the outdoor groups that participate in Mountain & Outdoors activities and Cycling. Of interest, as well, is the fitness-oriented Wellness group that comes together at CLEF on Tuesday evenings with Hula dancing or occasional workshops featuring activities such as yoga, shiatsu, reflexology or aromatherapy.

Last, but definitely not least, OHG also provides opportunities to delve into the gustatory world. We already drink BEAUCOUP de café et de thé during language exchanges, but there is also an active Wine Tasting group which explores regional wines in members’ homes. With the planned monthly Lunch Out opportunities we can sample different Grenoble restaurants in the company of other adventuresome souls. Recently, we lunched at the Hôtel Lesdiguières, the lycée for hotel and restaurant management here in Grenoble, but with the myriad of restaurants in Grenoble we have an eclectic list from which to choose. Open House has also in past years hosted a Christmas Apéro and a Summer Picnic where members and their families have gathered together for good food and fun times in the spirit of the seasons.

Our life in Grenoble has undoubtedly been filled with one-of-a-kind opportunities and welcoming people. We have been fortunate to be able to partake of the Open House Grenoble activities, and we’re going to truly miss all these good friends when we must return to the U.S. So the next time a friend from home asks me how I spend my time here, I’ll just have to point them to this article or to our blog, A Year in Grenoble, and let them envy all the convivial opportunities we’re going to very reluctantly leave behind with our Open House friends.

The London Pub. Photo: Guillaume Cattiaux

In the second part of her blog Footprints in Grenoble, American student Aleigha Page talks about French mealtime etiquette and her favourite establishments for desserts, coffee and people-watching.

Studying abroad in Grenoble is by far one of the best life choices I have made. I have been able to learn about and live in a new city that prior to the study abroad process, I had never heard of. In my opinion, Grenoble is the perfect size city for study abroad. It is large enough to offer variety, but yet it is small enough so that it is not overwhelming. The centre ville (city center) is where most of the stores, restaurants, cafés, pubs, and nightlife are. I live in the centre ville and therefore I am within walking distance of everything I need: places to shop, cafés, and nightlife.

In French fashion, Grenoble is replete with cafés, offering in and out door sitting. One of my personal goals for studying abroad was to establish a regular café. I shopped around for my café during my early weeks, and I found it. Pain & Cie is my favorite café in Grenoble because it is large and spacious, offering a warm atmosphere. The interior has hardwood floors, stone walls, and an unfinished wooden ceiling. The tables are made of thick wood with metal chairs. The coffee they serve here is organic, and on every table is a glass filled with white and brown sugar cubes. I generally order an espresso but, once a week, I treat myself to a café au lait, which is coffee and steamed milk, and it is served in a bowl here. I throw in a couple of sugar cubes and stir them around the foam. The desserts at Pain & Cie are delicious. I do not know the exact name of my favorite dessert here, but it is a multiple layered chocolate creation. Three of the layers are cake, two are a chocolate mousse, a few thin layers of caramel, and then, the bottom layer is a textured, nutty tasting layer. I have made speculations that it is either a praline mousse, or a hazelnut spread. For chocolate lovers, this cake is a must on your to-do list. Not a big chocolate fan? No worries, because they have cheese cake that is absolutely divine, but I am sure any of their wide selections are equally delicious.

As for nightlife, Grenoble is full of places to find a pint of beer or a glass of wine. One of my favorite pubs is The Subway Bar, which attracts a hip, sporty crowd of French students. The drinks are very inexpensive here – I can get a pint for three euros, and they have a “cocktail of the week” for two euros, which are excellent choices for a student budget. London Pub is another I enjoy because of their atmosphere. It is London-themed, and covered in British memorabilia – Beatles posters, pictures of Big Ben, football tournaments, etc. There is always a huge crowd here, which makes for a fun night. My final favorite place is Tord Bayeaux, literally ‘twisted guts’ or ‘rotgut’. This bar has a wall filled with little barrels of strange wine flavors. My favorite flavor is a green, apple kiwi wine, which tastes like hard candy. They also play fun music here, such as the Lion King song “Hakuna Ma Tata”.

I enjoy promenading around the centre ville, without any particular direction, weaving in and out of stores to see what they have on display. On warm, sunny days, there are always lots of people sitting outside cafés, on benches, or walking around. I think it is very interesting to pick a park bench and people watch. I am continuously fascinated to see what people are wearing, how they wear it, and their interaction with others. One observation I have made is that I see fewer people walking around with a cell phone attached to their ear than I do in the US. Granted, I do see the phones out quite a bit, but not as frequently compared to where I live. There is always a vendor nearby to purchase a gauffre (waffle) or crêpe to munch on while people-watching.

Long before settling on Grenoble for my study abroad destination, I always knew that I wanted to live with a host family, because they can offer aspects of French culture far better than I could pick up living on my own. Dinner time is when I spend the most time with my host parents, and it usually lasts an hour. I have been able to learn French mealtime etiquette, and several traditional dishes. Etiquette is very important to the French – even at the campus cafeteria and an elementary school I visited they use all three eating utensils and eat in three courses. The French typically have wine or water with their dinners, and bread on the side. The hostess serves the wine, and will ask if you would like more. Never ask, and never, ever, touch the wine bottle. For bread, leave it to the side of the plate on the table, and tear off small bits. Do not eat it whole. A salad is served as the first course, or the entrée. Le plat principal (main dish) generally consists of a meat and vegetable, or quiche with my host family. Dessert can range from a cup of pudding to fruit to a homemade dish. I love that the French treat their food so respectfully and make meal time feel special.

My time here in Grenoble is quickly winding down, but the experience has been amazing. I have made friends that I am sure will last a lifetime because there are no other people who will ever 100% understand my stories about studying here other than those with whom I made these memories. Aside from learning French and about France, I have learned quite a bit about myself. Being outside of the bubble that is my life, I have had the time to reflect on what I want out of my life, who matters in my life, and what I want to accomplish. Studying abroad has not only opened my eyes to a new culture, but also to a new aspect of me.

Read part one of Footprints in Grenoble

An ultrasound scan. Photo: j.dopf

In the second part of a blog about her experience as an expecting mother in France, Grenoble Life’s Shonah Wraith describes her second trimester.

Now comes the very exciting and somewhat invigorating part of this process. The wonderful second trimester. Somewhere around the 13th or so week there is a renewed sense of vigor. There is no need to put your head down on the nearest solid surface and close your eyes for the uncountable time that hour! Amazing!

Holding onto this feeling – and a very full bladder – you are able to walk into the darkened ultrasound room and see what was last a peanut and now resembles something larger than a peanut and perhaps for the first time your partner gets to see this phenomena too!

There are lots of measurements taken and not a lot of them will make sense. However the very reassuring aspect about having a baby in France is that, medically speaking, you and your growing foetus are well taken care of. If the doctor* notices anything out of the ordinary he/ she will tell you and give you instructions accordingly. And adversely when things are OK, they will let you know.

From my experience after this ultrasound the doctor gives you (yet another) prescription to have (yet more) blood tests done and very specifically a blood test to check for the possibility of downs syndrome. Now, before you go to the laboratoire d’analyses médicales to fill this script, you have to wait until you receive a very specific letter from your doctor and go between the dates he/she gives. Armed with these bits you can go and have your blood tests done. Alternatively, you can do what I did and not listen to the doctors’ instructions (or I put it down to being totally overwhelmed by experiencing the ultrasound – and I am standing by this!) then have the lovely secretary at the laboratoire try to explain in her slowest French that you have done it all wrong! As a side note, the laboratoire will become very familiar to you and everyone is more than happy to help. My only piece of advice is to get the little container for your “sample” at the visit before you need it, as the “sample” needs to be fresh from the morning of your visit.

This ultrasound was the marker for my husband and I to tell people. We asked more than once, during the ultrasound, if the doctor thought everything was OK, and given his countless reassurances we felt confident we could tell our most treasured secret to the world! This was at week 14, so not only did we have to tell the world, but the French authorities in the form of the CAF and the CPAM.

At your ultrasound the doctor will also give you the appropriate paperwork to give to these authorities, which by law you have to do by week 14. But be aware of all the other information you will need – passport, titre de séjour, husband’s taxable income for the previous year, your taxable income for the previous year if applicable, social security numbers, work contracts, bank codes and what you ate for breakfast for the last 10 consecutive days.

Now, do not fear if you forget something they will surely let you know, but this will delay the process of you being “on the books”. All of this running around (see full training in process!) will be well worth it, as: 1) you won’t have to do it in the foggy haze of the post-partum period; and 2) If it is all done on time the government gives you a financial reward in the seventh month to assist with the baby (I believe it is more a prize for passing the French bureaucracy test!) … but do not fear if you have not done it correctly or on time, you will still receive this reward, with a delay.

AND now ENJOY! You should be “glowing” and showing. SO instead of just feeling a little bloated, your pregnancy body should be well visible. On this subject you may need pregnancy clothes, underwear, oils and potions. There may be some fabulous shops in Grenoble – and if there are I would like to know for future reference – but I was not able to find any for clothes or underwear and outsourced all of mine from the UK and Australia.

Mothercare is great, but sadly do not deliver internationally anymore – time to reconnect with long lost friends and relatives in the UK! Also bio-oil is one of the nicest things I have ever applied to my body. Sadly, it is not available in France (it supposedly helps prevent the dreaded stretch marks) and would well be worth getting it from somewhere/someone!

Another activity that is wonderful to add to your training regime is yoga and, posssibly at the end of the trimester, starting ante-natal classes. A compassionate sage-femme who conducts all of this (and more for the post-partum period) is Catherine Muguet. She will even do your ante-natal classes in English (fully refundable on social security)!

Toward the end of the semester your old friend fatigue may come knocking on your door. Welcome him in and put your feet up – remember you are growing a person in there!

You then enter the tapering off stage of the training and preparing for “the event”. Where the line seems but a hazy memory and your expanding mid-section reminds that you are closer to the end of this process and nearer to the start of another.

*My doctor did three out four of the ultrasounds. The 4th was done by a partner doctor in the practice. I understand from speaking to other people, it really depends on where you go as to the process you must undertake to have your ultrasounds done. Also when I say four ultrasounds I am also counting the internal ultrasound you have at six weeks, mentioned in the previous post.

Please note this is purely a subjective account of this situation in France

Les timbres!

US newcomer Maureen Walsh reports on obtaining long-stay and student visas through the Office Français de l’Immigration et de l’Intégration for a year in Grenoble.

Arriving as newcomers to Grenoble from a small town in North Carolina in July 2010, my husband, Steve, and I were trying to carefully follow the letter of the French law regarding completing the steps necessary for our stay in France. He had recently been accepted into the AQ Bridge Program at the Grenoble Ecole de Management. This was an opportunity to spend a sabbatical year away from his position as the NC State University Director of the Engineering Entrepreneurs Program and explore new possibilities in a foreign country. So it would have surprised many of our friends to know that in our initial 2 ½ months stay in France, we hadn’t actually perfected all of the legalities. This was not malice aforethought, mind you, but only due to the timing of our arrival. Not until the middle of September 2010 did we get things settled! That was when our little yellow OFII (Office Français de l’Immigration et de l’Intégration) cards were pasted inside our American passports. We breathed a sigh of relief. We were now “bona fide”!

The process began in North Carolina. Since we hoped to stay in Grenoble for a full year, Steve applied for a student visa, and I needed a long-term stay visa in order to live in France. That involved a LOT of paperwork – there was the NC State Bureau of Investigation report, an FBI report, fingerprinting, certifications from our bank as to our financial worth, proof of health insurance, proof of purchase of airline tickets, certified birth certificates, marriage certificate, proof of acceptance into a French school, statements from me regarding the reason I was applying for entry into France along with a promise that I would not work while in France, and proof of a commitment to a residence in France (rental contract). It seemed like the list would never end.

We needed three copies of each item for both of our folders and this all had to be translated into French. In addition, there was the Long Stay Visa application form (Demande Pour Un Visa De Long Séjour) and the OFII form (Visa de Long Sejour-Demande D’Attestation OFII) with the top part filled out. A lot of trees sacrificed their lives for our trip to, and our stay in, France.

Once we had assembled all that, we made an appointment to go to our regional French Consulate in Atlanta, Georgia – a “mere” seven hour drive away. We made this appointment on-line and traveled there on an overnight trip in April. The meeting was not what we expected. I thought we would be invited into a cozy room to meet with a consulate representative to present our paperwork and be interviewed – perhaps accompanied by a glass of French wine, too? On the contrary, we arrived and soon discovered that the official Long Stay Visa application form posted on the website of the French Consulate in Atlanta that we had printed and completed, in “impeccable French” I might add, had just been completely changed the previous week. The new questions didn’t match the previous form. A sense of impending doom followed by a mild feeling of panic began to spread within the confines of my head. We stood at a narrow counter and worked to fill out the new form on the fly sans dictionnaire!

When the interview process took place, we were standing at another counter with the consulate employee sitting behind glass with a tiny slot through which we passed our massive paper pile in 8 to 10 pages stages. Time stood still. The employee would ask us questions (in French) and forget to turn on the microphone. We had to continually ask the him to repeat his questions and to turn on the sound – I thought I was living the drive-up window scene in the movie, Wayne’s World. He swiftly shuffled our papers, picked up the phone a few times to call France and kept looking at Steve suspiciously because he was applying for a Student Visa. This was the first line of defense those in America encounter in their quest for a visa to France! (Does the word perspiration mean anything to you?)

We left the office exhausted and made the return drive home. And waited … Our passports with our visas pasted in were returned to us about a month later in the prepaid FedEx envelopes that we had provided. Another hurdle passed. We were on our way to France!

Once we entered France via Switzerland, the next step for us was to find a permanent residence. We had arranged to stay in an extended-stay apartment for our first month in Grenoble, but we would need a more permanent address for the duration of our stay. In addition, we needed fixed and mobile phone numbers to put on the OFII form. Would it ever end? After the arduous work to acquire those, we sent off the paperwork by registered mail on August 4th. Timing for that was not, shall we say, optimum. We soon learned that most of France is not working in August because ils sont en vacances! Finally, we received letters telling us that our OFII forms had been received. We still had to wait to be contacted for our appointments to complete the process. A week and a half later, a letter arrived outlining what we needed to do for our appointments that were scheduled for the 16th of September for Steve and the 17th for me.

We were nearing the finish line! We needed to have a un examen radiographique, un photo tête nue, un examen clinique général and beaucoup d’argent. For the money part, we visited the Préfecture for taxe perçue à l’occasion de la délivrance du premier titre de séjour. This meant we had to buy des timbres á la caisse de préfecture in advance to cover the fee for the OFII validation. The timbres look like postage stamps and are similar to the stamps paid for when you complete a purchase on a house. For Steve that amounted to 55€ ($71.75) and for me, 340€ ($443.57) (exchange rate: 17/09/2010). We understand that in the U.S. the amount can be closer to $1,000.00 per person, so we think we got a bargain.

As a student, Steve had to first go to the Centre de Santé which is located near the train station in Grenoble and have a basic physical. Then, two days later, he needed to board tram C and head off to the Domain Université Centre de Santé to get a chest x-ray at one of those mobile units set up in a parking lot. A week later he returned to the first Centre de Santé to pick up his certified medical certificate. Finally, he was instructed to go to the OFII office with all his paperwork to complete the process. He was told they take a limited number of applicants each day. Since they don’t make specific appointments, show up early and try to get in the door – at 6’2″ and 90 kgs he was ready for action. He arrived an hour before the opening and was the first one in line. He presented all his pieces to the puzzle, and they pasted a card in the passport and covered it with a film cover. One down, one to go.

My requirements were a little different. As I am not a student, I was instructed to report to the OFII office at 13h 30 for my x-ray, and my medical exam would be at 14 h. I was pleased. It seemed that I had an appointment and would escape the running around that Steve had had; it would be “one-stop shopping”. Wrong. I arrived at 13h25 (the bureau is closed from 12h until 13h30 for lunch) and found a long line of people waiting for the opening. I joined the line, and I glanced at the paper the person in front of me held. It looked just like mine. Exactly! We ALL had the SAME appointment time.

The overworked employee at the desk dealt with people speaking many different languages. Some were anxious (like me), and some became belligerent when they were told their dossier was incomplete and that they would have to return with some other required paperwork. After sitting in the too-small waiting room for a half-hour, I was called back for the exams. The x-ray tech showed me to a dressing room and told me to disrobe to the waist. I looked around for the usual jacket I always get to put on when I have any upper body pictures taken. Nothing. Leave your modesty at the door. That done, I moved on to the nurse. She weighed me, stuck me for, as she said, “le sucre” (diabetes test), took my blood pressure, and then we proceeded to the height and eye charts.

If you know the French alphabet pronunciation, you remember that vowels and some consonants are pronounced differently from their English look-a likes. (i is “e”, e is “ai”, g is “jay”, j is “gee.”) We had to remind ourselves of that when responding. As a side story, we have an Australian friend who told us of her experience at OFII. She didn’t know any French when she arrived, and when she read the eye chart, she answered using the English (Australian) pronunciation of the letters. The medical people all thought that she was legally blind!

Getting our OFII stamps has given us the freedom we need to fully enjoy our experience here in Europe. Until we got that, if we had left France, we were told, we would not have been allowed to re-enter through the borders without returning to the U.S. and reapplying for a new visa. With our OFII stamps and our American passports, we can pursue our wanderlust. It didn’t take us long to pull out the map and start eyeing all the possibilities that became open to us with just that “little yellow card.”

To see our further adventures, please visit our blog: walshesingrenoble.wordpress.com

examen radiographique: xray
un photo tête nue: photo of a head without a covering
un examen clinique général: medical exam
le taxe perçue à l’occasion de la délivrance du premier titre de séjour: the charge collected at the issue of the first residence permit
le caisse de prefecture: prefecture cashier
centre de santé: health center

A detail from The Crucible poster

Camille Bromley reviews the Upstage production of Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, running at Ste-Marie-d’en-Bas until Saturday March 19.

In an ambitious choice, this year’s Upstage production is The Crucible, Arthur Miller’s dramatization of the Salem Witch Trials and allegory of 1950s McCarthyism. Upstage, Grenoble’s finest English-language theater group, and made up of high school students from the Cité Internationale, never fails to put its best foot forward and this year I was quite looking forward to seeing how the young actors would treat such a sober and violent subject.

But I was wrong in thinking that the Upstage group would rise up to the mature themes presented in the play; in fact, I found that the themes treated in the play spoke very well to adolescence, and as such the teenage actors did a wonderful job of bringing this out to the audience. After all, the accused-cum-accusers that fuel the drama are the young girls found to be “dancing” in the woods—girls much the same age as the actors playing them. And a large part of the horror felt by the puritan townspeople of Salem and subsequent finger-pointing comes from a disbelief that these “children,” who are actually young women, could be capable of lying, vengeance, deception, and sexual acts. Not to mention the fuss raised in our day and age over peer pressure — from Act I we see the influence of the group working on each individual girl, until one by one they crack from the pressure and join the ranks of the accusers, condemning others to save their own skin.

The Crucible’s cast includes a healthy representation of female actors, but the male actors held their own, occupying no less challenging, if less terrifying, roles. John Proctor, conflicted and confounded by the women in his life, is the victim in Act IV of a nail-baiting interrogation of circuitous logic administered by the very severe Deputy Governor Danforth, in which he realizes hopelessly that to be accused is already a condemnation, and a dishonest confession may be better than a righteous death.

Passionate performances (screams, shrieks, tears, thundering accusations, uncontrollable trembling and general hysteria) were given by most of the cast, notably the character of Mary at the climax of the play, and there were several standout character performances, especially Giles Corey complete with cane and fabulous accent. And Upstage didn’t forget their signature interjections of humor (“We saw our gym teacher with the devil!”), as difficult as it is to inject humor into such a play.

The simplicity of the set design and the subtle lighting cast a barren, chilled atmosphere as background to the action, and left the attention on the performances. As always in the Theater Ste-Marie-d’en-Bas, the intimacy of the room and conviviality of the bar made for a pleasant evening.

Kudos to directors Dave Simpson, Julie Valade, Claude Deladoeuille, and Therese Zanone for another impressive performance by Upstage. But I have to admit, after witnessing such a “world gone mad,” I sure was glad leaving the theater, feeling secure in being a little less mad than them.

Test de grossesse

In the first part of a blog about her experience as an expecting mother in France, Grenoble Life’s Shonah Wraith (née Kennedy) talks about finding out she was pregnant.

Even though discussions had been had, plans had been made and action put into place, it was a big shock when suddenly I found myself at the chemist asking for a test de grossesse.  The pharmacist was very kind explaining the best time to do this test for the best results – and as I am a stickler for rules I then had to wait until first thing the next morning to do the business on the stick. So it happened that at 5am I was attempting to re-read instructions, aim onto a very narrow stick to do what seemed to be the most difficult test I had ever sat – one that I couldn’t ever have studied for. It did not take long to realise what I had suspected for a few days.  All I can say about this moment is – savour it. This is the time you can breath and realise that what you have wanted has become a reality.  Take time before the other reality of doctors appointments, blood tests, getting a mutuelle and possible incomprehensions take over.

Ahhhhh! Breathe in, breathe out…

Once you have done this as many times as is necessary you have to get une ordonnance from your médecin traitant for a blood test to confirm the heart palpitations of excitement the little purple/ blue/coloured line gave you. I merely rang my doctor and asked for the prescription, rather than making an appointment with him.  He had the prescription waiting for me in his surgery, I picked it up and went to the local laboratoire d’analyses médicales for the blood test.  The following afternoon I had the positive confirmation.

Then you have to ring – who now seems like your best friend – your doctor and see him/her. The doctor will read the results and reiterate to you that you are indeed pregnant! They will then give you an estimated date of arrival, another ordonnance for a blood test to determine your blood type (you will then be given a carte de groupe sanguine – you will need to keep this for the whole process), toxoplasmosis and rubella and also suggest a gynécologue/obstétrician. Of course you could choose your own, if you had a preference of where to go. It seems to me, the place you give birth is determined by where your gynaecologist is located. Next mission* is to call this doctor, make an appointment and wait.

And waiting seems to be the word for the first trimester.  You know you have crossed the line, but there are so many potential obstacles that you don’t feel like you are truly training for the race properly. Your daily life is meant to continue, but somewhere in the background (more often than not in the foreground if you suffer from morning sickness, tiredness and uncountable trips to amenities!) of everything you do there is “that thing” that no one else knows. You go to the gynaecologist’s office and feel like an imposter amongst all the big-bellied women!

Oh!  And while you are waiting you might want to look into a mutuelle if you don’t already have one.  Especially if you want to go down the clinique route and have a private room when the time comes. As I previously said this whole process happened a lot quicker than we had anticipated, so I was looking for an appropriate mutuelle before crossing the line, however had not made a decision before the result. I was nervous that I would then not be able to have a mutuelle. However, in France, with the company I decided to go with, pregnancy is not classed as a pre-existing “condition” and I was covered instantly.

Next to the first appointment, which in a word is amazing.  Once again the doctor will confirm to you what the stick, laboratory and your first doctor told you, but this appointment is like watching your favourite movie – that you have seen countless times – in technicolour WITH surround sound … you see this tiny peanut shape and hear “the” heartbeat.

Now, it is such a personal choice whether or not you tell people within the first trimester that you are pregnant.  My husband and I decided to wait to tell anyone, so wait we did for another agonisingly long six weeks.  During this time, though, there are many places to visit virtually.  You can follow what your creation is up to, while you can’t physically see what is going on.  Some sites I found really useful during this time were

• Baby Centre (where you can choose UK or US)
• Huggies (where you can choose the country of your choice)
• Having a baby in France practical information

And if you are impatient to buy books the bookworm café has a great selection.  However, if you are trying to be discreet you can buy books from Amazon.fr and the book depository, both of which have free delivery.

You then enter into the declaration and echographie stage!  When the line is well and truly behind you and the training moves into full swing!

*My doctor also gave me un’ordonnance for an echographie.  However, when I visited my gynaecologist he did the echographie in his office, and there was no need for me to go to a seperate place for this.  This may depend on your gynaecologist.

Please note this is purely a subjective account of this situation in France

Grenoble depuis "la montée de Chalemont". Photo: FrenchHope

In the first part of her blog Footprints in Grenoble, American student Aleigha Page shares her first impressions of studying abroad in the Capital of the Alps. 

My name is Aleigha; I am an American student studying here in Grenoble for the spring semester. I began my study-abroad research fall of my freshman year, and I was immediately drawn to the catalogue featuring Grenoble. The mountains, the globes which take one up to the Bastille, and pictures of wild flowers growing on the mountainside all convinced me that Grenoble was the city for me.

Off the beaten path

I like that it is a little off the beaten path of European study abroad destinations, but that certainly does not mean life in Grenoble is boring! Grenoble offers a happy medium of big city and country nearby. The centre-ville is fabulous, and offers every store one could ever imagine! There are restaurants, cafés, brasseries, pubs, bakeries, and so much more. 

Just because Grenoble is in the mountains, does not mean it is removed from culture. But I also love the fact that the mountains are in easy reach of the city. I have hiked up the Bastille twice, and both times offered the best view of the city. The Bastille is a very old fortress built into the side of the mountain, which served as a prison and has now been converted into a hiking trail. When the weather warms up a tad, I intend to make many more hiking expeditions. 

Arrival

My first day in Grenoble began after a three hour long train ride from Paris, after three days of sightseeing the City of Lights. Needless to say, I was exhausted by the time I made it to Grenoble. I walked into the Grenoble train station, trying to wrap my head around the fact that this new city was about to become home for the next four months. I gingerly stood with the other students in my group as we observed the group of host families.

When my name was called, my host mother and I shyly made our way toward each other. I was thrilled to finally meet the person whose home I would be staying in! But all in approximately two seconds, it occurred to me that she knew absolutely nothing about me, other than the obvious statistics: American female student here to study French. And I knew little about her other than she was an artist who worked from home, enjoyed cooking, and lived in Grenoble.

I was not exactly sure how to kick off our conversation for various reasons: a) I was tired and still getting my body acclimated to the new time zone; b) I was trying to be sensitive to French etiquette and customs, and I was not sure how to converse without accidently saying or asking something offensive; c) Even in my native land, I am very shy the first little bit I meet someone. Combine all three of those, and I was at a loss for words. However, we made our way to the train, and we made small talk as she pointed out important landmarks, and told me our tram stop.

Old town

On the tram, I marveled at the buildings we whizzed by. Grenoble is an old town, and the buildings have that old European, stucco style walls with orange tile roofs. The buildings are different colors – some of them pastel orange and yellow, others brown or shades of beige.  

Of all things in life, I know that I will never forget my first impression of my host home. It is a charming house built onto the side of another building. We go through an apartment hallway, complete with a spiral staircase, to an outdoor entrance. Go through the door, and enter into a charming courtyard which leads into the house. The house is old, and certainly has the charm and character of an old home. I am a sap for old buildings and especially homes; I could spend days marveling at the old homes, whether at home or in France. 

The next couple of days were spent getting unpacked and settling into my new home. My first full day in Grenoble, we were taken on a tour of the city. In the Place Notre Dame, there is a café which is especially for philosophers; however anyone is welcome, along with at least four other cafes. In another town square, there is a café which is the second oldest café in all of France, the oldest being in Paris! There really are cafés on every street, and just about every corner in France. I always thought that maybe the café was an overdone French cliché, much like berets, but no. I can safely conclude that there will never be a shortage of cafés in la France.

Goals

I have officially been in Grenoble for two weeks, and I honestly find something new or interesting every time I leave home. There are so many winding streets filled with shops and little restaurants throughout city. Prior to my study abroad departure, I made a list of goals, and one of those goals is to see something new every day. I can easily put a check next to that box. I recently discovered the most adorable salon de thé I could ever imagine –chandelier hanging, mismatched antique furniture which had been reupholstered in various fabrics of pretty prints, tablecloths, and white tables. I did not have the chance to stop by, but having tea in one of the salon de thés is certainly on my to do list. 

My introduction to Grenoble could not have been better. I cannot wait to explore more and get to know the city, not only through the eyes of a visitor, but as a member of this city. I want to have a relationship with Grenoble, not only to be a passerby. I know that Grenoble will leave a significant footprint on my heart and in my life, and I certainly intend on leaving a few of my own footprints for Grenoble.

Photo: Vickie Allen

Vickie Allen takes a break from the slopes of Alpe d’Huez and heads off walking in Bourg d’Oisans.

It may not have snowed since 11.01.11, but you’d never guess by looking at the pistes …

Alpe d’Huez has over 900 snow cannons, more than any other resort in France. And really it’s just as well, as so many of the pistes here are south-facing. So the fact that it’s not snowed for nearly a month doesn’t matter too much; the cannons are blasting water into the air each night, creating piles of new snow that’s being spread around the resort to keep the pistes topped-up. This technique is all well and good when the weather’s cold enough for the cannons, but if it starts warming-up at night we could be in trouble…

For the moment though, Alpe d’Huez boasts some of the best snow in France. Only the lowest, sunniest runs are closed (which includes the Sarenne) but new arrivals do get quite a shock when their first view of the resort is this:

Photo: Vickie Allen

The skiing may be good but I’m just not feeling it right now. With mid-season rapidly approaching I needed to get out of resort, so was far more enthusiastic than usual when The Boyfriend suggested a trip to the supermarket and a walk in Bourg d’Oisans.

Bourg is a hive of cycling activity in the summer months, but it’s a bit of a ghost town during the winter. Its location at the base of the steep-sided Oisans valley means it spends a chunk of the winter months either in the shadow of the mountains or under a blanket of cloud. Today however, it was sunny and toasty, with temperatures hitting 25ºC in the sun.

After a rather dull and chilly whiz round Casino we drove out to the fields that surround the town. There’s a lot of housing development going on in Bourg, but once you get past the Happy Valley projects you find fallow fields bisected by manmade mini canals.

Photo: Vickie Allen

Despite the warm weather, spring is yet to arrive in Bourg but there are a few signs that it’s not far away.

The trees remain bare but as the snows melt and the streams start to run once again, green life is appearing in the water. Weeds and water plants strongly rooted, reflect the sun’s warmth as they cling on against the flow that comes from the mountains. We heard the distant rumble of rock falls as the temperature change and melting snow loosens cracks on the mountainside.

Photo: Vickie Allen

Rustles in the dry leaves covering the mulch betrayed the field mice and squirrels out foraging, and we spotted a heron working its powerful way along one tree-lined canals, looking for prey. Squelching through the mud and remnants of frozen snow, protected by the shade of the trees, we made our way to the bank of the largest canal, Bourg’s protection from the heavy meltwater that gushes down into the valley at the end of each winter.

Photo: Vickie Allen

The level of the river is low at the moment and may stay that way unless we get a significant snowfall before the end of the season.

The forecasts remain hesitant to predict anything other than sun, so maybe we now need to accept that it simply won’t snow this much this winter: Mother Nature’s way of rebalancing after last year’s epic snowfall. Or maybe she’s playing her cards close to her chest and – as the older generation of local mountain folk believe – she’s going to test the mettle of the half-term tourists with a huge dump just in time for the first weekend of the holidays …

We’ll just have to wait and see.

Photo: Vickie Allen

Click on the links for more information about Bourg d’Oisans and riding this winter in Alpe d’Huez.

Destination Oisans: Photos, films and thoughts on the reality of life in the mountains.

photo: Vickie Allen

Vickie Allen reports on the snow – or lack of it – at Alpe d’Huez, and gives her tips for winter sports enthusiasts on how to predict the weather.

Sitting in our t-shirts looking across the green valley to the bare mountains behind, yesterday felt like April. In fact, last April the weather was far worse than it is now, with lots of snow falling late in the season.

Today as I look out of the window at the blue skies and the green trees it feels like Spring is already here. However, The Boyfriend has a different theory: winter hasn’t yet arrived.

photo: Vickie Allen

And he may be right. We’ve had a few big dumps of snow but nothing major and nothing really prolonged, which is what’s needed to provide a good strong base of snow. So maybe winter isn’t really here yet, maybe it’s on it’s way…

Our mountain weather is notoriously unpredictable and erratic. Last week we experienced all four seasons and after a week of sunshine the sort of temperatures we usually experience in May, the forecast is now predicting a week of clouds and snow.

photo: Vickie Allen

Just a few regular dustings really, around 10cm for the week, because the irony is that it’s going to be too cold to snow next week. The freeze level is due to drop from 3550m to 1850m today. By Thursday morning it will reach 0m and jiggle around up to 400m until Sunday.

photo: Vickie Allen

However, it’s not worth worrying about. Life here is lived determined by the weather and you have to be flexible to adapt to the whim of Mother Nature. This is one of the may reasons I love it, it stops me planning too far ahead! Forecasting here is supremely difficult and my interest in it has become purely theoretical. I’ve been closely watching the forecast for the past two years and love to watch the number but rarely do I base my life on them. They merely provide an idea of what may come to pass, but for life, I rely on these three methods for predicting the weather:

1: look to the south for storm clouds as this is where our weather originates
2: stick your head out of the window to test the temperatures and smell the air
3: layer-up no matter what the weather

photo: Vickie Allen

If you’re heading out on holiday soon then pack for all weathers, as you should no matter what time of year you visit the mountains. And if your trip is booked for later in the season then know that the weather might not be what you’re expecting, but you’ll have a great time anyway.

photo: Vickie Allen

PS: if you liked today’s photos, check out my Flickr page and entries into the Alpe Photo Contest.

Click on the link for more information about riding this winter in Alpe d’Huez or use the comments bow below to ask questions, I’d love to hear what you think!

Destination Oisans: Photos, films and thoughts on the reality of life in the mountains.

A still from Garage, 2007, directed by Lenny Abrahamson

Camille Bromley reports back from the Celtic Connection’s third annual Irish film event and tells us a bit more about activities planned by the association over the year.

At the end of November Grenoble’s Irish cultural association, Celtic Connection, held a film event at Cinema les Melies, showing two Irish films: the animated children’s film Brendan and the Secret of the Kells, and Garage, winner of the 2008 Irish Film awards as well as the CICAE Art and Essai Cinema Prize at the 2007 Cannes Film Festival.  

Asked about the choice of the film Garage, Celtic Connection explained, “We have shown films for three years now and wished to show the ‘maturity’ of Irish cinema with a provoking film about a social theme that was not too evident in the euphoria of the “Celtic tiger” era, and we seem to have been a bit prophetic in our choice.”

The film shows a lonely garage attendant’s tentative first steps towards friendship and human connection with a 15-year-old boy.  The story plays between comic and tragic, with a nuanced and delicate perfomance by Patt Short. Perhaps the most wonderful aspect of seeing the film on the big screen was the beautiful Irish country landscapes. The pace of the film being slow (like life in a rural town), it allows plenty of time to appreciate gorgeous shots of Irish countryside, which can only be described in the most typical way as green, lush, and foggy. The film was shot in Cloghan, County Offaly; Woodford, County Galway; and Rathcabbin, County Tipperary over a six week period in late summer 2006

This was the third annual Irish film event for Celtic Connection.  Previously they had shown Small Engine Repair with the Cinemathéque de Grenoble, and Once.  At every event Celtic Connection offers an apéritif beforehand and “a few drinks” afterwards in the Irish bars of Grenoble.

Don’t want to wait until November 2011 to see another Irish film? 

The Celtic Connection gives its recommendations:

For Adults: 

Breakfast on Pluto, 2006, Neil Jordan
The Wind that shakes the Barley, 2006, Ken Loach
Paveen Lackeen, 2005
Once, John Carney, 2007.
Bloody Sunday, Paul Grengrass, 2002
In America, Jim Sheridan
Omagh, Pete Travis, 2005
The Magdalene Sisters, Peter Mullan 

For Children:

Into the West, Mike Newell, 1992
The Ugly Duckling and Me, Michael Hegner and Karsten Kiilerich, 2007
The Secret of the Kells, Tomm Moore and Nora Twomey, 2009

 The Irish film institute website also has an archive of films

What else does Celtic Connection do?

A lot, as it turns out—Celtic Connection holds a variety of activities centered on Celtic identity throughout the year.  All the events are annual.

Upcoming is Christmas drinks at the Family pub on Friday December 17th.

Then they start off the new year with a restaurant meal for the ladies, in the tradition of Nollaig na Mna (Women’s Christmas). Traditionally, each year on January 6th men would take care of the housework for one day, offering women a chance to go out to relax with each other.

Later in January a night to celebrate the life and works of the national Bard Robert Burns: Celtic Connection’s Scottish contingent organized Burn’s night last January, complete with haggis, speeches, and music.

On March 17^th is, of course, St. Patrick’s Day.  Celtic Connection celebrates on a weekend around this date, organizing a meal at a farmhouse restaurant just outside Grenoble.  Last year, they say, “we had 70 people and a band and danced the evening away.”

On June 16th in Dublin and elsewhere is Bloomsday, to celebrate the life of Irish writer James Joyce and relive the events in his novel Ulysses, all of which took place on the same day in Dublin in 1904. Last year the Bookworm Café hosted a reading of Ulysses, with the enthusiastic David Simpson as a reader. On the agenda this year: Edwardian dress-up…? 

Around the 20th of June Celtic Connection holds their annual picnic in conjunction with the Irish association in Lyon, AFIL.  The picnic is held at a lake near Grenoble, and attendees sometimes reach 80 people, making for a great afternoon of fun, games and songs.

Celtic Connection isn’t about to miss a Halloween event on October 31st, seeing as the celebration of Halloween began in Ireland around 100AD.  There’s an event for the kiddies with traditional games, apples and fruit, and costumes, while the adults have mulled wine or the more traditional Irish coffee.  In 2010 the Halloween event was held at Café Mari and included a full Irish breakfast, which is “a brunch with sausages, rashers, eggs, black pudding, lashings of tea and brown bread” (being American, I have no idea what rashers or “lashings of tea” is supposed to indicate, so I leave this in quotations).

The Irish film showing, growing in popularity each year, takes place mid-November.

Finally, Celtic Connection winds up the calendar with Christmas drinks in an Irish bar.  It starts no later than happy hour and everyone brings food and music.  This is a social event and people are welcome to drift in and out all evening.  Celtic Connection does advise drinking in moderation, although they know that it won’t be a problem—at least on the Irish side—because “the French traditionally consume more alcohol than us!”

Don’t believe them?—According to the World Health Organization, Ireland’s per capita litre consumption increased from 7.0 in 1970 to 14.5 in 2001, and was 13.5 in 2004. This compares with 20.4 in France in 1970 down to 13.0 in 2004.  Ok, so the Irish do drink slightly more that the French . . . but it wasn’t always the case!

For more information:

Celtic Connection’s website

To be kept informed of Celtic Connection events sign up for the mailing list by emailing celtic.connection.grenoble@gmail.com

AFIL, Celtic Connection’s sister association in Lyon

The Irish Film Institute website

The 2011 official St. Patrick’s Day festival in Dublin

Burn’s Night

Dude, where's my car?

… or, don’t let the heavy stuff freeze … Vickie Allen of Destination Oisans shares some timely tips on unburying your car from the snow.

I’ve just cleared a whole heap of snow from my car. The snow storm that’s had me tucked away indoors for the past 24 hours deposited snow in Alpe d’Huez that swallowed my hand and forearm whole; a more scientifically-accurate depth of 43cm. (Thanks Mum for my new tape measure, must remember to keep it in my pocket …)

Of the many winter sports available in the Oisans region, none of the tourist bumpf includes snow clearing on it’s list of snowy sports. But it’s physically challenging, works up a sweat and is great for the soul. What better way to measure your achievement than taking a soft snowy lump (see photo above) and extracting the ice-encrusted car within?

Anyone who’s lived in the mountains will tell you that learning to love snow clearing is one of the best ways to cope with the long winter season. It’s an inevitability, and if you can embrace the idea then you can turn something painful and time consuming into something enjoyable. And surely that’s what we seek when we come to live in a climate that’s so inhospitable most of the local wildlife beds down and sleeps for half the year … and I’m not just talking about the marmottes!

Snow clearing is something best done while the snow is fresh. Leave it too long and it’ll freeze, solidifying and welding itself in thin layers to your car, path or anything else you happened to leave out in a snowstorm. And it’s not just the snow on top but the snow around. Those friendly snow plough drivers do their best to keep the roads clear but – in an effort not to scrape your car – they’ll happily block you in behind a thigh-high wall of solid snow. Tip: try not to park parallel to the curb in a snowy ski resort, it’s much easier to drive straight forwards or backwards out of a snowy space.

Over the past five years I’ve developed my snow clearing arsenal to a crack selection of efficient and necessary tools:

Essential – if unconventional – snow clearing equipment

Ortovox avalanche shovel: much more user-friendly than the typical metal snow shovel and packs down so can live in your car or your tiny resort hallway;
Bum board: essential for clearing the snow that’s actually fallen on your car without scratching the paintwork;
High boots and long trousers: believe me, when the snow’s up to your knees trainers or Timberland boots just won’t do;
Gloves: seems obvious but you’d be surprised how many people clear snow from their cars in their regular gloves. I keep an old ski pair on the back seat. I only use them for clearing the snow so it’s okay to get my hands filthy as I scrape the dirty, frozen scuzz from beneath the wheel arches and along the base of the car.

As I was clearing the snow, it occurred to me that there are so many things in life, events that we consider trials, that carry such negative connotations or feelings for us that we put them off indefinitely. And once we finally do face them head-on, how fantastic do we feel? Imagine how much more powerful and positive we’d be if we could just deal with these dreary or painful tasks as they came up, knowing that the longer we leave them, the worse they’ll become.

One winter I didn’t clear my car for about ten days. There was probably a metre of snow on top before I mustered the willpower to face the fact that no knight in shining armour was going to clear it for me. Neither would the freeze/thaw cycle of early spring do anything other than make the whole job much harder than it had to be. The whole task of clearing the car, which of course was completely necessary, was much more painful than it needed to be; partly because it was hard work but also partly because I spent the whole time beating myself up for leaving it so long.

Ah yes … that’s what my car looks like …

So I’m going to apply the ’snow clearing’ attitude to my procrastination list – which, of course, is separate to my ‘to do’ list. I’ve already been to the bank to open a savings account and taken photos of all the stuff I’ve been meaning to sell on e-Bay. What’s next on the list?

And how about you? What chore are you hoping someone else will do for you? What idea is ready to be realised but getting staler every day you put it off? What honest conversation do you need to have before the spring thaw arrives?

Get to work today and I promise you’ll feel a huge sense of achievement; just as I did when I finally unearthed the car.

Check out this teaser for the documentary ways2winter about life and snowsports in the local resort of Les 2 Alpes made by British filmmakers.

ways2winter is a feature-length documentary following two British seasonaires in the local resort of Les 2 Alpes through the winter season 09/10. It’s not your average snowsports film. Sure, there’s plenty of riding but there’s also hard work and strong personalities, showing the reality of seasonaire life.

The two subjects – Will & Heather – were chosen for their commitment to the resort, contrasting jobs and talent on the mountain. The film includes riding sections filmed in 2 Alpes’ celebrated Snow Park, the nearby freeride itineraries of Alpe d’Huez, St Christophe and La Grave, as well as the Derby de la Meije, the Sarenne Snow Bike event and the 2 Alpes Derby. But it’s not all riding. Video diaries and interviews bare Will and Heather’s souls as they overcome personal and work issues, struggling to find a balance between life on and off the mountain. It gets pretty intense at times, and their honesty gives viewers an insight into their feelings and contradictions.  

The film was made by Vickie Allen and Simon Parfitt, who have spent the past four years in Les 2 Alpes. Simon’s speciality is snowboarding and ski films, while Vickie comes from a background in journalism and short films, such as those at Destination Oisans. ways2winter is their first joint-project and their first documentary. Made without a budget, the filmmakers’ motivation was to create an authentic representation of winter seasons and promote the ski resorts of the Oisans region.

Slack lining in Parc Paul Mistral

In the second post of his blog ‘From Admission to Graduation’ MBA student Joseph Schott shares his experiences studying in Grenoble and tells us about slacklining.

Two months into the MBA program at Grenoble Graduate School of Business, and I already feel like I’ve accomplished a lot. Traversed a long, dark tunnel of French bureaucracy? Check. Met classmates from all around the globe? Check. I’ve even finished a few modules. Now its time to settle in and enjoy all that the city has to offer. So far, the relaxed vibe and multicultural atmosphere has been just what I was looking for. There are so many universities and innovative firms located in Grenoble that I keep running into interesting people all the time. I still have a long list of new places to see, but today I want to write about something new I found a few weeks back.

Walking through Parc Mistral, I noticed a man floating in the air between two trees. I took a quick look around. The trees were swaying gently in the wind and the sky was clear. There were families picnicking on the grass. I checked again, and sure enough he was now walking, carefully suspended about one half meter above the ground. Someone was beating out a rhythm with drums near La tour Perret. Beneath him, I could just barely make out the shimmer of something stretched between the two trees: my first look at a slackline.

In slacklining, you try to find your balance and walk back and forth on a band of flexible material that can vary in length, width, and elasticity. The material is very thin, which is why I couldn’t see it very well from the side, and the elastic fabric stretches with each step, making it very different from tight-rope walking.

Slacklines can be connected to any two anchor points, like trees in a park. Since the line is so close to the ground, when you lose your balance you just step back on the grass. If you go up in the mountains and anchor the line between two sides of a crag, it is called highlining. In this case, you’ll need to wear a climbing harness and attach a safety cord that travels with you around the line. Go up even higher to where the air starts getting thin, and you have something people call skylining.

A slackline

For me, it was satisfying enough just managing to walk back and forth between two trees. The flexibility in the line causes it to wobble back and forth beneath you, and it must have taken me two hours to just barely stumble to the other side. It’s all about balance. Making it through requires a kind of Zen concentration to clear your mind and focus only on your body and the line.

A beginner mistake is to stare at your feet, but since your feet are moving around with the line, this makes it hard for your brain to know where the ground is in relation to your body. It’s much better to stare straight ahead at something that doesn’t move and raise your arms for balance. You need to keep good posture, with your hips forward. As people get better, they start to add tricks. Jumping around on the line, sitting down and standing back up, doing splits, yoga, whatever you can think of. What used to be known as “what rock climbers do when they’re bored” has really come into its own.

My MBA program is moving fast, and I’m meeting people, learning a lot, and getting ready for my next career move. Our course on international negotiation in particular is extremely hands on and engrossing. Some days though, when I’ve done too much accounting and just need to clear the numbers out of my head, a Saturday afternoon slacklining is a great way to do it. Best of all, the slackliners I’ve met around Grenoble are always welcoming of new people who stroll by and want to see what is going on. This communal atmosphere makes it a great way to meet new people and get connected to an interesting international crowd.

For some more information, you can check out the wiki here and two great videos, here and here.

Present perfect verbs. Photo: jeffmcneill

Many of our readers and contributors teach English in the city. This anonymous post by one such Grenoble Lifer asks for your experience and opinions about the different employers of language teachers in the region.

by A. Teeshur

There comes a point in every English teacher’s life when, as much fun as the job is, the employer just doesn’t seem to keep up. Maybe we want more chances to move up, more opportunities to work more hours (and thus get more money!), or just work fewer hours at a better rate.

Changing jobs can be scary—leaving one company for another sometimes feels a little like a trip to the casino. Roll the job-seeker dice, land an interview, snag that job, and you may get lucky or you may not.

Some of us have played the English-teaching game here in Grenoble longer than others. I thought it could help fellow teachers to put luck on their side if we shared our experiences, letting others know what companies are worth our hard work and which ones need to realise just how much their teachers are worth.

I propose that the Grenoble Life community build up a sort of English School Review Board. If you have had experience teaching somewhere, tell us about it. Do it anonymously, and I would suggest leaving out any details that could make your post identifiable, like precise employment dates.

Here’s an idea of how to post your review, but feel free to add or leave out any info as you see fit.

COMPANY:

ROUNDED HOURLY WAGE:

TYPE OF CONTRACT (CDI, CDD, vacataire, etc.):

HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOUR EXPERIENCE HERE?

REASON FOR LEAVING:

ANYTHING IMPORTANT A POTENTIAL TEACHER SHOULD KNOW?

WOULD YOU RECOMMEND THIS SCHOOL TO A TEACHER LOOKING FOR A JOB?

Also remember, that just like restaurant reviews, each posting recounts the experience of a single person. Some famous guy (I forget who…) said that your appreciation of an experience comes 10% from the situation itself and 90% from your attitude about the situation! Now, if a particular school turns up with nothing but bad reviews, well, you’ve been warned!

Where to go? Christa Gimblett points us in the right direction

Grenoble Life ski reporter Christa Gimblett gives the lowdown on budget skiing options in good time for the upcoming season.

If you’ve moved to Grenoble, chances are you’ve done so for the unparalleled skiing opportunities. Come on, admit it. You don’t have to pretend to me. And unless you won the lottery recently, you’re probably making sacrifices for the sake of the white stuff.

Brits tend to think of winter sports as being the preserve of wealthy middle-class Tarquins spending Daddy’s money (and if you only ski the Tarentaise you’d be forgiven for believing it). I’m not about to claim that you can ski on a shoestring, but there are ways of maximizing quality mountain time without breaking the bank.

Understand resort pricing

A day pass bought from the ticket window is sold at the equivalent of what hotels call rack rate. It’s the full top whack price used to calculate all the resort’s discounts. Don’t pay it if you don’t have to. Discounts are routinely available for all kinds of reasons, including (but not limited to) being young/old/a student/disabled/a big family; buying on the web; buying multiple days at once; bringing a huge group … you get the picture. Do your research – even the smallest resort has a website with pricing policies listed for all to see.

Bring your documents with you!

You’d be amazed how many people don’t do this and still expect to get a cheap ticket. You might well be old/young/a student etc etc, but no-one is going to take your word for it. Resorts suffer increasing levels of fraud, and their staff are suspicious and cynical. If you can’t produce your valid student ID, disability certificate, whatever, then you’re going to be out of luck.

Buy online in advance

You know you’re going skiing a week on Sunday. Why waste valuable hill time lining up at the ticket window with the hoi polloi? Most resorts sell online and will post your pass to you. They also offer discounted web-only rates – last season you could ski 2Alpes on a Saturday for over 10€ less than window price just because you bought the pass in the comfort of your own home. Bargain!

Join a club

Student members of the university’s Ecole de Glisse ski at 2Alpes for under 15€ when everyone else is paying nearly 40€. Check out local clubs and see what they offer. As well as financial advantage, you’ll find skiing friends who know the local resorts.

Surf the web

Sites like www.vente-privee.com sometimes offer reduced ski passes; Transisere do a bus-ticket-plus-lift-pass deal, which means cheap skiing with the bonus of being able to have a snooze on the way home; the Pass Cinésnowcard costs 10€ and offers some whopping ski discounts. An evening’s Googling can pay dividends in bargain ski time.

Get a season ticket

If you do enough skiing, a season pass can offer a huge reduction on the full day rate, but you need to do the sums carefully because they’re expensive in the first place. Check what discounts are available on the season ticket – for buying early, or owning an apartment in resort, for example. Consider how many days you’re likely to ski, then work out how much the pass will cost you per day’s skiing, and bear in mind any other discount you’re entitled to. If you’re disabled, for example, you can claim a big reduction on a day pass, so a season ticket has to work that bit harder to be worthwhile.

The other big advantage of a season pass is that you stick to one resort and get to know it well. After a few weekends you’ll begin to know where to find powder stashes a week after the last snowfall, which pistes are boiler plate ice in the mornings, where the decent snow is when everything else has turned to porridge on an April afternoon … etc. This won’t save you any money per se, but it means you will wring the maximum value out of your pass in terms of quality slide time.

Choose when you ski

Hotels and holiday apartments change over on a Saturday. This means that on Saturday mornings everyone is packing, cleaning, stressing about where the car keys are and trying to make the kids go for a wee before they get in the car. Most pertinently, they are not on the slopes. Get yourself out of bed early on a Saturday morning to hit first lifts, and you’ll have the place to yourself until lunchtime even in the big resorts in February. Again, this may not save you money (though there are web discounts for Saturday precisely because it’s quiet) but you certainly get the best value for your cash.

Don’t follow the herd …..

I know the British think Val d’Isere is the only resort worth talking about, but I’m here to tell you that they are dead wrong. I suppose you could get up at five in the morning to drive the necessary 170km, then pay 50€ to queue for half an hour and then find that the resort’s seasonnaires have tracked all the powder, but why would you? Particularly when, as a Grenoblois, you practically trip over a ski area every time you leave the house. The city is ringed by small to medium sized resorts where 40 minutes drive gets you a day out at half the price of the usines de ski and you can have steak frites and a beer on the mountain without taking out a mortgage. This is where your French friends and colleagues are going every weekend. And what’s more, these resorts are not infested with seasonnaires who think they’re off-piste gods, which seriously ups your chances of getting fresh tracks even if the last snowfall was on Wednesday morning when you were stuck in that meeting. Check out www.skifrance.fr – you’re spolit for choice.

And finally, my apologies …

…. to all of you who snowboard. I know you do. I do it as well. It’s just cumbersome to say ‘ski and/or board’ all the time. Sorry.

————————————————————————————————————————————————-

Christa Gimblett left the UK for a seasonal job in Europe in the recession of the early 90s and forgot to go home again, spending nearly 15 years working for UK tour operators up various mountains. Now living in Bourg d’Oisans with no cash, two cats, a man with a broken foot and a car which looks like a frog.

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For all your administrative nightmares: Binders. Photo: nick findley

Grenoble Life editor James Dalrymple had to do a Validation des Acquis Professionnels et Personnels (VAPP) and survived to tell the tale. Here’s what happened and why.

Master your subject

For those wanting to one day take the competitive teaching exams or concours de l’enseignement (CAPES, Agrégation) to become a teacher for the French state system, you may be aware that things have changed. The government have scrapped the institutes (IUFMs) that provided teachers with practical training after these exams to gear them up for life in a classroom. Instead, it is now an obligation to have a Master’s degree in your chosen field before taking the concours, the second year of which orientates wanabee profs in two directions: a master’s in pedagogy (for those teachers taking the CAPES) and a master’s in research (for those wishing to take the agrég).

Setting aside the questionable French wisdom of abandoning practical teacher training for more theory – and thus a greater insistence on what you know as opposed to can you teach? – the shake-up has a number of consequences for anglophones intending to run the gauntlet. Firstly, you will require a master’s degree or equivalent in order to take the exams; secondly, the requirements for entering into these master’s programmes have become much stricter.

Getting a head start

When I arrived in Grenoble I knew several anglophones who had been able to enter directly into the second year of the Etudes Anglophones master’s programme given that they had a Bachelor’s degree in their native country and were seen as having an advantage over French students who had studied English literature to degree level in France. Therefore such people were able to obtain a master’s level (aka, Bac + 5) having completed what amounted to one term of classes evaluated via graded written work and oral presentations, and a dissertation on the research subject of their choice. One of my friends even wrote an article here about it. However, upon applying myself, I was told that a Bachelor’s was not sufficient to enter into Master 2, and my claims to know people who had done this were met with indifference. Something had changed, but no-one would explain what and why, nor was there information online to this explicit effect.

Formalising experience

At 32 years old with a job and a family, I was not able to commit to the full two years of the programme, especially frustrating since I knew people who had – with the same BA-level qualifications – gone directly into Master 2 with minimum fuss. There are two potential administrative procedures for people in my position: a Validation des Etudes and a Validation des Acquis Professionnels et Personnels (VAPP). As I hadn’t done enough additional post-degree study according to the new rules to claim the equivalence of the first year of the master’s, I failed in my efforts to pursue the former (lighter) route. Given I have worked (first in publishing and then in teaching) for around ten years, I had to opt for the VAPP. This also applies if you are over 28 or have interrupted your studies for more than three years (check for me on both counts!).

As far as I know, the VAPP doesn’t exist in anglophone countries but is a necessity in France where qualifications weigh so much more than work experience. It is not enough just to submit a CV. In France your experience has to be formally recognised by a commission and involves the supply of copious justificatifs (i.e. proof), explantory detail of all your acquired skills and knowledge and certified translations of your diplomas and certificates. In effect, the VAPP dossier becomes less of an application than a lengthy project that must be printed and bound six times.

Luckily for me I have a patient wife who was brought up in the French education system and has a black belt in admin. Without the help of such a person, you might as well forget about doing the VAPP. It is not just a question of being able to write French perfectly, but of knowing the specific terminology adopted within France’s idiosyncratic employment culture to explain one’s skills and knowledge. This requires hours of research in itself.  

Beware sworn translators

Worst of all, we had a dispute with a sworn translator, unbelievably British in origin herself, over grade equivalences. If you have a 2:1 Honours degree from a British university, this is the second highest mark you can receive after a First. Thus you would expect this to be translated as Mention Bien, the second highest level in France. Our translator, however, on whom we depended to certify the document as well as translate it, wanted to put Mention Assez Bien, effectively demoting my grade by one level. On this issue she would not budge despite our protestations. In the end we had to settle for her leaving the grade in English, and translating the rest, and hoping that the commission presiding over my dossier could understand the value of a 2:1.

Jumping through hoops

My dossier has been approved, but I can’t shake off the feeling that this was just a hoop thrown up for me to jump through – that the detail of my application was less important than my having tackled the time-consuming obstacle thrown in my path. I imagine that, in undertaking such an arduous task, I have proved to the commission who approve the VAPP that I am genuinely motivated. Wouldn’t a simple interview have sufficed ?

Feel free to use the comments box below to share similar experiences and advice or your own administrative nightmares.

Anyone remember this? Photo: litherland

In August Grenoble Life editor James Dalrymple found himself with time to burn and decided to enrol in French classes at the CUEF. Here’s what he has to say.

Between finishing my job as a teacher in a private institute and beginning life in l’éducation nationale , I found myself the grateful recipient of more than one year’s untaken annual holiday. To get a taste of university life ahead of my new job on campus, and avoid spending all day in my dressing gown, I enrolled in a semi-intensive French class called Passerelle pour l’université française at the CUEF, one of the many rather inelegant departmental acronyms found there.

Centre Universitaire d’Etudes Françaises (CUEF) is part of Stendhal University and offers a variety of courses of different durations and tailored to different levels. According to the website the Passerelle “s’adresse aux étudiants désireux de s’inscrire dans une université française,“ which might lead you to the conclusion that it is less a language class than a series of lectures. In fact it is a fairly varied and pleasant FLE-style course comprising four hours of class time a day for two weeks, focused on improving a facility for formal expression and speaking.

Working on a rich range of materials including articles, video and audio reports, the course enables a broadening of vocab and a tightening of written style that suited me just fine. Longer summer courses exist, but the timing of the Passerelle was better for me. I should also add that this was not a class that prioritised free oral expression, although we had opportunity to debate the themes which arose in the materials (such as: the history of social housing in France, the future of urbanisation, surrogate motherhood).

The course was also a reminder of some of French education’s more idiosyncratic aspects: the insistence on summarizing and reducing articles from the press to their bare essentials, long after students had shown an understanding of the text. Agree with the efficacy of such an activity or not, it is a common exercise in French classrooms and worth familiarising yourself with if you are planning to study here. Personally, as someone who had learnt most of their shaky French à l’orale, I made masses of progress in terms of written structure, vocab and grammar.

The two weeks included access to a multimedia lab which was essentially just a computer room manned by a teacher-technician who could sometimes advise on specific online exercises to meet your needs. Furthermore, the fee included a guided visit to Musée Dauphinois which currently hosts an interesting temporary exhibition on Grenoble-born luminary Jacques de Vaucanson (1709–1782), one of the fathers of early robots: mechanical automatons that owed their design to greater understanding of the human anatomy.

Normally the course is aimed at B1 and B2 students, but I was pleasantly surprised to be told that I was pushing completion of C1 by the end of the course (and I was given a handy certificate to this effect; always useful in France), so there was a bit of a spread of levels in the group. This didn’t seem to matter too much, though, and it was great to be in one of those multi-national (albeit predominantly German) learning contexts where the common language is the one being studied.

If you have had good or bad experiences at the CUEF, please share them with us below. For further information on the CUEF and other French language courses in Grenoble, check this out.

Grenoble ... 'a rich intercultural nature'. Copyright Agence Prisme / Pierre Jayet

Mary Zaccai, international press officer at Grenoble Ecole de Management, hits back at the negative and sensationalist media coverage of recent events in Grenoble.

I have this frustrating feeling that all the hard work I am putting in each day promoting Grenoble Ecole de Management (Grenoble Graduate School of Business) and by extension Grenoble itself is being severely put into question by all the negative media frenzy about the city.

Listening to and reading international press, it is as if Grenoble is one of the most dangerous cities in the world, hit by crime and drugs … are we talking about the same place?? Am I living in such conditions? Certainly not.

Just by running a google news search on Grenoble, I noticed that usual news about mountaineering, football etc. has been dramatically replaced by news about the speech president Nicolas Sarkozy delivered in Grenoble, days after one neighbourhood of the city was hit by riots. The riots began when 27-year-old Karim Boudouda robbed a nearby casino and fled to his neighbourhood, Villeneuve. When cornered by the police, he opened fire and the police shot him dead. The riots were limited to a small area, but the media frenzy made it as is the entire of Grenoble has become a war zone. As for the speech, as the Financial Times mentions: “Never before has a French head of state made such an explicit link between immigration and crime.” And he decided to do so in beautiful Grenoble, forever linking the city to shocking suggestions such as citizenship-stripping proposals to deal with immigration.

The irony of all this is that the attraction of Grenoble lies primarily in its rich intercultural nature. The school is a prime example with 96 different nationalities from all quarters of the world. Walking through the streets, our students are always struck by the many different languages they hear, delicious smells from the American cookie shop or the Arabic cake stands, the sushi bars, the Italian quarter … a melting-pot with all the advantages that this has to offer. Not to mention: its history, beautiful sites, booming economy largely based on international connections, and vast student population that brings this vibrant feel to the city.

Grenoble, the city I was born to, the city I came back to after living in the UK for seven years, the city I promote - is for me a safe haven, a thriving and dynamic city, enriched by a multitude of cultures. A place to meet the world.

Joseph Schott anticipating life in Grenoble

Joseph Schott has come from the USA, via Japan, to do an MBA at the Grenoble Graduate School of Business. We will be following him ‘From Admission to Graduation’ as he blogs on life and learning in the Capital of the Alps.

Hello, my name is Joseph Schott. I’ll be starting at the Grenoble Graduate School of Business as an MBA student in September. I’m originally from the United States, but I spent the last four years in Japan with the JET Programme. While I was there, I taught English as a foreign language, did some translation and interpretation, and led a small non-profit that performs some support functions for the JET Programme.

While the cities in Japan are beautiful and convenient, the whole country is also full of mountains. It is a great place to be if you like hiking or rock climbing. It was hard to leave! I originally studied social sciences in the US, but working in Japan with people from around the world made me want to get more involved in international business. So after considering the great location of GGSB, (and drooling over pictures of French cheese) I put my interests together and applied at Grenoble.

I’ve been asked to write about my hopes and fears, as well as what I’m doing to prepare for my new life in Grenoble. I’ll start with the juicy bit and go right into my fears. It goes without saying that moving to a new country is a very complicated process, and a lot of the time I’m just glancing at my calendar, hoping that nothing goes wrong. However, my biggest worry about coming to Grenoble is the language. I only just started studying French a few weeks ago, and I’m an absolute beginner.

I’ve been told that Grenoble has a very large and vibrant international community, and from what I’ve seen on this blog, the range of people you can meet is one of the city’s highlights. At the same time, I’m not under any illusion that I’ll be having an easy time without speaking any French! In Japan, I was usually the one helping other people navigate bureaucracy and solve communication problems, but in Grenoble I’ll be back to being a beginner. On the other hand, I’m excited to pick up a third language to use in business and for making new friends. And for that I’m going to need to speak a lot more French!

I’ve found lots of French language resources and language tapes, and I’ve been carrying my beloved Anki around with me everywhere. If you’ve never heard of Anki or other similar tools (they are usually called spaced repetition systems or SRS), I’d definitely recommend checking one out. The idea is that you can store huge amounts of small facts as virtual flashcards, and the program will take care of scheduling which cards you review. So for example, you might eventually have 3,000 vocabulary words, and Anki will bring up about 100 each day. It can make sure that difficult phrases and words are brought back frequently, and things that you’ve already memorized are brought up sparingly. It works from my mobile, and I use it while I’m on the train, waiting in a line, or when a conversation is waning. Best of all it’s open source.

I’ve also been brushing up on my math and finance, and reading some books to get ready to go back to school. I’m currently reading a book on job hunting and just finished an interesting book on Google’s business model and path to success. I’ve also subscribed to a few rss feeds from business blogs. I’ve seen some interesting articles on www.voxeu.org, www.deadlysins.info/wordpress, blogs.hbr.org, as well as many others. Reading these keeps me excited for the intensive studying that will start in September. I also watch many of the presentations from the TED Conference, which are very short, but center on global issues and very inspiring.

However, wrapping up my life in Japan and saying farewell to everyone I’ve met has been the most difficult part of my preparation for Grenoble. Changing location so often, especially between countries, gives you a chance to meet lots of interesting people, and with social networking services like facebook, mixi, and so on, it is easier than ever to stay connected. At the same time though, these applications can make it easy to give yourself the illusion of being connected and ignore the real value of the relationships you’ve made. Before moving my focus to Grenoble, one of my biggest tasks has been to properly say goodbye to all of the amazing people I met in Japan.

As I finish these preparations and the start of classes draws closer and closer, I find myself feeling more and more excited each day. I can’t wait to meet the other members of my class and get started on my new life. I’m also looking forward to checking out the climbing gym near the school, relaxing at one of the cafés around the city, and trying out the hiking in the three surrounding mountain ranges.

I first got involved in climbing in Japan, where it is just starting to really become popular. Actually, people there use some French terms as loan words too, such as gaston (ガストン). I did mostly bouldering, so I’m excited to learn more about top-roping and outside routes, which I’ve heard are more popular in France. The nearby mountains look they’ll be great for hiking, and maybe I can even spot a Dahu!

Essential Questions. Photo: banlon1964

Grenoble Life editor James Dalrymple shares five pearls of wisdom gleaned from teaching English to professionals in the city.

This month presents a watershed moment for me professionally as I end my stint as a teacher-trainer – of mostly professional adults – at a private institute and prepare for my first taste of l’éducation nationale française. Having obtained a post on campus as a lecteur, I will complete the job that has defined my experience in France since my arrival, and take a step into the unknown.

Some might say that the move from formateur to lecteur will be a case of “out of the frying pan and into the fire,” but, as a cathartic act of drawing a line under my experience, I have compiled a list of five pearls of sagesse concerning teaching professional English in France.

1. Everybody speaks English now, right?

Wrong. Even if English has gone global, there will be times when you are confronted with students who have apparently never spoken it before, let alone knowingly seen or heard it. Even in cosmopolitan Grenoble, expect to have to teach some adults who are closer to vrais than faux debutants.

Why should everyone speak English? I have had the unenviable task of trying to teach people who had neither significant professional need to speak the language, nor a lifelong burning passion to begin doing so. At one time I had to manage a contract with a medium-size manufacturer, at which all the shop floor operators were obliged to have English training. For many of these mostly middle aged men (and some women) from the shop floor, whose modest education was a distant memory, the effort spent in learning English vastly outweighed the reward.

No doubt these same men could acquire certain technical skills faster than I ever could, yet English remained alien and abstract despite many hours in contact with it. During my time with these people, I am ashamed to admit that I may have learnt more from them (about industry, about how things are made) than they learnt from me.

Most English teachers in the private sector will probably relate to my feeling that many student-trainees have been permanently damaged by a school approach to language learning that was, for many, didactic and dogmatic rather than communicative or intuitive. It is often difficult to get the French to let go of the idea of grammar as language’s evil twin, and that speaking a language is akin to navigating a minefield of punishable mistakes.

2. « On est nuls en Anglais en France »

Despite what I said in observation one, many French people speak excellent English. Countless times I have met students who, upon eloquently introducing themselves, feel the need to add the little disclaimer that their English is terrible and how embarrassed they are to speak it. Normally I point of out the window at this moment and ask them which country they live in, where they grew up, and why on earth they are not prouder to be able to express themselves in another language, even if only a little.

Maybe it says something about the French attitude to their own language that they would prefer not to speak another if they can’t speak it beautifully. Compared to Britain though, where learning foreign languages has been in serious decline since a law was passed making it no longer mandatory after the age of 14, the French are a nation of linguists.

3. Time = results

Not necessarily. Interest and enthusiasm for the language and the culture remain paramount. Too many people are sent for English training as if sent to learn any other professional skill. I have often been confronted by a belief that time spent in the classroom will automatically be rewarded with improved TOEIC scores, for example. Professional need is no substitute for passion for the subject, and the fact that many adults in France come to training out of obligation rather than choice engenders a passive attitude to learning which is often an obstacle to meaningful progress.

4. I want to speak Business English

Unfortunately for teachers, human resources and training managers – not all known for their broad knowledge of language pedagogy – often insist upon certain thématiques for the ESL classroom. In my opinion there is too much interference from companies who want to impose skills-based English upon their employees. However, you can’t run before you can walk, and it is very frustrating being told to teach students how to participate in a meeting in English, or speak on the telephone, for example, without having mastered the basics.

5. Grenoble needs an International House

Grenoble has an enormous market for English teaching, but no focal point to promote excellence or provide training for its teachers. For us long-term formateurs, we need to do more to share our ideas and improve standards. Hard-working teachers also need to feel that their efforts be rewarded with the possibility of professional development, whereas often the door to such progress seems permanently closed. As far as I know there is currently nowhere to do the CELTA in Grenoble – an internationally recognised English teaching certificate that does not hold nearly as much weight as it should in France – although Marianne Reynaud organises TESOL-affiliated seminars.

Given the size of the English teaching sector in Grenoble, there should be an innovative and internationally-accredited institute like International House where teachers can be trained and learn to train others. Such an institute could act as a catalyst for improving standards and, by bringing teachers together, raising the morale and pride among the ESL workforce.

Free toilets in France tend to serve only 50% of the population

Finding public conveniences in France not up to much? Grenoble Life’s resident Australian Shonah Kennedy reports from the front line.

Having arrived at Paris Gare de Lyon an hour prior to the TGV leaving, I decided to try out Le Train Blue café express.  This forced lunch time also coincided with a call of nature. Perfect – delicious lunch in an iconic café (well, the express part) and the thought of clean facilities to use – free of charge too – or so I thought. I was assuming a little too much.  After going down the steps, I was greeted with a barrier that asked me for 20 centimes. I thought this must not apply to sit-down diners, so I asked my friendly waitress and her answer was confusing to me. Having thought I misunderstood, I repeated my question in a different way, but I received the same answer. I took my 20 centimes, placed it in the slot and was allowed entry into the exclusive world of European facilities – or lack thereof.

I have a social problem when it comes to needing the bathroom in France. And, may I just point out here that I have lived in different countries in Europe and seemingly this is a Europe-wide problem. However, now that I am living in France, this is the country I am picking on – I drink a lot of water.

Prior to leaving the house every morning I drink one litre of water and my ritual café au lait! My difficulties begin about half an hour after I lock the door and leave my clean, reliable facilities far behind. Perhaps it is all psychological as I don’t see others with that grimaced expression on their faces looking beseechingly up and down every street in search of the elusive cubicle. BUT, here we can remove almost 50% of the population as there ARE public urinals (as unhygienic as they look) scattered around Grenoble for those more vertical in their activities. THEN, to add some sort of insult to the matter, I have also seen a number of doggy toileting areas. 

What about the female of the species? Why is it we must pay for the privilege of hovering above a bowl? AND, may I interject here and say even though we do pay (and up to 70 centimes in some places – I get desperate) it does not guarantee the cleanliness of the area or the provision of paper.

So … in my quest of need I have found some amenities – and at times free – I would like to share with you.

You can of course boldly go where many people have gone before and risk the cafés/brasseries. This can be done by walking in as if you own the place – or are at least dining there. This plan is often foiled when you get that lost look on your face and it is evident to all that your only intention is using the bathroom* and you aren’t dining there, had no intention of dining there and probably never will. Or you could be completely honest and ever so sweetly ask “Puis-je utiliser vos toilettes s’il vous plaît?” Be prepared for holding on just a little longer, however.

Then there are the chain restaurants/coffee houses. The only reason I ever walk into these places is on the off chance the big burly guard is not standing against the wall asking to see your receipt, so that you have the exclusive right to use their second rate facilities. Normally you can see if he/she is on duty before you get so far into your mission you have to explain yourself to the self appointed toilet* bouncer.

There are a number of so-called self-cleaning toilet cubicles found around Grenoble. They do cost – normally 20 centimes (that you need the exact change for) – and from experience I have only used one that looked like it had been doing its job properly (on the North East corner of Place Du Dr L. Martin). Sadly the others I have tried: next to the merry-go-round in front of FNAC; behind the market at St Claire Les Halles; and at Leader Price in Seyssinet, should be relieved of their self-cleaning duties due to a job not well done.

Then, there is my find of the year – The Bibliothèque Municipale de Grenoble. On the first floor, on the left hand side there is a toilet. It is guard free, does not require any donation and normally there is paper! However, do take hand sanitiser as the soap is usually missing. But, it is a toilet. It is in the centre of town and it is relatively clean.

I hope there are others out there who share my European social inadequacy and can help with any alternative treasures they have found when nature calls.

*Australian English = toilet; American English = Bathroom (When visiting America I received some vulgar looks after asking where the toilet was!)

Montessori school shelves with toys. Photo: 3neus

In a three-part blog Camille Bromley describes a day in the life of a teacher at the Montessori International School of Grenoble. Read part I.

7:38 am

Bus stop, Place Verdun.  As the number 31 bus to Meylan: Maupertius approaches I’m hastily devouring the remaining third of my Big Chocolate, freshly purchased for 1 euro from Sandwich House located behind the Maison de Tourisme tram stop, outgoing side. Ordinarily the Big Chocolates from this Sandwich House are not especially good pain au chocolat, but they’re easily the size of two regular pain au chocolat, a good bargain at 1 euro (the American in me is always a sucker for bargains), and in the morning when they’re warm they’re still pretty darn tasty.

The Big Chocolate is the ritual first step in my once-weekly workday as an English teacher at Montessori International Primary School in Meylan, as this is the only day in the week I exit the house early enough to catch one while still warm. The other days of the week I work as an English assistant in public primary schools.

Teaching at Montessori International School is not like teaching in French public school.  It’s vastly different, in fact.  If you’re not familiar with what’s called the Montessori Method, I’ll briefly explain: The Montessori Method of children’s education was originally developed in the early 20th century by an Italian educator named Maria Montessori. It’s an alternative approach to schooling, encouraging a child’s individual self-directed learning using the support of materials and teacher observation. 

From what I understand, while many schools worldwide function under the heading of Montessori School there are no defined guidelines for the specific practical application of this education system. However, the general idea is that children learn best when they follow their natural instincts and interests. In other words, it’s self-study for kids; less academically-put, the kids do what they feel like.

This “do-what-you-feel-like” philosophy is most decidedly not the norm in French public schools, from what I’ve seen in my year’s experience there, the essential part of a teacher’s oral utterances consisting of phrases such as, non, tu n’as pas le droit!; vous levez la doigt pour avoir la parole!; TAISEZ-VOUS! [yelled shockingly loud]; vous êtes insupportables aujourd’hui! [tone of resignation and accompanying sigh]; and finally the much-loved Bravo!, with exaggerated sarcasm. Thus, Montessori International reputedly offers an alternative to parents who prefer their kids to receive more positive encouragement than negative during the first 6–9 years of their educational development.

However, I haven’t given an entirely clear picture of the Montessori International School in Meylan. This school is foremost an international school, with instruction provided in French and English. I am the English-instruction teacher (on Mondays anyways), and a woman with a confounding last name, Martine Grzelak, functions as school director and French-instruction teacher. 

We take care of the primary-age children, age 6–12. The children in this group, about 25 of them, are mostly Francophone, with a solid group of Anglophones and couple French-English bilingual kids. There is another, separate class of students at the school, the pre-school age group (ages 3–6), also Francophone or Anglophone or both, headed by Emilie Ballivy. The pre-schoolers are called Les petits castors, which gives an accurate impression of their work ethic and focused accomplishment under the guidance of Ms. Ballivy.

The school makes use of an impressive collection of Montessori materials and supplies, and the curriculum is organized around the French National Education program, so that children are expected to cover a similar material to public school students. More on the Montessori Method as the day progresses.

Part II

Part III

Part III

12:00 pm

Lunchtime. The microwave cart is wheeled in, desks are cleared, chairs fetched. The students eat in the classroom. The children are expected to be settled quietly in their chairs, ask to go wash their hands, and then ask to get their lunchboxes before they are allowed to eat. Meanwhile, the child in charge of setting the table this week goes to get the silverware and dishes.   

12:30 pm

Everyone is finally sitting and has more or less the complete tableware set in front of them: plate, fork, knife, little yogurt spoon, and plastic cup (Martine’s cabinet has slowly but surely been rid of all the glassware glasses, not intentionally).

The table setting procedure always takes much longer than is logically necessary, probably because the child assigned to set the table is for some reason 90% of the time the same small boy, who due to his diminutive size and severely ADD nature seems the absolute worst person in the room to give the task of distributing various separate pieces of cutlery to students sitting in disorganized clumps around the big room, not to mention that when you see him trying to lug the heavy glass water pitchers around to each table you get the sinking sense of futility of watching someone trying very hard to complete a Sisyphean task. Half the pitcher will have been emptied on the floor by the time he gets to the table, and he’ll be sent to get more in five minutes.

I send the children in groups of two or three to the cloakroom to get their lunchboxes. I imagine that you can tell a lot about the home life of individual children from their lunchboxes. A lot of the older children seem to have the freedom to creatively fashion their own concept of a meal; there’s a group of three girls (who aggressively defy the assertion that social cliques don’t exist in small schools) that bring their lunches in family-style portions to share with each other: a bag of Lay’s potato chips, a Tupperware box of pasta and sauce, an entire sleeve of Speculoos cookies.

The Anglophone children belong to a different breed of household, one that clearly holds in contempt the irresponsible consumption of low nutrient-to-calorie ratio foods and environmentally unfriendly packaging. S—, a six-year-old with extraordinary feminine style (how a child of that age is able to exude such class is beyond me), declares matter-of-factly that she hates ice cream and cake. Her treat of choice is the green pressed seaweed paper that sushi rolls come wrapped in — in French it’s translated as algae, which expresses better, I think, the total bizarreness of a six-year-old reveling in the taste of a seaweed wrap (imagine an apple cheeked little girl saying with a charming missing-front-tooth smile, “My favorite food is algae”).  

1:15 pm

The kids are fairly hopping to get outside after a full morning of being together in one room. They go into the cloakroom to remove their slippers and put on their outside shoes, most of which resemble work boots or what English people call “wellies” rather than the slick bright white Pumas or the metallically shiny girl-sized heels (!) public school children wear. This is because the playground provided for amusement and the venting of various child frustrations during the lunch recess is not actually a playground, it’s an empty field behind the Montessori school building accessible only by a quick jump across a ditch (a wide step for you or me, a brief air-bound thrill for the 11-year-olds, and an unbreachable chasm for the 3-year-olds, who nevertheless enjoy the jump immensely so long as you’re holding their hand.

Supervising, I can’t help thinking that innovative playground developers, with their tangle of curved colored bars and knotted rope systems, are entirely missing the point — the kids have more fun rolling around in the grass and throwing rocks at trees than with any preconstructed equipment education authorities can buy. I’m reminded how innocent and sweet children are at heart when I hear G— and S— playing a sort of tag-zombie game which seems to consist of yelling “I’m going to suck your brain!” and attempting to grab the skull of another player.

2:00 pm

Emilie and I file the children back into school, past the company workers in button up shirts and pencil skirts taking their smoke break. Monday afternoon is devoted to art class and Spanish class, and the children are sent in small groups to participate in those activities. Otherwise, the students can continue the projects of the morning. The students complete impressive individual projects throughout the year that don’t sacrifice depth or quality for the lack of collaborators.

S— is working on a postcard project; she’s contacting friends and acquaintances across the U.S., asking them to send her postcards at the Montessori school address, teaching her about their town or state. She’s gathered a large number of postcards and will organize them into a visual presentation. O— has completed a project about the state of Israel, its history, people, and culture, and the poster is hanging on the classroom wall.

One of the goals of the Montessori school is to effectively link all subjects together in the child’s mind; to create a truly interdisciplinary understanding of the world. This objective makes for very creative project ideas, and the results are evident in the variety of student-made artwork and presentations on display around the school.

3:30 pm

The school day is over, but many students will stay for the next one to two hours, playing the gymnasium or participating in an activity Martine or Emilie has organized. I, however, say my rounds of “See you next week” and am out the door.

The next day I’ll be at one of the public primary schools in Grenoble. Not being an education expert, I’m not going to offer my judgment of the effectiveness of the education system in public schools compared to the Montessori approach. The purposes and needs of the two school systems are vastly different and require different methods of teaching and classroom management. Montessori schools may give more individual attention, but they also provide a lot less guidance and structure. This may or may not work well, depending on the character of each individual child. One thing I do know, however, is that I’ll be doing a lot more yelling in my public school.

Part I

Part II

For more information:
http://www.montessori-grenoble.com/UK/school-montessori-grenoble.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montessori

Part II

8:12 am

Terminus on the number 31 bus line. The bus halts in front of a grouping of new, enterprise-y looking buildings with big reflective glass windows framed in a shade of blue that suggests innovation and forward-thinking. The school is rather unexpectedly housed in one of these buildings, towards the back of the complex, sharing quarters with some kind of company that requires men and women in business attire to enter and exit through the same doors as the free-spirited, frequently-in-high-speed-motion Montessori kids.

The school is essentially three large rooms, the primary schoolroom, the pre-school room, and the gym, which is carpeted and doubles as an art studio and Spanish nook. There is also Martine’s office, a nap room for the preschoolers, a storage room, and a cloakroom where the children hang their coats, bags, and change their shoes into indoor shoes. They are only allowed to wear slippers inside the school, as it is carpeted. This reminds me of Japanese schools, except that here the children are allowed to bring their own slippers. In Japan the slippers are part of the uniforms and must be regulation color and design.

8:45 am

The kids wander in the room one by one and are by this time more or less all present. After some general comments and reminders, Martine starts the weekly routine of designating “responsibilities” onto each child. This is performed by use of a chart listing cleaning tasks to be completed each day and a small canvas sack containing the names of each child on Velcro tabs.

It took me a few months to figure out that the responsibility entitled Muffin referred to the class hamster. Insisting that the responsibilities be assigned by a random pull from the bag, Martine cheats openly on her own rule by fishing for names that she believes merit a particular nasty chore this week. The kids either suffer tremendously from the injustice of this favoritism or get a kick out of it, depending on how you choose to interpret the situation.

The responsibilities I find to be an ingenious system for ensuring an attitude of collective care and respect from all the students towards the cleaning and upkeep of the school room and materials. By being allowed to choose, in a fashion, what chore they do each week the child is given some autonomy and feels like she’s making a voluntary decision to contribute. This is probably a distinctive Montessori touch. Japanese schoolchildren also clean the school as part of their daily duties, although there they are responsible for the bathrooms as well, which I remain convinced is a mistake (imagine how what kind of clean job a second-grader might do on a bathroom — then repeat that every day for the whole year).

8:52 am

Work time. The children are either broken up into groups or sent to a desk to work individually. All the primary school kids, from 6 to 12, work in the same room, some in groups and some independently, and they pursue different activities. Martine keeps an eye on all of them and remains aware of how they’re doing and what progress they’re making, a remarkable feat for about 15 different students and different levels.

There are no set subject periods or age groups. The children have more or less the choice to work on one activity the entire morning or change subjects freely. There’s no morning recess, although there is a snack, which the children are expected to provide, following a rotation schedule. If the children tire of one activity and want to do some less-strenuous but still constructive activity such as reading, it is permitted within reason.

I take the group of English speakers. There are two first grade girls, a third grader, a fifth grader, and sometimes a first grade boy. We either do a language-arts activity all together, harder versions adapted for the third and fifth graders, or I split them up to work in pairs or alone. It’s my choice based on what we’re doing that day and how well the children are working together. When the English speakers take breaks to work on another subject, I choose a group of French children to do an English language lesson.

11:00 am

With Martine in the room, the classroom functions smoothly. With some notable exceptions, the children work quietly, although their rate of productivity is subject to debate. Clearly, some children are more ideal Montessori students than others. A group of three boys writes a bilingual dialogue together concerning an inept motorist and a driving instructor for their upcoming play. Another boy does French grammar exercises on the computer. A girl visualizes multiplication with wooden beads and a counting board.

Meanwhile, little G— sulks at his desk, complaining that his work is “too hard” and he doesn’t “understand nuffing,” and I— doodles on the margins of his essay and gazes out the window. I remind I— to get back to his work and Martine appears over G—‘s shoulder to investigate the veracity of his claim.

Part I

Part III

Grenoble Life editor James Dalrymple shares a few photos and reflections on the Grenoble’s defaced shop fronts and the transformation of the city on a Sunday.

Sunday in Grenoble. All the shops are closed, their shutters displaying garish graffiti. Quite depressing, no? Well, not for me really. I have a curious proclivity for decay and dereliction – as an amateur photographer, anyway – and hate shopping, so Sundays in Grenoble provide an irresistible opportunity for me.

To be fair, though, any casual visitor to Grenoble – particularly on a Sunday – might be tempted to see a city blighted by vandalism: tagging, bill stickers and a recent proliferation of anti-capitalist street art. Or else they might be lead to conclude that the Grenoblois store owners are lacking in civic pride or are overly laissez-faire when it comes to the wanton degradation of their shop fronts.

For me Grenoble’s Saturday to Sunday transformation is a welcome one. Gone are the herds of gabbing shoppers and down come the shutters, with their daubed slogans and spray-painted murals, simultaneously lending the city an air of decadence and “down at heel charm,” as a guidebook might optimistically put it. Sometimes vibrantly coloured, sometimes dingy, the character of the city on a Sunday is undeniably different. Love it or hate it, it invites you to look; inseparable as it is from the visual language of the city.

Here are some of my photos of Grenoble’s shut up shops, and of other defaced or stencilled doors, graffiti and bill sticking around the city. Let me know what you think about the photos and of Grenoble’s “down at heel charm.” 

Radio Activity. Photo: Velocity kendall

In the final English Talk Radio before the summer break, guests include Kristine Minski, talking about global currency markets and Bertrand Tappaz, talking about the history of 90.8 Radio Campus Grenoble.

Listen to the show: here

English Talk Radio is a talk show in English on 90.8 Radio Campus Grenoble. We talk about film, theatre, finance, restaurants, travel, and have a variety of topical guests. There are four presenters: Kristine Minski talks about finance, Christina Menez talks about China, and Vivian Draper – animatrice/rédactrice – hosts the show. Every Sunday at 12.30pm, and every Wednesday at 7pm on 90.8, Radio Campus Grenoble and live on www.campusgrenoble.org – and also here on Grenoble Life.

Listen to ETR in your car! 'Pump up the volume'. Photo: Travich

The June 13 English Talk Radio took place at Grenoble Graduate School of Business. The guests are: Thierry Grange, Dean of Grenoble Ecole de Management; Elizabeth Gorilla, Marketing and Admissions Manager; Michelle Mielly, Marketing Programme Director; graduates Beatriz Diez and Denis Coupe; students Ben Pawson, Jay Anandou and Timothée Bardet; and Pat Brans, writer, consultant and time-management guru.

Listen to the full show: here

English Talk Radio is a talk show in English on 90.8 Radio Campus Grenoble. We talk about film, theatre, finance, restaurants, travel, and have a variety of topical guests. There are four presenters: Kristine Minski talks about finance, Christina Menez talks about China, Mary Zaccai talks about student issues, and Vivian Draper – animatrice/rédactrice – hosts the show. Every Sunday at 12.30pm, and every Wednesday at 7pm on 90.8, Radio Campus Grenoble and live on www.campusgrenoble.org – and also here on Grenoble Life.

Helen McEwan (left) with children joining in on English Talk Radio

The May 21 English Talk Radio show features Helen McEwan of ABC Anglais, and took place at Les Petits Bilingues, Grenoble.

Listen to the show: here

English Talk Radio is a talk show in English on 90.8 Radio Campus Grenoble. We talk about film, theatre, finance, restaurants, travel, and have a variety of topical guests. There are four presenters: Kristine Minski talks about finance, Christina Menez talks about China, Mary Zaccai talks about student issues, and Vivian Draper – animatrice/rédactrice – hosts the show. Every Sunday at 12.30pm, and every Wednesday at 7pm on 90.8, Radio Campus Grenoble and live on www.campusgrenoble.org – and also here on Grenoble Life.

Le Créarc - international theatre in Grenoble

The May 7 English Talk Radio show features Anne-Laure Dubois and Marco Andrello of Le Créarc – Centre de Création de Recherche et des Cultures - talking about international theatre in Grenoble.

Listen to the show: here

English Talk Radio is a talk show in English on 90.8 Radio Campus Grenoble. We talk about film, theatre, finance, restaurants, travel, and have a variety of topical guests. There are four presenters: Kristine Minski talks about finance, Christina Menez talks about China, Mary Zaccai talks about student issues, and Vivian Draper – animatrice/rédactrice – hosts the show. Every Sunday at 12.30pm, and every Wednesday at 7pm on 90.8, Radio Campus Grenoble and live on www.campusgrenoble.org – and also here on Grenoble Life.

URSSAF - another elegant French acronym

Patrick Owen shares his experience starting an English teaching business, becoming an Auto-entrepreneur and dealing with France’s particular administrative complexity and love of acronyms.  

So as I come to the end of my ACCRE, I’ve contacted the URSSAF who told me to contact the APCE.  I also contacted the RSI and the CIPAV but had no response.  Therefore I sent an email to the CNAVPL.  I must, also, remember to send my annual report to the DRTEPF.  If all of this sounds like double Dutch, welcome to my world, since I started my own business.  I knew the French administration loved acronyms having lived in France for eight years, dealing with the CAF, EDF, GDF, etc.  However, when I set up my own company I entered a whole new ball game. 

After working in various language schools I decided to work for myself.  Everyone warned me against it; “It’s really complicated,” and, “The charges are really high,” were just two of the comments I heard.  It is amazing that France has so many small businesses, when you hear all the negative reactions.  In the beginning, I wasn’t sure what type of business to create with various projects in mind.  However, I soon discovered that in France, once you have trained to do one thing changing direction is not easy. Changing careers involves financial and time investments that I did not have.  I therefore decided to set up a language teaching business, since this was what I knew best. 

Now, it might be useful to explain why I had decided to set up my own business.  Many language schools will employ teachers on freelance contracts, as I had discovered during my first year in France.  The problem is that to work for a business school or university, where the better pay rates are, you need a principal employer.  In addition, for a reason that I can only speculate at, few employers are willing to sign the paper agreeing to be your principal employer.  There are two solutions: one is to use a société de portage, the other is to be your own employer.  The société de portage acts as your employer, in the sense that they take care of all the administrative paperwork, of course for this service they take a fee.  My feeling was that the fee charged didn’t really justify the work involved,  I therefore decided to set up for myself. 

I attended an event held by my local Chamber of Commerce, which didn’t turn out to be much help.  I was unable to get answers to my questions and, as I was not setting up a commercial activity, they were not the right people to ask.  In the end, it was internet forums that proved to be the most help.  I typed my questions into Google and sifted through the responses.  It was here that I learnt I would have to see the URSSAF.  They seem to be the organisation that catches the companies who are not commercial or tradesmen.  I also discovered that provided I didn’t earn too much and didn’t employ anyone else, the process was fairly simple. 

I printed a form on the internet and headed for the URSSAF.  I had been told I didn’t need an appointment.  This worried me slightly, as I had experienced the queues at the Social Security and the Prefecture.  I was pleasantly surprised to be received within ten minutes of my arrival by a pleasant and helpful adviser.  She rapidly entered my details and answered my questions, in less than an hour I was in business, literally.  She offered me a free appointment with an accountant and, best of all, showed me I was eligible for a dispensation of social taxes for one year.  I left the URSSAF with a whole different image of the French administration. 

The dispensation for one year is important and a big helping hand.  Normally a company’s charges are fixed for the first and second years.  Then the third year’s charges are calculated on the real income of the second year.  The problem is that, although, the first year’s charges are relatively light, in the second they double and this kills a lot of small businesses.  Now, certain categories of business creators, the unemployed for example, can ask for a first year free of charges.  I qualified because, although I resigned, I had been looking after my kids one day a week and received income support.  This taught me that you have to read everything because there is often an advantageous exception which you may not always be told about. 

While surfing the internet, I also discovered that if I wanted to teach in companies I would need to make a déclaration d’activité with the DRTEFP (Direction Régionale du Travail, de l’Emploi et de la Formation Professionnelle).  In France, companies are obliged to pay a tax towards the training of their employees.  This tax is often collected by organisations which manage the training funds.  These organisations will only accept training courses run by companies who have made the declaration.  Many people wrongly refer to it as an agreement, however the DRTEFP are very strict in their literature that it is not an agreement from the state, merely a declaration.  

I discovered that with the right documentation, a curriculum vitae, a casier judiciaire vierge (a document you can order online showing you have never committed a crime), and your first training contract the procedure was straightforward.  It is the contract which can be a little complicated, if you haven’t got a declaration number how can you sign a contract?  I got around this problem by noting that my declaration was being processed, and offering my first client a clause whereby if I didn’t get the number the contract was null and void. 

I treated starting my business rather as a challenge and as time went on it became a puzzle, for which I was never sure I had all the pieces.  To be honest I enjoyed pitting myself against the French administration and proving those who said it would be hard to do wrong.  It must be said that I chose the simplest possible structure and being a teacher, who teaches in companies, I have very few overheads. 

It is worth mentioning in conclusion that a law was passed in 2008 making it even easier for freelance teachers.  The status of Auto-entrepreneur is designed for people who may have multiple employers as well as working for themselves.  The process of setting up is very simple and can even be done online.  The real boost however comes in terms of charges and tax.  The Auto-entrepreneur can choose to declare his turnover each month or trimester.  The social charges and tax are calculated based on what he declares and paid immediately.  This avoids the nasty bills arriving one year after a good year.  It also means that if you have a month with no income you pay nothing.  This regime is much more sensible for someone like me. 

Unfortunately, and here is the downside of my experience, getting information about this new status has been hard.  I have read the law and the Auto-entrepreneur’s handbook.  As a sole trader I can ask to benefit from the same regime, and I have done so which brings us back to the beginning of the article.  The acronyms are all the people I have contacted to ask for help changing my status.  

On the whole my experience has been positive; the principal problem has been people.  Everything one needs to know is on the internet.  When dealing with employees of the various administrations it is a case of pot luck.  The first person I saw was excellent, others have been less so.  I once made the mistake of phoning on the day of a strike, my call was answered after prolonged ringing by a harassed and unhelpful lady.  I blame myself for this one, though, after three years in France I should have known you don’t phone the public service on strike days, I was lucky someone answered.  My advice is to be determined, do your research and treat the experience as fun, and you will be fine. 

Patrick Owen
www.englishcoach38.com
letter-from-france.blogspot.com

A filled blackboard. Photo: Rainer Ebert

In response to criticism of the education system on Grenoble Life and from the Anglophone community in France, Iain Smears mounts a passionate defence of French schooling.

Many people in the Anglophone community in Grenoble will come into contact with the French education system either through their studies or those of their family members. There are aspects about it which seem to draw criticism from a considerable proportion of the English-speaking community.

In this article, I would like to depict how my own experience of doing maternelle, primaire, collège and lycée in Grenoble, then of going to university in the UK, has shown me the many benefits of the education on offer here. In fact, it is precisely some of those aspects of the system which are often criticised which I would argue have been of value to me in my university studies. I will focus on secondary education, or more specifically the Bac Général, as I have only glimpses and second hand experience of French higher education and cannot claim to know much about the other paths in secondary education.

A major concern for some is the long hours of schooling throughout collège and lycée. I did the Bac Scientifique with the OIB (L’option internationale du baccalauréat), and I’m the first to admit that it was demanding. On a few occasions, I’ve been asked by parents with children about to embark on this path if it’s true that I did 50 hours of work a week. Their frowns of anguish are of little surprise to me when I place a finger on my lip, recollect, then declare that it was probably a dozen or so hours more than that.

I do see the sense in many of the objections to long school days and I will readily concede that perhaps the content of lessons from 5-6 pm isn’t what I remember the best – however, little is said of the end result of French schooling: how does it influence one’s experiences in higher education and after that?

I chose to study mathematics in the UK. Bit by bit, I noticed how my fellow students were finding the course more trying than I was – some would find it hard to do their work on time, others found it hard to get out of bed, some needed vast amounts of caffeine or chocolate to feel ready to take on their work. Someone put my thoughts into words by calling it a “great big hangover for having partied for the previous 18 years.”

For my part, I continued at my usual rhythm inherited from Terminale by learning my lectures as well as I could and doing my homework sooner rather than later. I think that strong discipline not only leads to successfully acquiring the material, but also helps to explore the subject to its fullest, satisfy one’s curiosity and therefore enjoy one’s studies.

The extensive testing and harsh grading schemes in French education also attract criticism. Yet I believe that it is instead very beneficial to get substantial practice of long examinations. Being able to focus and to stay sharp under pressure is an important part of exam technique and I am glad I was able to get practice in this before end-of-year exams at university.

As for the unforgiving grading, it made those good grades well deserved – something in which I found satisfaction. I found that for me and other pupils at school, it encouraged a determined attitude towards trying one’s upmost. Compare this to the comments I have heard of several students in the UK about how they were “spoon-fed just to pass exams” and “weren’t proving [their] own ability, but that of [their] teacher”, which has not helped them find self-confidence and belief in their ability. I think that learning that someone can indeed rise up to a challenge is important for him to value and appreciate his work and also helps in face of future challenges.

It is true that some people can find the difficult grading scheme discouraging. But even though grades matter for later progression, it should be remembered that what is learnt matters most. Whether someone gets a B or C on an A-level or roughly equivalently [i] a 10 on the Bac, what they have gained from school will likely be the same. When that person goes onto university, it is what that person has acquired that will be key. I know of some who struggled in a subject throughout lycée, then needed that knowledge to some extent in their later studies, and have told me since that they felt they were at an advantage against others in their group.

However if there is a clear-cut problem with the grading system, it is that it puts at a disadvantage French students who wish to study abroad, e.g. the UK. This is because admissions tutors might not be aware of the discrepancies between the systems and take estimated grades for the Baccalaureate at face value – i.e. they would assume, say, that an A is worth 16 on the Bac. Things are made worse by the fact that high numbers of UK students get the top mark: according to wikipedia [ii], 43.7% of students taking an A-level in Mathematics got an A in 2007. And unlike A-levels, Baccalaureate students cannot retake exams to improve their grades. This can result in disproportionately demanding offers for Baccalaureate pupils.

A final advantage of the French education system, which is not immediately apparent to those still undertaking it, is that it offers flexibility in later choices. Of those who did the Bac Scientifique in my class, some have gone into media relations, politics, languages, nursing… Some feel that the schooling did not suit them, but what they have done enables them to embark on a wide range of paths afterwards.

In conclusion, even though the French secondary education system has its faults, I hope it will not be forgotten that the overall result of the extensive schooling is threefold. First, it is an opening to numerous topics – it showcases vast bodies of knowledge and works to stimulate the pupil’s mind in all forms. Second, it helps to equip its pupils with the attitude, determination, self-confidence and ethos which are important in all walks of life. Third, it aims to keep as many doors open as possible all the way until the end of the Baccalaureate. Combined, I think these three aspects allow the education system to offer what one generally wants: the freedom to choose one’s way through an opening to the world.

Place Grenette, c.1900

In the second part of John Lubbock‘s brief history of Grenoble he finds himself scratching beneath the surface of the city and discovering a ”post-apocalyptic 19th century parallel universe,” among other things.

I had long been puzzled by an impressive fortification system which stands near my house on one side of Parc Paul Mistral, completely hidden by trees and currently hosting a bmx/mountainbike track on one side. I had to telephone the resident historian of the Maison de Tourisme to find any information about this structure, which turns out to have been constructed in 1813 by the celebrated military engineer Générale Haxo (who also later reconstructed the Bastille) to protect against a possible southern invasion of France by the Austrian Empire.

The Austrians indeed eventually invaded the same year and were repulsed by the city defences, but returned to occupy Grenoble in 1814 and again in 1815. These walls, or enceintes, as they say in French, (the same word is used for pregnant as well as for hi-fi speakers, which is clearly intended to confuse and frustrate learners of French) were later demolished to make way for roads like Boulevard Jean Pain, leaving them an impressive ruin overrun by trees that makes you feel like you are in some post-apocalyptic 19th century parallel universe.

In the 19th century, modernity finally arrived in Grenoble with the construction of the railways. Aristide Bergès, a paper manufacturer, installed a modern paper factory in the Grenoble valley in 1867, where he invented the first hydro-electric motor to power the factory’s turbines. He called this new source of electricity Houille Blanche, or White Oil, which is still used in French to refer to hydroelectricity.

As I said, there is no statue to mark Bergès’s achievement in Grenoble, except for some ugly student housing and a CROUS named after him. However, one look the disservice done to his memory by the invention of photography will tell you that he’s not nearly as sexy as how French romantics imagined Bayard to look. I mean, he doesn’t even have an English language Wikipedia page, which is actually more of a damning criticism of his historical importance.

Bergès, and Bayard. No comparison.

And so to bring us up to the most important century, being that in which most of us were born: the 20th. Since all history is inevitably self-centred, why not congratulate ourselves for being born in the best century – that is if centuries are judged on some kind of Tarantino-esque scale of awarding points for most limbs severed or ears sliced off.

Exposition Internationale de la Houille Blanche et du Tourisme

After the First World War, Mayor Paul Mistral began various social and cultural projects, including the 1925 Exposition Internationale de la Houille Blanche et du Tourisme. Though what these two subjects have in common is something of a mystery; perhaps they couldn’t drum up enough interest in either one by itself. For the occasion, architect Auguste Perret constructed the Tour Perret in Parc Mistral, whose blue lights can be seen from miles around, shining as a beacon to the ability of architects to create Freudian symbols of power.

It is the sole remaining construction from this exhibition, and was used at the time to transmit radio emissions throughout the whole of France, though probably not with much success considering analog transmissions find mountains to be rather a hurdle to overcome. The tower was classed a historic monument in 1998, and a restoration plan is currently à l’étude.

There was a large wave of Italian immigration into Grenoble after the Second World War to help provide workers for the new factories. They stayed after discovering that the French loved eating cheese and bread, but had never thought of combining them inside an oven.

At the outbreak of the Second World War, the Nazi invasion was stopped in the south at the Battle of The Alps, though Grenoble was occupied by the Italian army in 1942-3 after they heard how easy it was to get good pizza there. Unfortunately, the Nazis found the Italians to be a little too laissez-faire about rounding up Jews and resistance fighters in Grenoble, and decided to occupy it themselves in 1943, escalating resistance activities, the most spectacular of which was the destruction of the Bonne barracks and arsenal in December 1943.

American tanks in Grenoble, 1944.

After the war, Grenoble rebounded economically by marketing itself as a winter sports destination, aided by the construction of some hideous new brutalist buildings and ski resorts like Chamrousse for the 1968 Winter Olympic Games.

The last half of the 20th century saw the arrival of new immigrants from North Africa and the realization of the globalized and multiethnic modern character of Grenoble.

Well, there you go. That’s as far as Wikipedia will take us, so I suggest you stop procrastinating on your computer and go outside and make some more history, or else there won’t be anything else to write about, will there? Go on, outside, now …  shoo!

The crèche: in safe hands

Grenoble Life editor James Dalrymple blogs on his experience with French childcare in Grenoble and the difficulties getting that all-important place at a crèche.

Handing over your baby to complete strangers is not first on our list of desirable experiences but it is an everyday reality for working parents. France has a relatively high proportion of working mothers and an enviably fertile population, but a surprisingly short basic maternity leave. These are just some of the contributing factors that necessitate widely available and affordable childcare, which in turn do their bit to help get the balance right between being a parent and having a career.

The scolaire system

Getting a place at a municipal crèche, however, is notoriously difficult in Grenoble (and probably elsewhere in France). The largest intake of babies is in September when toddlers doff their mortar boards and graduate to Ecole Maternelle (nursery school), freeing up space for the newbies. Thus, unless you are confident of conceiving in accordance with the demands of l’année scolaire, you may find yourself out of luck when your congé de maternité or parental comes to an end. (For your info, nine months of pregnancy added to around three months of post-natal maternity leave - give or take – would make this September a good time to conceive in order for your baby to get into the crèche in September 2011 – you know what to do!).

Such crèches are subsidised by the Mairie, but parents still pay the bill depending on their means: making them affordable to all. The charges are subject deductions from the CAF before you see them, so that there is none of the time-consuming reimbursement admin which affects visits to many doctors. For my wife and I, it amounts to about two euro an hour. What’s more, thereafter, you can declare this expense against your annual income tax obligations (impôts) which sees this figure drop by a further 50%. In short, the piggy bank can be left intact for the time being.

In my experience the crèches are clean, well-equipped and staffed, with fresh meals prepared on the premises and bubbly personnel. At the end of each day I am given a detailed report on my daughter’s food intake, sleep time and number of nappies (couches) filled with unnerving precision. I am always reassured she is in safe hands, free to explore a terrain filled with ludic objects to peruse, which makes a change from her reordering my CD collection or trying to rewire a wall socket chez moi. 

The nanny state

The alternative is a crèche familiale: effectively smaller groups of children cared for at somebody’s home. This is billed as a municipal service and thus subsidised but is closer in spirit to having a private nanny. In our case, we were desperate for the lively atmosphere of the crèche for our daughter, with the different carers and larger number of children. Whereas many people appreciate the crèche familiale, we didn’t feel comfortable leaving our daughter with only one person: a person who wields such an enormous influence in a child’s life yet does so largely away from the scrutiny from her peers.

Although I’m sure the majority of women who work at crèches familiales are professional, I have heard of instances in which they were not. And if you refuse the woman the Mairie offers you, they immediately blacklist you and you have no chance of getting subsidised municipal childcare. It seemed that if we accepted this process, it was a big step into the unknown. Private nannies were also scarce at the time, and among those we met who weren’t fully booked there were some who didn’t seem to even particularly like children. These individuals were also unwilling to accept temporary terms with us while we waited for a place at the crèche to become available, as they wanted a longer commitment.

In my local quartier, the municipal crèche is situated ideally at two minutes walk from our flat, and would have stood as a mocking reminder of what we had missed if we hadn’t got a place there. Finally we resolved to make an arrangement whereby our daughter attended the halte garderie, which is effectively the same as the crèche but only for up to two days maximum. Normally this is organised on an ad hoc basis or, as in our case, with temporary rolling contracts. Luckily we were able to make other arrangements for the remaining hours that we needed but it allowed us to ingratiate ourselves a little with the staff there and secure our position on the waiting list until a place made itself available. This happened in three months.

Baby betrayal

At first our daughter was crestfallen upon being left at the crèche, acting as if having befallen an enormous betrayal. Traitor! she seemed to cry upon being passed to the crèche staff. There is an integration system by which you can leave your child at the crèche for a couple of hours at a time, gradually building up to full days, but babies are an unpredictable bunch. One day you feel a guilty tingle of satisfaction when your baby cries on being handed over to a carer: yes, my baby still loves me best! The next day your child will cry when you come to pick her up. Traitor! you seethe in silence. In the parental logic, the latter is just the baby ‘releasing tension’ at the end of the day.

The inevitable inconvenience to all this contact with other children is what has seemed like an endless loop of spectacular illnesses. The first time you see a baby projectile-vomit (à la L’exorciste), it is terrifying, but it is impressive what one can become inured to. The winter just past has been a hard one: with the somewhat false alarm of swine flu providing unwelcome distraction from the lurid retinue of tummy bugs and gastros doing the rounds. At the crèche, there is no escape from the steep curve towards stronger immune systems, but this has to happen at some point.

The three days a week my daughter spends at the crèche currently provide most of her contact with French, despite the efforts of certain staff members to speak English to me. As my wife and I speak English at home we hope this will be an effective path towards her obtaining bilingualism; but it is interesting to see the different phonemes she manages in her babillage. Among the distinctly Anglophone syllables we have started to identify some impressively rolled Rs. Once she yelled what was clearly a resounding Merde!, but I’m sure she didn’t learn that down at the crèche.

If you want my advice, persistence is key. Where there is will there is a way.

Grenoble in 1944

Want to impress your friends with your knowledge of Grenoble’s past? John Lubbock has condensed the history of the city into two short blogs so that you can show off about how much you know.

While the French are justly proud of the things their culture does well throughout the country, such as cheese, ignoring things that aren’t their business, and electro-pop, they’re not so fond of regional particularism, and perhaps this feeds into the lack of promotion of Grenoble’s interesting historical buildings and cultural heritage. Have you ever walked past an old building and thought ‘what is that thing?’, or been inside an unassuming bookshop in the centre of town, only to be confronted by a medieval-looking interior? Perhaps it’s just that Grenoble is a city so obsessed with the future that it doesn’t have too much time for the relics of the past.

Well, I for one am a big fan of relics of the past, and if there was a facebook page for relics of the past, I would be lining up to be their cheerleader.  So, Anglophones with a passing interest in ‘istoire, I know you’re busy people, so we’ll see if we can’t cover 2000 years of Grenoble history in the space of just two short blog posts. Ready? Let’s start with those good old Romans then.

Grenoble is at the crossroads of three valleys, and has been a garrison town since it became part of the Roman Empire in 43BC, when it was called Cularo. The omniscient deity, wikipedia, tells us that the penultimate Emperor of the whole Roman Empire, Gratian, was so touched by the welcome of the people of Cularo that he elevated it to the level of a Roman ‘City’ and began constructing walls to protect it.  Cularo was renamed Gratianopolis in 381 in honour of the Emperor. This name transformed over the next millennia to Graignovol and, after its incorporation into the kingdom of France, changed to its modern pronunciation through association with the word ‘noble’ in reference to the King.

After the fall of the Empire, the city was involved in a game of Merovingian pass the parcel, as it became part of the Burgundian Kingdom, Middle Francia, Lotharingia, and was also pillaged by the Lombards in the sixth century, and by the Ummayid Saracens in the eighth and ninth century. In 1030 it became part of Arelat, territory of the Counts of Albon (later Dauphins de Viennois), a protectorate of the Holy Roman Empire. The appellation Dauphin appears to be a noble title of no more meaning than ‘Compte’, due to the medieval belief that dolphins were the kings of the fishes. Modern anthropology carelessly forgot to tell them that Dolphins are not fishes, and one look at the coat of arms of the Dauphiné will tell you that its creator never saw a water-dwelling creature larger than a pike in his life.

The Coat of Arms of the Dauphiné

No doubt the Dark Ages of Grenoble history were full of peasants shouting ‘Help, Help, I’m being repressed’ for many centuries (see Monty Python and the Holy Grail for illustration) without making so much as a stain on the pages of history, and thus we are left with a dull list of the names of royal managers which resembles the Roll of Honour in the boardroom of a third division football team that nobody cares about. But worry not, for with the arrival of feudalism, interesting things were about to happen to Grenoble that would forever be commemorated by histrionic statues of romantic chevaliers.

In 1349, the last Dauphin, Humbert II, negotiated the “transportation” of Dauphiné to France. An ‘ambitious spendthrift’, Humbert supported several religious foundations, founded the University of Grenoble and sponsored a rich court. He went on Crusade and came back bankrupted, his wife and son having died during his leave. Having run out of luck at the medieval casino, he decided to cash in his chips, sell the Dauphiné to the King of France and retire to a monastery which he presumably pimped out and invited MTV over to try the indoor waterslide in his new ‘crib’.

In 1515, King Francis I appointed Bayard, the “fearless and blameless knight” Lieutenant-General of Dauphiné. Pierre Terrail, lord of Bayard, was born in Pontcharra, near Grenoble in 1476. He fought very bravely during the Italian wars, and Francis I asked Bayard to knight him on the battlefield of Marignan (1515). In a brilliant piece of Quixotic irony, Bayard was killed in 1526 by bullet from an early gunpowder weapon. Modernity – 1, Chivalry – 0.

Despite this exciting tale, Grenoble suffered heavily during this period as the city was burdened with having to support a large military presence, and the plague killed many people. A romantic nineteenth century statue of Bayard stands in Place St. Andre, giving encouragement to all the young Frenchmen who aspire to feats of arms such as combat contre neuf Espanyols and laying siege to Naples. As far as I can tell, there doesn’t seem to be a statue to the Grenoblois who invented hydroelectricity, but then that’s just not as sexy as a guy with a sword who excelled at killing foreigners.

In the sixteenth century, the Wars of Religion saw Grenoble caught in the middle of a sectarian struggle about which it is difficult to make many jokes, so we’ll keep it short. The Dauphiné was an important settlement for Protestants influenced by the Calvinist theology emanating from Geneva. The Huguenot leader, the Baron des Adrets, pillaged the Cathedral of Grenoble, destroying the tombs of former Dauphins in one of many acts of iconoclasm.

In 1575, Lesdiguières became the new leader of the Protestants and allied himself with the pragmatic King Henry IV (who converted from Protestantism to Catholicism to gain the throne, quipping “Paris is well worth a Mass”). However, a Catholic movement, the Ligue, took Grenoble in 1590, refusing to make peace. After months of assaults, Lesdiguières defeated the Ligue and took back Grenoble (which he starved into submission), becoming the leader of the entire province.

Lesdiguières served as lieutenant-general of the Dauphiné until 1626 and began the construction of the Bastille in order to protect the city. He also ordered the construction of new walls and constructed the Hôtel Lesdiguières, which faces the river on one side of the Jardin de Ville. But the religious trouble was not over, and when Louis XIV started oppressing Protestants again in the seventeenth century, the emigration of Huguenot gantiers left Grenoble’s glove industry with no competition, and it became the main industry of the city. One can only imagine that the number of duels skyrocketed as aristocrats always found themselves within a few inches of a glove with which to slap the face of a rival who had questioned the honour of their mistress.  

Prior to the French Revolution, Grenoble was the scene of popular unrest due to financial hardship from the economic and financial crises. The famous Journée des Tuiles (1788) in Grenoble is seen as one of the first popular revolts that started the revolution. The government sent troops to put down a meeting of the Estates of Dauphiné which had convened in Grenoble. The people of Grenoble climbed onto the roofs, where they threw down tiles onto the troops, thus giving the incident its name.

Rue Raoul Blanchard, painted by Debelle a century after the event, and today.

These events influenced two prominent Grenoblois, Barnave and Mounier, who represented Dauphiné in the in the Estates General in Paris. Both sought to stabilize the rapidly shifting political ground, and both became suspected of supporting the Ancien Regime, for which Barnave was executed and Mounier forced to flee to Swizerland. During the revolution, the Bastille was renamed in support of the storming of the Bastille in Paris. Grenoble itself was renamed Grelibre, though they wisely changed it back when Napoleon was crowned Emperor, in recognition of the fact that nobody had become any freer, and that the name itself was rather silly.

Since you will undoubtedly be feeling jet-lagged by such a rapid fast-forward through 1800 years of Grenoble history, we will save the last 200 years for a second blog post, and thus leave you desperate to know how the story ends (spoiler alert: Napoleon meets his Waterloo).

Speaker Grill. Photo: Chase Houston

The April 11 English Talk Radio show features Trudi Penkler, a psychologist, psychotherapist and ‘Intercultural Consultant’ with her own practice, Active Adaptation Counselling, in downtown Grenoble. The discussion is about third culture kids, particularly teenagers …

English Talk Radio is a talk show in English on 90.8 Radio Campus Grenoble. We talk about film, theatre, finance, restaurants, travel, and have a variety of topical guests. There are four presenters: Kristine Minski talks about finance, Christina Menez talks about China, Mary Zaccai talks about student issues, and Vivian Draper – animatrice/rédactrice – hosts the show. Every Sunday at 12.30pm, and every Wednesday at 7pm on 90.8, Radio Campus Grenoble and live on www.campusgrenoble.org – and also here on Grenoble Life.

Listen to the show: here

Still searching for the right path in Grenoble?

Grenoble Life’s Shonah Kennedy shares her experience of coming to the city on the “coat-tails” of her husband and discovering she was not the only woman in Grenoble who had temporarily placed their life on hold to be with the man of their dreams.

Heading back to Grenoble after a mini-break in Switzerland I wondered why I felt a little apprehensive. Then it hit me. I was going back to Grenoble AND going back to work! That is right – after what seemed like a formidably long time – I have a job! So, on the return journey to Grenoble, and inevitably to work, my thoughts were consumed by the metaphorical journey I took to get to where I was … it felt like a round-the-world trip, with multiple stopovers!

Until I had coffee with a lovely American girl, I felt that I was on the aforementioned sojourn alone – I imagined I had been the only one ever to have temporarily placed my life on hold to be with the man of my dreams, to live his dreams for a while, as mine simmered on some distant stove-top. However, as we chatted it emerged that she had decided to take a slight detour from the road she was traveling on when her husband received a job offer here. I felt relieved – even though she had been through many of the bureaucratic and emotional ups and downs that I had had to endure – as I was not alone anymore. Actually I would come to learn that the round-the-world was almost over-booked!

Even though my dear husband was very supportive and really encouraged me to get “out there” and look for the job I now have, and be able to write about it here, I really felt as if I had started this metaphorical travel with no preparation – I hadn’t purchased the latest guide book, I didn’t know the sites to see and I didn’t even think to take a language course … so when I ended up on the road, I felt as nervous as if I was going to hitchhike solo the whole way, and just hope that I arrived at the destination I was intended for.

After the coffee with my, now, dear American friend I started thinking there must be others out there like me, wandering around in the wilderness of a round-the-world which wasn’t entirely self motivated. In fact, I found a conglomerate of women living lives they would otherwise not have expected.

Now I have a job, in a profession I adore, and feel a somewhat useful part of society my lost days are few and far between. However, I have spoken to some women who still feel lost, after many years of being here. The decision was not entirely theirs in the first instance, to move to Grenoble, they “followed” – for want of a better word – their husbands here and have never really found their Grenoble feet. These women left good jobs, independence and a place where they felt at home to be with the one they love, but sadly the love of the town has never found them.

Then there are the women who have had a wonderful transition (are these the ones who acquired an upgrade to first class on their round-the-world, I wonder?!) and have not felt as if they have given up their path in lieu of their partner’s, but more taken a segue for a limited period and see many positives in the entirety of the adventure – new place, new language, new friends and an experience they would not otherwise have had.

After speaking to many women (and I know I keep mentioning women, it is not that I assume this situation only happens to women, but during my discussions on the topic of partners following partners, I only heard two separate rumours about men who came to Grenoble because their wives had jobs here) being in Grenoble for many different reasons – marriage, husband’s job, husband’s contract, boyfriend’s research etc. – I came to the conclusion that even though we are all on the same metaphorical journey we will all come home with different travel stories. Some may suffer from travel sickness, while others don’t. Some are in first class, while there are many of us in an overcrowded economy. Some get the interactive TV screens, while for some it is offline for a while, and they must wait for it to be reset. Whatever the situation the journey itself is seemingly memorable.

I would like to thank all the women who shared their stories with me, and I would like to make you aware that each of you has enhanced my round-the-world more than you will know!

Radio. Photo: stigwaage

The March 28 English Talk Radio show features guest Kate Daligault of Banque Rhône-Alpes in Grenoble talking about banking in France, and Mary Zaccai interviews Kristine Minski and Vivian Draper about five years doing the show.

English Talk Radio is a talk show in English on 90.8 Radio Campus Grenoble. We talk about film, theatre, finance, restaurants, travel, and have a variety of topical guests. We are four presenters: Kristine Minski talks about finance, Christina Menez talks about China, Mary Zaccai talks about student issues, and Vivian Draper – animatrice/rédactrice – hosts the show. Every Sunday at 12.30pm, and every Wednesday at 7pm on 90.8, Radio Campus Grenoble and live on www.campusgrenoble.org – and also here on Grenoble Life.

Listen to the full show: here

Trudi Penkler: Active Adaptation Counselling

Trudi Penkler is a psychologist, psychotherapist and ‘Intercultural Consultant’ with her own practice, Active Adaptation Counselling, in Grenoble. In the second of a two-part interview, she talks to Grenoble Life about the experiences families can have adapting to life in France.

Grenoble Life: What kind of difficulties can families have adapting to life in a new culture?

A lot has been written about culture shock, but in my experience few difficulties in adapting to a new culture can be attributed to this alone. Certainly there are some very real challenges to be faced in making our lives work in unfamiliar surroundings. Actually living day-to-day in a new country is very different from a holiday visit. Sometimes we can feel completely ‘outside’ of what is happening around us, disconnected, as if we’ll never understand or be part of where we are. There can be a sense of loss when nothing seems to be as it was before.

Although we have risen to the challenge of relocating to a new country and find the differences we encounter interesting and stimulating, we may not identify with anything within the culture around us to begin with and may feel that we are having to live in isolation, surrounded by a world we have no part in. The social support network of family, friends and people who shared our way of life before, is very much missed and it takes time to recreate this again.

We may feel robbed of the roles that gave meaning to our lives and defined our social identity before. Generally this proves to be temporary as we start forming new habits and patterns, new friendships and connections which bring meaningful structure to our lives again and also when we realize that the previous chapters of our lives are still important. If, however, sustained helplessness, anger or resignation emerge, with continued feelings of anxiety, disorientation, confusion and depression, this requires attention.

When we establish our homes in a new environment, we’ve stepped out of the rut of our own ‘normality’ for a while. Any day-to-day challenge we would have managed in familiar circumstances will require more of us in unfamiliar ones – more concentration, more energy more time. Being prepared for this and accepting it upfront as part of the adaptation process, rather than resisting it and hoping for things to feel the same as before, is helpful.

We also need to be aware that we take ‘ourselves’ with us wherever we go. This means that pre-existent problem areas like fragile marital situations or wobbly self esteem, parenting difficulties or dependency issues will not go away or magically be ‘fixed’ in the new situation. Not only will they re-emerge, but they will be amplified by the stresses of moving. This is not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes being brought face-to-face with difficulties that we’ve been carrying with us for years, but can no longer ignore, pushes us to address them.

Education is usually a very important priority for globally mobile families and whereas younger children generally adapt relatively easily, moving older children may be more difficult. Adolescence is of itself a time of change during which young people begin identifying more with their peers than their parents. Resentment, disengagement, helplessness and unhappiness can set in, if these young people feel they have been uprooted against their will and they will need empathetic understanding rather than motivational lectures from their parents. It is important to keep communication lines with teenagers and younger children open, especially about choices concerning them, at all stages of the relocation process.

When couples move, one partner’s career has often been favoured and the other may have renounced their own professional development and feel that they have lost too much, particularly if they are unable to resume a professional activity in the new country, because of language, legal or family constraints.

Leaving parents who are aging or in ill health behind in our home countries may be difficult.

GL: What other advice would you give families considering making a move to a new culture?

We don’t only take our weakness with us when we move across cultures, we also take our strengths, sometimes strengths we didn’t even know we had. We all have the resources within us to adapt to change, if the conditions are there to allow access to those resources …

But we do need to be very clear on the reasons for a move like this. Each individual family member may not be equally enthusiastic or benefit as much from the change, but each will be happier to be part of it all if the reasons have been clearly discussed and they makes sense.  

When we’re going to embark on an adventure like this, preparation is indispensible, not only in terms of the logistics of the move, but in familiarising ourselves with information about the new culture. Knowing more about the documented “do’s and taboos” of another culture is not going to prevent us from encountering obstacles and making mistakes anyway though.

A very important aspect of good preparation will involve also thinking about how we’re going to deal with change. Our emotional reactions and personal experience of a new situation are so much more positive when we’ve considered this beforehand and are consciously prepared to develop a tolerance for difference and uncertainty.

Things will be new and exciting, but the ease with which we did things in a familiar environment will not be there to begin with, especially if acquisition of another language is part of the equation. Simple tasks that we did without thinking before will take more time and effort. Although this may be frustrating, this doesn’t mean we’ve become less effective.

Coming to grips with the language of the country we’ll be living in will be essential, but there is no rule book as to how best or how quickly this should happen – we shouldn’t allow ourselves to be bullied into feeling inferior, while we’re actively learning and not yet proficient in a new language. Adapting to a new culture is not an end-point or a destination. It is a process, a learning process. We’re on the path and we are continuously progressing as long as we keep going. The pace of our own individual progress should not be measured or dictated by self-appointed ‘experts’ we may meet.

We’ll need to be gentle with ourselves, set realistic (yet ambitious) goals and respect the values and protocols of our host culture, without compromising our own. For a while our judgement will be a little cloudy while we’re learning about a new culture. It is important to consciously switch on the ‘data gathering radar’ in our minds, observing curiously all the time and verifying our conclusions by asking questions, rather than assuming we’ve understood what we’ve experienced. Most people will not find our questions bothersome and on the contrary, will enjoy being considered wise enough to be consulted.

Everything is easier when we feel stronger, so looking after ourselves health-wise should be a priority. Children should be kept informed of family decisions all the way (they’ll the need reassurance that their parents are ok, if a little lost and confused, still ok and still in charge).

We shouldn’t give up on the things we love or do well, music or painting, football or throwing a frisbee, but we’ll need to put effort into finding how to continue these activities in a different way. We also shouldn’t push ourselves to do things we don’t really want to, even though everyone else seems to be doing them. Some people really don’t like skiing or really aren’t interested in discovering the wonderful French wines here – and that’s just fine!

Keeping regular and ongoing contact with faraway loved ones will be very important too. You won’t have ‘betrayed’ them by coming to France and the more part of your experience they remain, the easier the separation will be for everyone.

And we’ll need to take the time to have fun and enjoy being where we are. This is not a test of endurance but an adventure and an “Adventure is worthwhile in itself.” (Amelia Earhart)  

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Please do not hesitate to contact me. My office is at 2 Rue de la République, in downtown Grenoble, just off of Place Grenette opposite Haagen-Dazs.

Tel: 04 76 98 93 85 e-mail: trudi@aac-intercultural.com website: www.aac-intercultural.com

Gratin dauphinois. Photo: Marylise Doctrinal

It’s a no-brainer really. Grenoble Life wants your comments about favourite things to see, do, eat and drink in Grenoble and its surroundings.

I have been asked by French Entrée to write a post on what to do and see in Grenoble. Upon tackling this in earnest I found myself baulking at the task. An increasingly poorly written list began with a walk to the Bastille, continuing through the various museums to barely legible mentions of the more attractive squares in the old town. Then, I thought, rather than regurgitating the generic Grenoble itinerary, I thought I would solicit a more idiosyncratic list of Grenoblois pleasures, open to suggestions from YOU. What and where do you like to eat, where do you drink and people-watch? Tell me about your favourite local walks, markets, parks, neighbourhoods.

Here is my idiosyncratic inventory of Grenoble favourites, a by-no-means-comprehensive list of reasons to be cheerful. I’m sorry if this heralds few surprises and all seems a bit generic … please use the comments box for your personal lists below.

• ‘Glacier Gonzales’ (Rue Servan). As good as ice cream gets, in my view.
• Driving along the Voie Sur Berge, with its colourful diaporama of the Quai opposite, reminds me of the climax of The Italian Job, even if my Citroën Saxo is not a Mini Cooper and I’m in the wrong country.
• Cycling the banks of the Isère, with its generous network of lanes.
• The crazy geometric paving stones on the University campus. Far out!
• The crumbling beauty of the St Laurent district.
• Drinking kirs and people watching on Place St André (aka Place du Trib) in the summer.
• Sitting on the sofas at the musée de Grenoble when it’s quiet, which it usually is.
• Tartes and hot chocolate at ‘Tarteline’ (Grande Rue).
• Fromage blanc at the dairy farm at Charmant Som, with bilberry coulis.
• Fondue at ‘A Confesse’ in St Laurent
• Parmigiana at ‘Ciao a Te’ (Rue de la Paix)
• Pizza in general. But if I am to be perfectly honest, my favourite pizzas come from a camionette in Montbonnot rather than one of the many along the Quai or elsewhere in Grenoble itself. However, it is my contention that you can find a good pizza more easily in Grenoble than in the tourist hot-spots in Italy itself.
• The tram. Being on the tram makes me happy, even it doesn’t go anywhere near my home. Watching it glide onto campus or snake through the old town makes me misty-eyed with pride and affection for my adopted home town.
• Bastille Day fireworks at Parc Paul Mistral.
• Being able to watch a football match at the Stade des Alpes and then stroll back into town for a beer. Even if the standard of football from the home side has been appalling this season.
• La Nef and Le Club. Old school cinemas with dependable art house programmes.
• Gratin dauphinois when it is freshly made (i.e., not resurrected after deep-freeze hibernation). To my memory, the best I’ve had in a restaurant was at the ‘Café des Alpes’ on the way up to Le Sappey ski resort.
• La Fête de la Musique. A nationwide event, admittedly, but one that impressed upon me something about the French. In England such an event could not happen without copious amounts of drink and drugs, and thus a heavy police presence – a sentiment echoed in Lucy Wadham’s The Secret Life of France (a book well worth reading by the way).
• The old town. I was surprised when I came to Grenoble how many French people – Grenoblois or not – were dismissive about the city, saying it wasn’t beautiful. It may not have great monuments of individual interest but I like the character of the old town and its attractive squares. You can give me this over the British high street, with its identikit shopping precincts, any day.
• The white-capped Belledonne massif, providing its luminous theatre scenery to the city.

Ok, your turn …

Classroom. Photo: sfar

Gregg West is an American history and geography teacher at Cité Scolaire Internationale. He also handles the school pantomime, organic gardening club, interpersonal communication classes and music club.  In this explosive article for Grenoble Life, he describes his career-long efforts to change the education system in France.

It would be preposterous to assume that any education system in the world does its job correctly, when one observes the amount of poverty, crime, violence, drug addiction, alienation, loneliness, pollution, general unhappiness, and other symptoms of human foolishness, frailty, or limitations.  But one could just say, “Oh well, people do their best and one can’t ask more of them than that.” Nevertheless, when one is a teacher and has to face an educational system day in and day out with its many constraints, it can be very trying, for even if he or she sees many kids succeed and go on to brilliant careers and happy, if not totally unperturbed, lives, there are a lot of others who will live troubled existences.

Over the last 37 years, I have tried to learn to teach and have perpetrated my teaching upon unsuspecting people, both children and adults, in North America, Scotland and France, but I have also had these teaching systems (pardon my syntax) perpetrated upon me. The following observations about the French system are not at all intended to exonerate other systems from similar criticism.

More is better

Since settling permanently in France in 1983 I have witnessed a system which believes that more is better despite the famous saying of Montaigne (loosely translated) that a “well-made head is better than a full head.” Indeed, in the Connexion of February 2010, the minister of Higher Education, Ms. Valerie Pécresse went so far as to say to a journalist “you seem to be contradicting yourself when you cast doubt on the level of lycée students passing the Bac but then suggest reducing the number of hours.”  Really, Ms. Pécresse, this is a national disease, thinking that more is always better. So why not give children 16-hour school days? Children need time for other things than school work to become thinking, feeling, well-balanced individuals. I thought everyone knew that … hmmm.

A second aspect of the French system that is curious for those of us from English-speaking cultures is the belief held by many that school is only for instruction of specific subject matters, does not require a global education of children in terms of understanding their social and psychological context, learning to motivate them, inciting them to improving their citizenship, social relations, and so forth and that, therefore, teachers do not need to learn anything but their own subject matter at university. No interpersonal communication, no group dynamics, no pedagogical methods, no interdisciplinary knowledge to coordinate interdisciplinary projects … It apparently threatens many whose work status and contract only commits them to knowing their subject … even if inspectors put pressure on them to teach better … and the French government has just decided to shut down IUFM (teacher training institutes), something highly consistent with this view.

In this extremely cerebral environment, a third characteristic of the French system, at least insofar as it concerns university-bound students, is that they needn’t develop artistic, manual or day-to-day skills like typing, driving a car, first aid, or cooking at school. (Well, they DO learn road security, but only the theory … ) In short, learning does NOT involve doing things, except writing essays, carrying out a few carefully limited classroom experiments, doing research and other relatively abstract tasks. So these other skills surprisingly only get developed among a minority of people who have the money to do them outside of school or have families patient and qualified enough to help them learn these things. When I see high school kids pecking away with their fingers on a keyboard, when I have to fork out over 1000€ for driving classes, or when I see the beginnings of obesity among French young people like in my native America, I do wonder about these priorities.

Lip service

Finally, as with many other school systems, the French speak of democracy, but practice dictatorship, pay lip service to cooperation and solidarity but practice competition, praise acceptance of differences, but punish those who do not “fit in” with ridicule, humiliating grades, and other forms of social exclusion, lecture people about human rights while submitting high school students to 50 hour weeks (35 hours of class plus 15 hours of homework a week), claim to be ecological while using throw-away pens, producing millions of tons of new, bleached, non-recycled fibre paper waste that are not even recycled, and brag about their great cuisine while abandoning their children to canteens that serve poor quality, poorly balanced meals that contain pesticides, instead of making quality and organic food priorities.  What is the saying, “Do as I say, not as I do?” Problem is, it doesn’t work that way and, as Leonard Cohen said, “Everybody knows…” Kids’ strongest learning experiences stem from doing and from example.

In such an unnatural neurotic environment, is it any wonder then that many French kids suffer from depression, insomnia, smoke a lot of cigarettes, become fashion victims or anorexics, drop out due to a lack of motivation (around 10%), or decide not to care about politics or association activity, plunging into a life of semi-blind consumption as adults, with no personal artistic side that they can cultivate to express themselves healthily? Is it any wonder that they become recalcitrant at suggestions that they drive less (so little physical exercise during their childhood), watch less TV (when did they learn how to entertain themselves?), vote more (when did anyone ask their opinion anyway?), or think about important issues (weren’t they only supposed to give teachers the answers required?), or question notions the media and political elite expound as evident (nuclear energy and genetically modified organisms aren’t dangerous, are they, or THEY would tell us … like our teachers … wouldn’t they?) Once you’ve got people conditioned, it is very hard to change them. Some would even suggest that this conditioning has been done CONSCIOUSLY to preserve the privileges of elite, but I’m not much of a conspiracy theory advocate, so I’ll leave this idea aside. I think it’s just force of habit and past conditioning … an unwillingness to question what came before.

Unfamiliar future

At any rate, all that I have described is what one would call a SCHEMATIC, OVERDRAWN picture of the French Educational system. Of course, there are positive sides, but you all know those; France is one of the world’s leading countries in social programs, economic productivity, democratic freedoms, and so forth … well, for the moment at least … But is this preparing us for an oil-poor, resource-poor future in a world where company relocation to Newly Industrialized Countries may force us to reorganize a great deal of our economy and learn to share, be happy with less, and use our imagination to find new, workable ways of life?

But of course changing things is never easy. People are afraid of unfamiliar ways, they think that what they know is the only way, there are vested interests, it involves calling habits and training into question, it doesn’t suffice to throw money at problems, and even good ideas, if poorly or insufficiently applied will lead to failure. In short, it isn’t a technical impossibility, but it remains a political improbability.

Political debate

I decided in 1987 to try to do something about all this. I spent five years in a minor political party which seemed highly motivated to lead change in society as the chairman of their education commission, consulting hundreds of students, parents, teachers, and others involved in education, as well as union representatives and school directors. We worked out propositions to change school radically (more on what these were later) … something in line with the party’s desire to “create a cultural majority for change.”

I sent the propositions to the hundred or so representatives of various regions in the party’s governing committee a few months before it was scheduled for debate on the agenda. But the day of the debate, there were “more urgent matters” so debate was pushed back till the very end of a Sunday afternoon when one third had already left to take their trains, leaving only 10 minutes to debate a topic that concerns every single citizen of a democratic country. Of those remaining, fully half were teachers … and a plurality of these opposed all the measures which might require them to retrain to handle new functions. So without any guidelines on HOW to change our propositions, we were sent back to the commission to “work on the propositions some more…” Thoroughly disgusted, I resigned as commission chairman.

An alternative school

In the U.S., as a young teacher, I had already experienced the difficulties of even modifying one local system of education, so I reasoned that if what I considered the most progressive political party in France and its host of teachers were unable to be open towards real change, then there was little hope of changing such a huge system from within. I worked for the next seven years on the idea of creating an alternative school, parallel to the system, in hopes that an example outside the system might show people what is possible. But here too I was to be foiled. Among the enthusiastic parents supporting this idea, most were penniless; among the enthusiastic teachers supporting this idea, most, not surprisingly, wanted to be paid! Real estate was too expensive to rent in large towns, and small towns placed obstacles in our path, fearing we might lower already precarious enrolment figures, provoking the closing of their public schools. There were also dreamers who talked about “borrowing seven million francs” from a bank as if any bank would ever entertain such an idea. A subscription among political activists raised some 135,000 francs, but we were never able to establish a three year budget that promised any hope of surviving, even on minimum incomes, so we were obliged to abandon the plan and send people’s money back.

At this point I decided to give up. I had a good job in a public school and began trying to develop extracurricular activities to compensate for the unidimensional aspects of school. I created a music club and later a theater program where kids could learn self-management, cooperation, create, express themselves, develop their confidence, teamwork and self-esteem, associate with older students and adults as role models instead of submitting to age segregation, and receive recognition without grades from those around them.  I found no need to involve parents for the music club, but broke an additional taboo when I got parents involved heavily in the theater program … something few French school teachers like to see … parents in the school working with kids … perhaps because it threatens their own prerogatives to teach as they see fit … but this was only outside of class …

In my own classes, I developed a method of teaching involving considerable debate and discussion, with occasional projects and games, but the program was often so immense that time was always pressing us to return to a teacher-centered curriculum.

Moving the mammoth

I suppose this is why when I was approached by a sympathetic political activist, I accepted getting involved in an association whose goal, like mine, was to move the mammoth (change the educational system) even though I remained very sceptical about the possible success of such an effort.

Over a period of about three years, we developed a support group of some 300 people, including thirty to forty teachers and three school headmasters, and we elaborated propositions very similar to those the education commission I’d managed had put forth only to be rejected. We outlined a plan for creating special schools, particularly in the junior high years (collège), and hopefully one or two in each department, which would function differently and thus serve as an illustration of alternative approaches to education. The basic ideas behind these schools included:

• Only four hours of academic solids per day, so less Math, less French, less language, less science, less history and geography (oh dear!!!). Interdisciplinary projects as a way of exploring basic subjects.
• Groups for enrichment, remedial work and orientation for one hour a day.
• Workshops to learn practical subjects, develop artistic abilities, and physical education 1 hour a day.
• Collective expression and action a few hours a week to put democracy into practice.
• A severe limit on homework and no grading, but still evaluating and testing.

One can like or dislike these propositions, but the fact remains that they allow schools to handle a number of the objections mentioned above and the existence of a certain number of schools of this type in the Northern part of Europe tends to confirm that they can be a positive experience, developing well-rounded, independent, thinking students … if properly applied.

We sent a 10-page summary and a longer 40-page detailed version of the project to various people in positions to make decisions. We met with those in charge of education at City Hall and the Conseil Général, as well as the man in charge of innovation at the Rectorate and the Academic Inspector of Isère. All reacted favorably, saying the idea looked great. When we said we also had a list of teachers and an administrator to run the school though, the Rectorate and Academic Inspection suddenly began hemming and hawing about the fact that they would need to talk to unions about it, that they couldn’t name people on the basis of aptitude or motivation, but only on the basis of seniority points (meaning the death of the project) and that they would have to check with their hierarchy on whether this was all possible (i.e., if it wasn’t pursued, it wouldn’t be THEIR fault …) Despite attempts to get them to put this on paper, they refused and they began doing what bureaucrats do when they don’t want something to happen. They sat on it, refusing further meetings, correspondence or any other indication of their position, killing the project.

Things I can do

So, at age 57, tired of spending so much energy for nothing, I chose to devote myself instead to things I CAN do without political games and support from people higher up. I continued with my teaching job, interpersonal communication classes, the music club with its concerts and CDs, the theater program with up to five shows and 750 spectators per year (our headmaster even had a stage built for us … and other groups in the school to use.) And I created an organic gardening club in our school.

None of this however will make the changes I believe that France (and other countries) desperately need in their education systems if they want to create a vast majority of real human beings capable of adult behaviour, wisdom, commitment, values, and coherent behaviour emancipated from the manipulative, narrow channels that current systems carve for them.

Radio. photo: morberg

English Talk Radio is a talk show in English on 90.8 Radio Campus Grenoble. We talk about film, theatre, finance, restaurants, travel, and have a variety of topical guests. We are four presenters: Kristine Minski talks about finance, Christina Menez talks about China, Mary Zaccai talks about student issues, and Vivian Draper – animatrice/rédactrice – hosts the show. Every Sunday at 12.30pm, and every Wednesday at 7pm on 90.8, Radio Campus Grenoble and live on www.campusgrenoble.org – and also here on Grenoble Life.

The February 7 English Talk Radio show took place at The Bookworm Café in St Laurent, Grenoble. Listen to the full show here:

p'tit vélo dans la tete on campus - photo: www.ptitvelo.net

Are you a student or a new arrival and want to know how to live in Grenoble on a budget? Expatriated Brit John Lubbock has learnt the hard way, and has kindly agreed to share his tips and experience with Grenoble Life readers.  

Grenoble is not a bad place to be poor. But, like a tramp with a favourite patch, you have to know your environment; or like a foraging bear, where the best pickings are to be had. You may need to change some of your bad, foreign influenced habits to make the most of your insertion into French culture (beer is expensive apart from Stella, which isn’t one of the best things about French gastronomy, is it?). 

Tourists, as we all know, are naive sponges who deserve to be squeezed dry, so try not to seem like one. People will often poorly attempt to converse with you in English when they realise you are not a native, but insist, “Je suis en France, il faut que je parle en français“, and they won’t despise you as much for usurping their language as the world’s Lingua Franca. It is mostly from lack of better information that tourists agree to pay higher prices, so I intend to give you some information to help you make better spending choices.

Accommodation

If you do not want to spend your first month in France on a sofa or in a hostel, it pays to research accommodation before you arrive. There is an association called OSE Club which you can join for €30 which will find apartments for you in a designated area of the city, if you want to be near to a university. Then there are websites such as www.appartager.com and www.vivastreet.com, which have petites annonces for flats, but these are generally only useful if you pay the €10 fee to see the telephone numbers of the advertisers and call them up directly as they don’t answer messages on the site.

Watch the French film L’Auberge Espagnole before you go to get an exaggerated idea of being interviewed by your future flatmates and the kinds of hilarious European stereotypes you are likely to be cohabiting with. If you are not a student, it is even more important to find a flat quickly, because without a rental agreement, you will not be able to get a French bank account or contract telephone, and will thus be considered a SDF (Sans Domicile Fixe) by the French. This will mean that you are forced to become a baba cool (hippy) and sit in the street with your dogs holding out a frying pan to ask for spare change.  

N.B. If you are staying for less than a year, it is worthwhile getting a contract phone, which will be cheaper than pay as you go, the phone will be nicer, and there’s little they can do about it when you tell them that you’re leaving the country before the contract finishes and close your bank account. But don’t tell anyone I told you.  

If you have never lived in the socialist paradise that is France, you may not be aware of the kinds of social benefits available to people living there. The CAF‘s housing benefit system could pay for some of your rent if you are a student or living on a low wage, although like most bureaucratic systems in France it takes about six weeks to get anywhere with it, and since these forms are all in French, it is more like a test of your reading comprehension which you need to pass to gain entry to French society.  

Learning French

If you are (un)lucky enough to be a political refugee, asking at the Préfecture (a big administrative building which makes you feel like Josef K from Kafka’s The Trial, wondering if you’ll ever be told what you’ve done wrong in order to end up there) or at the Conseil Général can get you free French lessons, which can otherwise be obtained by calling the ADATE organisation. I am not sure if you can get lessons with them without being a refugee, but I am considering telling them that I have been forced to flee from the UK as a result of the impending government takeover by a bunch of Tories with accents so posh and annoying that they constitute a form of social oppression. If you have to go to the Préfecture for any annoying bureaucratic reason, like to obtain a carte de séjour, don’t ask anyone which ‘queue’ you should stand in. The French for queue is pronounced like ‘que’, while saying ‘queue’ sounds like the French word for something rude.  

Transport  

When it comes to transport, if you are poor, the bicycle/vélo will become like your husband or wife, or perhaps the god to whom you pray for benevolence. If it works well, you love it and praise it, and if not you curse it. There are three main places I know of to obtain bikes cheaply. Firstly: on the street. I found three bikes lying in crumpled heaps on pavements in the first month I was here. The problem then is to take them to somewhere you can repair them. So either have a bike repair kit (Decathlon, around €15), or go to the second place to get cheap bikes – Un P’tit Vélo Dans La Tete meaning something like ‘A little bit biked in the head’.

This atelier (workshop) sells bikes that have been repaired for between €15-60, or you can go there to fix your own by paying a €15 abonnement (subscription). It is a good place to practice your French, as there are lots of guys who can help you to fix your bike, and they have a handy board on the wall with a picture of a bike and the French names for every part of it indicated. However, fixing bikes takes time, and if you have a second hand bike, or one you bought at P’tit Velo, it will break down roughly every two weeks. On the plus side, you will get very good at repairing bikes. The third option is Métrovélo, who will give you a generic yellow bike for €75 for six months (plus €50 deposit) and repair it for you if it breaks down.  

Of course, you can always chance a free ride on the tram, but getting caught by the officials will land you with a €65 fine, unless you can pretend to be a totally clueless foreigner. The tram tariff is €24 a month for students, but Grenoble is the flattest city centre in France, and waiting for a tram and slumming it with Joe Public are hidden costs not worth paying in my opinion. That’s why liberté comes before egalité and fraternité: because it’s more important.  

If you want to go further that the city limits, go to www.covoiturage.fr and find someone who is making the same journey as you to go with. It will be far cheaper than any other method of transport, and the people I’ve met doing it have all been nice.  

Food  

Although many people come to France for the food, as an impoverished young person, this will likely be one of the areas in which you sacrifice quality in order to live within your means. To paraphrase Oscar Wilde, a man who lives within his means has no imagination; but you will likely be finding your culinary options limited by the exigencies of having little money to spend. Ed is a cheap supermarket, and it happens to bear the name of some of my friends, although since the name Edward doesn’t exist in French, they call it “Ee-de”, which sounds much more corporate and less friendly. It is worth taking a notebook around to the supermarkets to write down prices of items you buy regularly, because while vegetables may be cheaper in Ed, Géant may have cheaper milk, for example. Unfortunately, I have just been informed by my collocataire that Ed is closing down – evidently the world of modern commerce is too cruel for such friendly-named businesses – but Lidl is almost identical in that it has hardly any choice of products and brands you have never heard of, but they are all usually cheaper than the Géant/Casino equivalent.  

Yet if one just bought the budget Casino brand pasta/rice/couscous to eat with with vegetables every day, you might end up wanting to kill yourself. So for the minimum luxury of not cooking the food yourself, you can go to a CROUS canteen, near the gare, or in Domaine Universitaire. These are supposed to be for students, but you can just pay the €2.90 it costs for a meal there in cash without showing any student card as well. You get bread, salad or cheese, a main meal of canteen standard chips/pasta/vegetables/etc. and some meat served with customary indifference and a bad attitude by people who look deeply unhappy about serving ungrateful students who could pay their wages with their tuition fees (those who go to an École supérieure anyway).  

Working  

Of course, if you really want to make things easier on yourself financially, you could get a job. “A job? What’s that?” I hear you cry. “I am a student – they don’t work. Then I wouldn’t have time for all the drinking and Facebook which the energy I consume from crisps and Red Bulls goes into”. Well, you could work part time. If you are a native English speaker, you could get employed by a soutien scolaire company, telling kids what they did wrong with their homework. Believe me, it’s satisfying to be on the other end of this after receiving homework corrected in red-teacher-ballpoint ink for 10 or more years. Don’t be put off if you don’t have a TEFL or CELTA qualification, I didn’t find this a hindrance, though it may help to say you have experience of private teaching even if you haven’t.

If there’s one thing I learned looking for jobs here it’s that it doesn’t pay to be honest: always tell them you are available to work, always tell them you have the experience. It took me a while of offering my services to language companies (Grenoble Life already has a useful list here), universities and other places like the Chamber of Commerce and Rectorat before I was employed, but once you have your foot in the door, you will hear about other teaching  jobs that are advertised within teaching circles.  

The Pôle jeunesse on Avenue Agutte Sembat has a useful wall full of job and accommodation offers. But if you have a degree, they will tell you that they can’t help hoity-toity types like you and that you should go instead to AFIJ who have an office at 29 Avenue Felix Viallet near Cour Jean Jaurès. These guys mostly have offers for internships or well paid jobs, so if you are just looking for a petit boulot, the Pôle jeunesse might be more useful.

You could try working in a bar, but the French can be quite snooty if your linguistic skills aren’t up to scratch. This matters less when applying to one of the studenty bars like London Pub or Sun Valley, but you will invariably have to call a Frenchman ‘boss’ (and thereby lose all the nationalistic self-respect you have built up living in your own great land), and traipse around the campus putting up flyers just for the pleasure of sacrificing most of your evenings for €9 an hour. There are also lots of agencies you can work for who hire waiters and other restauration workers for company or other private functions, but I personally found them somewhat useless, though Adecco is worth a try. Then you can try the listings in Pôle Emploi, which is like the JobCentre in the UK, but with more paperwork.  

Of course one of the reasons why you came to Grenoble is to ski, so if you are a student, join the École de Glisse, and try to obtain some cheap equipment from one of the second hand ski places like Boite aux Skis. There is no way of getting around that skiing is expensive however you do it, but hopefully you will have saved enough money in other areas to afford the silly ski-pass prices. And if you injure yourself, just remember to have your European Health Card handy. Good luck, mes amis.

SFM Traduction online

Sara Maltaverne, founder of SFM Traduction, a Grenoble-based translations and copywriting company. She shares with Grenoble Life her knowledge and advice about the translation business in the area.

Grenoble, where going international just comes naturally

The greater Grenoble area is home to some 450 foreign-owned businesses and is one of the French economy’s leading exporters. So, for many local businesses, enlisting the services of a translator—a potentially risky undertaking—is simply a fact of doing business across borders. But how do you know if the translations you’ve purchased do your product justice when you don’t understand the language? Worse, can you be sure that the translations won’t cause serious damage to your image or result in the costly duplication of work?

Whether you need the latest foreign market research to launch your product overseas or compelling marketing collateral to grab the attention of potential customers, a professional translator or interpreter is an invaluable ally. Remember: translators work with written documents (brochures, reports, correspondence), while interpreters communicate orally.

Here are a few things you can do to increase your chances of getting a successful translation—and your business’ chances of making it in today’s global marketplace.

Penny wise, pound foolish: bilingual does not equal translator

A Grenoble-based building management services provider needed an English version of its brochure for an upcoming trade fair. To save money, the company decided to assign the translation to its in-house staff. One of the gems produced: as an introduction to an excerpt of the company’s lengthy and prestigious client list (“quelques références” in French) the erstwhile translator—no doubt with the help of a French-English dictionary—came up with the translation “few references,” which is the exact opposite of what the brochure was trying to convey. Thanks to their savvy bilingual secretary, who sensed something just wasn’t right, this and other embarrassing bloopers were avoided when she called in a professional translator to check the brochure before going to print. However, in addition to the lost work time the company’s employees spent slogging through the translation, the firm had to pay a rush fee to have the brochure reviewed by a professional in time to get it to the printer.

How can you avoid falling into the same trap? By calling in a professional translator from the planning stages of your project and drawing up clear specifications.

The following three steps will help you get your translation project off to a good start

   1. Decide what needs to be done, when, and who is responsible for each stage. Everyone involved in the production process (from document authors to DTP) should be aware of the timeline and specifications. Put it all down in writing.

   2. Once you have determined your workflow and deadlines, you will need to choose a service provider. As a general rule, professional translators work into their native language only. Referrals from colleagues in your industry are a good place to begin your search, as are professional translators associations. In France, you can try the Société française des traducteurs online directory at www.sft.fr. The ideal translator has a track record both in your industry and with the type of document you need translated and can prove it by showing you examples of previous work.

   3. Once you have selected a service provider, check again to be sure the purpose of your translation is clear. Are you translating incoming texts that your business needs for information purposes only or outgoing material that will have an impact on how your company is perceived by customers? The quality you need—and the cost—will vary accordingly. Discuss this with your service provider and get all commitments in writing. You and your service provider should know and agree on who is responsible for each step in the translation process.

Still not sure you’re ready to cross the language barrier?

You can better prepare your business to go international by learning as much as you can about working with translators and interpreters before the pressure is on. Start with Translation: Getting it right, and Translation: Buying a non-commodity, free downloadable brochures endorsed by language industry professionals. Professional groups like the American Translators Association are also an invaluable source of information. Once you have the tools you need to take your business overseas, the sky’s the limit.

About SFM Traduction

Grenoble-based SFM Traduction was founded by Sara Maltaverne as a freelance translation business in January 2003. SFM Traduction is today a premium professional translation company specializing in creative, marketing, and financial translations and copywriting for high-profile corporate communications. You can learn more about the company and its services at www.sfmtraduction.com or blog with us at www.sfmtraduction.com/blog

Sara Maltaverne

Bread! Photo: Denis Morel

New from our partner Captiv Magazine, this authoritative article about the history of that precious French cultural commodity, bread, covers the history of le pain through to its place in modern French eating habits and ever-evolving baking methods. Read the full article at www.captiv-magazine.fr

Dials. Photo: ericcomando89

English Talk Radio is a talk show in English on 90.8 Radio Campus Grenoble. We talk about film, theatre, finance, restaurants, travel, and have a variety of topical guests. We are four presenters: Kristine Minski talks about finance, Christina Menez talks about China, Mary Zaccai talks about student issues, and Vivian Draper – animatrice/rédactrice – hosts the show. Every Sunday at 12.30pm, and every Wednesday at 7pm on 90.8, Radio Campus Grenoble and live on www.campusgrenoble.org – and also here on Grenoble Life.

The January 22 English Talk Radio show features Trudi Penkler, psychologist and inter-cultural coach and trainer, talking about teenagers and moving. Listen to the full show here.

Les Nouvelles de Grenoble

In the latest post in his blog The Franco-American Daily Deconstructionist; History and Culture in Everyday Life,  John Hess leafs through the City of Grenoble Magazine Les Nouvelles de Grenoble. Here’s what he has to say about it.

Many of you who have the good fortune to live in Grenoble, wait breathlessly for the end of each month, because that means a small portion of your tax payments will be returned to you a hundred-fold, in the form of Les Nouvelles de Grenoble, “the city informational magazine.”

For those of you who do not have this good fortune : the magazine is a glossy, super-sized A4 format affair, arriving free in residents’ mailboxes each month. It is published by the municipal government, at taxpayer expense, and purports to provide helpful information about happenings in Grenoble, especially of a political, social, or cultural nature.

Perhaps you enjoy reading Les Nouvelles: it’s professionally produced, there are lots of color pictures, the articles are short and easy to digest, and it’s all so refreshingly upbeat. When I read Les Nouvelles de Grenoble, I realize that I am living in the world’s most wonderful city. Perhaps I have even died and gone to the urbanists’ paradise. Well, then I go out my door, and harsh reality sets in; but o the illusion, however fleeting, is delightful!

But have you ever wondered about the content of the magazine? For it clearly is not just the neutral statement of city-related current facts and goings-on that you would expect from a publicly-funded publication. There is, of course, the natural phenomenon of editorial selection: the magazine is strangely silent about the crimes, mishaps, and dysfunctionalities that weigh on city life; we hear only about the good stuff. The temptation to intellectual dishonesty seems to be too great, however, for the editors to stop there. What they do report on has to be qualified with glowingly positive adjectives.

So does issue n° 131, October 2009, tell us on the front page that in matters of sustainable development, “Grenoble is keeping its promises”, even though this is a self-evidently worthless statement. If one wants to know if promises are being kept, one generally has the sense not to ask the promise-maker, which is sort of like asking the accused if he’s guilty or not–and basing the verdict on the answer.

On page six of the same issue, we find out that the city-engineered renovation of St Bruno Square has “restored its soul as the lively and convivial heart of the neighborhood.” Well, I hadn’t noticed, but if the city engineers say so, then that’s good enough for me!

On page seven, we find out that there is not just a new crèche in that same neighborhood, but a “spanking brand-new” crèche, which is somehow different from a new crèche, though I suppose appropriate for child-rearing disciplinary purposes.

On page eight, we find out that the Philippeville Square crèche is “new, beautiful and environmentally-friendly”, which will certainly be a relief to parents concerned that their children’s day care was aggravating global climate change, though they may regret that the newness is not spanking in this case; and while some local residents find the crèche “butt-ugly”, they were apparently not interviewed for this article.

On page fourteen, we have another “spanking brand new” building, this time a library in the Teisseire quarter, also qualified as “magnificent.” (If the Teisseire library is already “magnificent”, then what adjective remains to us to describe, say, The New York Public Library, or the Great Library of Alexandria ?) It goes on and on, upbeat snippets about all the wonderful and progressive developments in Grenoble, directly or indirectly thanks to the actions of the city government, culminating in the municipal self-love-fest about sustainable development from page 18 onwards.

How can this sort of thing be possible ? Well, in a country where the press is expected to be partisan and indeed captive of a particular interest group or ideology, and where the state likes to pose as the benefactor to all (and never mind where the money comes from), it is not just possible, but considered quite normal. And this is the problem !

But why do I complain ? You know, in fact, the business model of Les Nouvelles de Grenoble magazine has inspired me. Watch this space, as Grenoble Life becomes John Hess Life, full of interesting articles about how wonderful, nay, ineffably divine, John Hess is, all written in breathless prose by John Hess. You will, of course, pay a monthly subscription fee for the privilege.

The French Paper website

Michael Streeter, Editor of theFrenchPaper, talks to Vivian Draper of English Talk Radio, 90.8 Radio Campus Grenoble. Read the full interview here.

Vivian Draper: Hello Michael and welcome to Grenoble, even if only in print. It is eight months since we last spoke about theFrenchPaper, what has happened in those last eight months?

Michael Streeter: It’s been busy! In addition to the main paper we’ve produced a number of supplements to go with it, including one on sport and another on winter sports. We have also been hard at work trying to promote the paper in various places. Obviously as your readers know France is a big country and targeting our audience of English-speakers is not always as easy at it might seem, so this has taken up a lot of time and will continue to, I’m sure.

The main thing, however, is that we’ve been trying to maintain and improve our editorial quality. Our aim has always been to produce a quality newspaper about what’s going on in France with a design and feel that can compete with, for example, the best of British national newspapers. That’s the level we’re aiming for and we spend a lot of time on getting it right. Obviously nobody’s perfect, but I’d like to think we’re moving in the right direction. Certainly the feedback we’ve got from readers has been fantastic. I think they can see that a lot of effort and thought goes into each edition. Above all they seem to find us a grownup and enjoyable read, which is great – that’s what we’re aiming for!

Vivian: Printing newspapers has changed vastly in the last 30 years, no more inky fingers?

Michael: Yes, things have certainly changed since I first started in Fleet Street many years ago. Back then you needed to wear gloves if you were handling bundles of paper. The quality of the presses and inks has improved so much – as has the ability to price good quality colour pages. When you compare newspapers of today with those of 30 years ago they are so much bigger, more colourful and, I would argue, much better value for money.

Vivian: Where is theFrenchPaper published?

Michael: It’s published in London by the printers of The Guardian and Observer, though we have no editorial or other link with them. Why there? Not for any chauvinistic reasons, it’s simply that not many presses can currently print the Berliner format we use (it’s half way between a tabloid and broadsheet in size).

Vivian: Is distribution of theFrenchPaper going smoothly?

Michael: Don’t get me started on distribution! Much as I love France there are still some things that baffle and frustrate me here and newspaper distribution is definitely one of them. Let’s just say it’s a ‘challenge’ getting the right number of copies to where we want them to go each month … and if people find it hard to get hold of a copy at their nearest outlet please do let us know. Things are getting better, but it’s a slow process.

Vivian: What is your average day like?

Michael: The first thing is to keep on top of the news. I’ll always listen to the radio news bulletins in the morning (France Inter usually) and then catch up on the Agence France Presse wire service. I also read news websites, newspapers and the weekly magazines such as L’Express and Nouvel Obs. Much of my day is spent coming up with ideas, commissioning and briefing reporters, editing stories and where necessary sending them back to be re-written! The final week before we go to press is obviously the most hectic, and the working day is rarely under 12 hours. There are pages to proofread, headlines to rewrite, captions to check, all the time making sure we aren’t missing anything major.

Vivian: Not only French news in English, you have broadened your scope to include many other areas?

Michael: I think these days a newspaper has to offer more than ‘just’ the news. As a monthly paper we both have a round up of key stories that have affected France in the previous weeks and offer analysis and commentary on those stories we think really help tell the reader something about France and how it works. On top of that there are features, real life stories, lifestyle, travel, motoring, sport, puzzles and crosswords, commentary, advice pages, financial information, pages with advice for small businesses, food, gardening, nature … it’s quite a full list! I see our mission as being to entertain and stimulate as well as to inform.

Vivian: Such a variety of articles too, does each newspaper have a theme?

Michael: To an extent yes, especially if it’s linked to a time of year, such as Christmas, or the summer holidays or the start of the skiing season. However it’s also important that we cover a broad range of what’s going and we need to appeal to a wide range of people so I don’t like to get too tied down to one theme.

Vivian: What has surprised you most about theFrenchPaper since the first issue?

Michael: One has been the reaction of many readers. I did expect people to like the paper as it’s something different, but I have been amazed just how much some people say they love it. It’s not for everyone of course and some people have complained that there’s ‘too much about France in it’. Fair enough, you can’t please all the people all the time, I guess. Another surprise has been how popular we are with some French people – I really hadn’t expected that.

Vivian: Talk about the technology used in editing a newspaper in 2010

Michael: Where would we be without the internet and email? Information gathering is so much easier now because of websites, searchable databases and libraries and so on, though I still prefer to speak to people directly for information if possible – you always get more like that. In terms of the page layout and design process, it’s simply a question of using a publishing software package and having the skills to use it properly to produce the pages. These are all laid out and designed by our great design team, including the photos, and once we’re happy with the pages they are simply emailed to the printers ready for printing. It’s that straightforward, though of course you need the right skill to be able to make the pages look good (that’s down to Nadia, our art editor, not me I hasten to add). With an internet connection you could edit the paper from the top of a mountain!

Vivian: Who is reading theFrenchPaper?

Michael: As I’ve just mentioned quite a few French people! But of course our main readership is among Britons and Americans living in France or coming here on holiday or to visit their second home, as well as Irish residents, Australians, New Zealanders, South Africans and other nationalities who prefer to read in English rather than in French. As for age groups and profiles … very varied. Lots of pensioners read us, but then so too do young working families with children. I think the common theme among readers, though, is that they are all interested in life in France, rather than just life as a foreigner in France, if you see what I mean. They are people who like to look outside the ‘expat bubble’ and want to know what France is doing and what French people are thinking and saying.

Vivian: Your articles on Work & Money are most interesting; also The Eco Worrier, which can be quite funny, in an English sort of way.

Michael: The Work & Money section is very important for us – we want to give readers advice on running their business, on saving money or even what benefits they can legitimately claim here. As for Eco Worrier’s English wit … Graeme is Scottish so I’m not sure how he’ll take that!

Vivian: The small Ads and KidsPaper are lively too – do children really write theFrenchPaper KidsPaper?

Michael: Yes they do, though naturally they get a helping hand from adults too. It’s a section that’s gone down really, really well with young families, including young French families.

Vivian: Recipes, gardening, and giveaways – talk about the giveaways, please

Michael: Well, food and gardening are part of those lifestyle things that many people associate with their life in France so they are very important subjects for us. As for giveaways, many of our readers come from Britain where they are used to their newspaper offering them a variety of promotions, free goods, cut-price deals on so on. So it’s simply part of the mix, something that readers expect. We all like the chance to win a little treat, don’t we?

Vivian: You also have a part of theFrenchPaper called Real Living; I’m thinking of the article about sheep and shepherds, which was so interesting

Michael: Yes I loved that story. France has such a varied landscape and people, and the aim of our real life stories is to bring to life the many characters who have amazing and fascinating lives here – whether French or not.

Vivian: As Editor of theFrenchPaper, you have final say on what goes out in each issue – does it keep you awake at night?

Michael: As an editor you do get used to that kind of decision-making. To be honest, I have always enjoyed that kind of pressure as an editor. I think the toughest thing for me is that theFrenchPaper is a monthly. On a daily paper, which I’m used to, if you felt you’d under or overplayed a subject one day, you had an immediate opportunity to put it right the next day. With a monthly you have to live with your decisions for quite a while!

Vivian: Lindsey Partos on food prices in your January issue was most informative, can we expect more articles like this?

Michael: Definitely. Lindsey has a good track record in food industry journalism and I’m very keen that we do more of this type of consumer story.

Vivian: Ma Belle France is a great read in The French Paper, also the idea that we use more lipstick when the financial outlook is bleak – how about free lipsticks for your great giveaways?

Michael: Lipstick isn’t my speciality subject but I will definitely mention this to one of my better-informed colleagues!

Vivian: The Big Quiz is a super idea in theFrenchPaper – we can feel really well informed, or if we are not, we can sneak a peek at the answers, right?

Michael: Of course – it’s just a bit of fun! That said, it is also a good source of snippets of information, as well as being a lot of work!

Vivian: Of course you don’t work alone, how many permanent staff does theFrenchPaper employ?

Michael: There are two of us who oversee most of the editorial, with another two who look after the design, sourcing photos and so on. Then there are regular freelancers who work on sub-editing, proofreading, columns and other parts of the paper. The vast majority of the content is written by freelance contributors under our guidance. Then there’s the ad and marketing teams.

Vivian: What is next for theFrenchPaper?

Michael: In the paper, we’ll be seeing more supplements and specials on subjects of particular interest to our readers. Essentially my aim is to maintain the quality and reputation we have established and build from there. A key issue is marketing – getting the paper better known. Having launched in June last year I’m sure that the majority of our target audience still doesn’t know we exist. We have to put that right. Another key area is our news website – it’s under construction and we’ll let you know when that’s ready.

Vivian: How about some contact information?

Michael: Well we do have a marketing website at www.thefrenchpaper.com. Here you can subscribe from as little as €29.47 for 14 issues. And on the newsstands we are just €2.50 an issue – which I hope people agree is pretty good value for money. If anyone wants to contact me they are very welcome to email me at: editorial@thefrenchpapaper.com

Vivian: Michael thanks for this interview and we look forward to the next issue of theFrenchPaper

Michael: Thanks for letting me talk about a subject I love – newspapers!

Freebox: Photo Martin Menu

Grenoble Life editor James Dalrymple has one piece of advice for readers hoping to set up an internet connection in France: don’t use Free. Here’s why.

One of the first considerations when setting up home in a new country is getting an internet connection, nowadays almost as essential a utility as gas, electricity and water. When I arrived, one company dominated combined phone and internet packages: Free - seemingly the only good value alternative to France Telecom at the time. Now there are better value options on the market, but extricating yourself from your contract with Free is not as simple as it should be, to say the least.

Customer service in France often leaves a lot to be desired, but Free goes beyond the normal depersonalised call centre experience to seemingly deliberate efforts to overcharge and stonewall customers that have spawned large internet communities of unhappy punters and consumer associations, but has not apparently done enough to make Free contemplate their reputation.

A Free account is relatively easy to set up, but when you want to cancel your contract, they require you to return the Freebox router by post. All very well, except for the fact that – in our case, and that of many others – receipt of the box is not acknowledged, even if you have paid for a registered delivery service which enables you to track the package by internet to its destination. Free don’t receive the boxes themselves, but subcontract this task to a logistics company.

When Free disputed receipt of the box, our enquiries at the Post office were met with the response (or something to this effect) “Free do this all the time.” Angry consumers in numerous web forums support this, as does the existence of an association named Freeks, dedicated to helping customers untangle themselves from unpleasant disputes with Free, among other internet companies, and who list ‘mediation’ with Free as one of their services. This leads one to suspect Free are quite aware of the situation many of its customers find themselves in, and it is not just a case of logistical inefficiency.

Having claimed that they never received the box, Free then demand that you send them proof of dispatch (i.e., the receipt for registered post) by fax. That’s right, an internet service provider who communicate by fax - everybody’s favourite  21st century means of contact. It gets worse. There is evidently only one fax machine, apparently located at a call centre in Eastern Europe, which is engaged for large periods of the day. As if people don’t have better things to do than spend entire working days trying to send the equivalent of cyber bog roll to the other side of the continent.

Further still, the company insist that you call them within two hours of having sent the fax (assuming you have been able to get through), on a premium rate number. Finally, when we reached the call centre by phone, the operator was both vague and reluctant as to whether they had received the fax – maybe try again tomorrow? (another day loitering by the fax machine, more premium rate numbers). Only on being pressed did the unhelpful operator admit to receiving all the pages of the fax, but claimed it was illegible. Of course it’s illegible, it’s a fax! … we wanted to scream.

It’s a Catch-22, for if we hadn’t rung the bank to halt the direct debit we would probably still be in some daily fax-rage limbo while we almost certainly continued to pay for a service that we are not receiving, and have no wish to receive. We have written to complain to Free’s Customer Services, a postal-only service in France, and they have accepted the end of the contract, but not receipt of the box. They are demanding payment for a additional month’s subscription, and are still asking for the box back, which apparently costs around 400 euro.

Unfortunately you can fight with your principles but short of getting the consumer associations interested, you run the risk that Free will sell the debt on to debt-collection agencies, which really isn’t funny. It’s all over the web, from customers in the same situation as me, to those who never received the box in the first place, and have been paying for a product that was never delivered.

Thus, if you are a new arrival to the country hoping to choose an internet supplier, I strongly recommend that you opt for one of the alternatives. For example Numéricable, the optic fibre cable company, offer a faster connection and a basic telephone and internet package which costs around 20 euro a month, at the time of writing 10 euro less than Free. Numéricable at least have offices in Grenoble with human beings to whom you can speak face to face – which is reassuring – and send a technician to install and remove the router. I haven’t had the pleasure of having to close a Numéricable account, but it can’t be worse than my experience with Free.

Please use the comments box below to share your experiences, good and bad, with internet and phone providers. I hope that this word of warning might help other customers avoid falling into the same trap.

Mixer. Photo: Andrea 'Bau' Pinti

English Talk Radio is a talk show in English on 90.8 Radio Campus Grenoble. We talk about film, theatre, finance, restaurants, travel, and have a variety of topical guests. We are four presenters: Kristine Minski talks about finance, Christina Menez talks about China, Mary Zaccai talks about student issues, and Vivian Draper – animatrice/rédactrice – hosts the show. Every Sunday at 12.30pm, and every Wednesday at 7pm on 90.8, Radio Campus Grenoble and live on www.campusgrenoble.org – and also here on Grenoble Life. 

The 18 December 2009 English Talk Radio show took place at the Grenoble Graduate School of Business and featured GGSB’s Judith Bouvard, Dean and Director, and Mary Zaccai, International Press Officer. Listen to the show here

'Crise immobilière'. Photo: _02_

 Grenoble Life editor James Dalrymple shares his personal experience as a first-time home buyer in the Captial of the Alps – and is happy to report that it’s not all bad news!

Now that I am starting to see a flicker of light at the end of the rather dank and cavernous tunnel called home-buying, I feel compelled to share some of my observations. Whereas I can confirm its status as one of life’s more arduous experiences, it has not been worse than I had anticipated, for no-one ever said it would be a breezy walk in the park with a big piece of cake.

Before deciding to buy a flat I’d had several friends trying to re-educate me on the value of renting for life; unconvinced by the merits of life-long debt and the likelihood of paying the price of one’s property several times over in interest. “Be cash rich and asset poor,” these savvy characters insisted, pointing to the lower home maintenance costs and fewer taxes for locataires (for example the annual taxe foncière is only levied upon owners, not tenants).

One fact of life as propriétaire in a co-property is that one can face hefty fees if the exterior of the entire building has to be repainted, or if there is a shared heating system to be replaced: neither a tenant’s problem. Owning one’s own home, though, is pretty much brainwashed into Brits as a rite of passage, even if we have to accept that we can’t necessarily afford what our incredibly lucky baby-boomer parents had. When my career is over, however, I would like to have paid for my home, and be able to subsist rent-free on whatever meagre pension I have accrued.

To quote a Grenoble Life contributor, Felicity Lodge – whose article Arranging your finances in France is well worth a read - ”buying a property in France is highly regulated”.  I concur, and there are some major pros and cons to the regulation. She goes on to say, “the amount you can borrow is controlled so loan payments and any other regular obligations cannot be more than 33% of your monthly income (net of social charges)”. This may seem strict but the French are a prudent people, and the banking culture befits a country less footloose with borrowing. The kinds of problems that led to the sub-prime crisis in the US couldn’t have originated in France. Likewise, credit is not as easily available as in the UK, and I have the impression that people are more sensible with their disposables.

The upside of a regulated home buying process is that there is less risk. Once you have agreed a price with a seller, you can engage the process via a specialised lawyer (a notaire) who manages the sale from then on. Once you have signed the pre-contract compromis de vente, there is little chance of being gazumped given that the seller would subject themselves to a significant fine if they chose to break it.

In Britain you stand the risk of having incurred legal and surveying costs only for the seller to pull out in the 11th hour to accept a better offer from a rival buyer. That this gazumping is allowed to stand in the UK is obscene, one feature of the county’s rather lunatic housing market. In France, however, the absence of risk comes at a cost: namely 6-8% of the sale price. This covers all legal, tax and surveying concerns, but certainly amounts to much more than the sum of those individual costs in Britain: and most of it goes directly to the government. This fact lends credence to the idea that renting is better value than buying – it is an enormous financial consideration to face on top of one’s downpayment, and a serious obstacle to owning a number of different properties in one’s life.

In the event our notaire was good value for money, something of a showman in fact. Having let his juniors take care of the preliminaries we were marched into his office for the final exchange of contracts. With well-honed comic timing and vigorous gesticulating, his beautifully flowing oration was magnificent to behold: condensing a summary of France’s unsurprisingly substantatial housing law into an hour-long address. Furthermore there were some last minute complications with the bank but he - a force of nature not to be meddled with - was by then sufficiently committed to our purchase to bang some heads together at the bank to keep the ball rolling.

Personally I could see no advantage in approaching an agence immobilière (estate agency). Assuming that you have an idea in which quartier you would like to buy, and the appropriate value for a property in that area, you can search for private sellers online on sites such as Paruvendu and Leboncoin. We negotiated directly with the seller, bypassing the middle man. Given that the notaire conducts a thorough survey of the property and that you can withdraw without charge at the signing of the compromis de vente, then the need to work with an agent did not make itself apparent to me.

If, like me, you are a first time buyer in France, you could be entitled to a zero per cent loan of up to around 30,000 euro. Such loans, and their duration, are defined by your means. We qualified for approximately half of the thirty, and it has to be repaid within the first six years of our mortgage.  However, we found ourselves in the slightly sticky position of having (for reasons too boring to explain here) to apply for this from a different bank to that from which we had agreed our principal mortgage. Of course, the bank from which we were requesting the zero per cent loan held us captive while they tried in vain to beat the mortgage we had secured from our other bank, and upon realising they couldn’t do it, saddled us with a rather inept trainee to administrate the loan.

Trying to get a bank to hurry up (necessary when deadlines have been imposed by the notaire) when there is essentially no profit in it for them is quite futile – more so when you’re main contact hasn’t a clue what he is doing. Amusingly, said bank tried to fob us off by saying something along the lines of “there’s so much admin involved in this loan that it’s hardly worth it”. That’s right, admin not wo