When I finally got my arrêté de nomination from Nantes which told me in what city I would be an assistant and at what schools I’d be teaching, I also got a few other papers. One paper was a form that it asked me to return by July 15 to confirm that I was accepting the position as a teaching assistant. I got that on July 16. Ahh, you’ve got to love French paperwork. Another sheet gave me information on my living situation, basically telling me that I had nowhere arranged to live but offering a phone number for someone who rents rooms near the schools. A phone number? Why not an email address? I have to call this guy, really?
If you know me, you know I’m not comfortable speaking French – especially not with a native speaker. I wasn’t looking forward to calling Monsieur Dupas. I sat there in front of the phone, contemplating what I’d say like a 13 year old girl calling her first crush. After an embarrassingly long time, I finally bit the bullet and dialed the number. He answered, dammit! Fortunately, it didn’t go too bad. M. Dupas was really friendly, he didn’t laugh at me, and he didn’t revert to English. I felt pretty good. In the end, he gave me his email address so we could exchange emails and he could send me more details. He had to spell his name twice and tried to make it easy on me. ” ‘P’ comme ‘Pivert’, ‘L’ comme ‘Livarot’….” Meanwhile, I’m thinking, “What the hell does pivert and livarot mean?!” He was using words I didn’t know, and I had to chuckle at how stupid I felt. ”Pivert” is a type of green woodpecker and “Livarot” is some type of cheese. OK, so those might not have been the words he used… I can’t remember what words he used, honestly, because I didn’t recognize them in the first place. I luckily managed to get the email address down correctly, and he emailed me right back as friendly as could be.
The place sounds fine. It’s literally a 4 minute walk from one of my high schools (about 5 miles from the other one, but that’s still close). It’s 300 euros/month (about $425) and all bills are included except internet. The only thing that strikes me as strange is that the rooms belong to the Protestant Temple of Nantes. I don’t know how I feel about living in a church. Of course, it would be convenient and reasonably priced. Hopefully I’d get a good deal back from the CAF also (the CAF is government subsidies for rent to low-waged employees). I’m still looking at another option, but will have to make a choice soon.
I asked a French friend about it and whether or not it was normal for students to live in churches. We were speaking in French, and this is how it went (in French first in case you speak it):
Charlotte: Peut-être que c’est un convent
Me: Un convent? Avec des nains?
Charlotte: LLLLLLOOOOOOLLLLLL
Me: Quoiii??
Charlotte: Pas “nains,” c’est “bonne soeurs!”
If you didn’t get that, my friend suggested that it might be a convent. I asked “a convent? with nuns?” At least, I thought I said that. I actually asked, “with dwarves?” Whoops.
If you don’t get the title, it’s kind of from a song. Every time I see his name (Monsieur Dupas), it reminds me of a song by the Dining Rooms (M. Dupont). Very strange video, but good song:
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