Doomsday

Well, I did survive my meeting yesterday. Unfortunately, I did not escape totally unscathed.

The morning started out with a 7 am wake up call, which I was none too pleased out to begin with. I made my coffee, left at 7:45, and quickly realized that a 9 am call time also means that I'll have to compete with the rest of humanity to be on time, who are also all trying to be somewhere by 9 am. The night before I had mapped out my route and found the bus stops and lines I could take to get to the office. When I arrived at 8:40, none of those options were there. I did find one bus that would have taken me straight there, but the last one left at 8:42 (when I was frantically searching for other buses), and another one wouldn't arrive until noonish. So I ran around in circles for a while, then spotted an ATM and a taxi line. So I did. I took a 7 euro cab ride. I ended up being 10 minutes late, but obviously at this point, anything less than five minutes early was unacceptable. They said I should have, "anticipated," which is dumb, because clearly I did. And then they said there was a walking path to get there, but how could I have known that?
Anyway, the meeting started off with some random paperwork she claimed she had received a month ago and it shouldn't have taken this long for me to sign it. Except she just asked me to come in last week. Whatever. Next she asked for my "justicatif" for having missed work when I was sick. I had twice sent in letters explaining but apparently I had the wrong address or something. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, because apparently I need a doctor's note. Is that a joke? I've seen a doctor twice for illness. Once for a raging ear infection and the other when I all but stopped breathing twice in one day. I wouldn't waste my time for a cold or even the flu. So I filled out some paperwork and apparently that was done.
Next came the crap. Apparently some of the teachers for principals from my school have mentioned something about me to the inspection. They didn't really elaborate on whether it was my teaching style, my personality, my lesson planning -- I don't know. But I was totally crushed. Apparently there is some sort of problem and no one has told me until now. The inspector said that it's not really the principal's place to give me constructive criticism, and it's even less acceptable for the teachers to do so. Well fuck you and your bureaucracy. Nothing is ever anyone's job here, it's always someone else's problem. If you don't understand the system, no one will explain it to you or be sensitive to the fact that there's no way you could have known. I understand that the French culture is very high context and everyone just knows what is expected of them and what to do, but there is no contingency for someone who doesn't fit that mold. I mean it's not like I'm a retard -- but if you're going to hire native speakers of a language, you have to recognize that they also have a native culture that isn't as hush-hush and undiscussed as yours.
Needless to say, I spent a good part of the meeting in tears. I really hope they don't think I was trying for sympathy, because I really wasn't. I'd been on the verge of tears since my outburst at work on Thursday. So I sat there, I cried, I apologized, I told them that I had no idea there was a problem and that there was no way I could have known. Somewhere along the line we ended up drinking tea and talking about roller coasters and places in France I should visit. So I don't know. They offered to come observe me again in class and give suggestions, but last time not a whole lot happened either. It's like, you can say, "do this, do that," but there are no tools for me to do it. Plus I've only got six weeks left and I feel totally betrayed, so I barely want to put forth the effort. We'll see how it goes. I have two weeks off to regroup, re-evaluate how I feel about all of this. Regardless I'm writing a letter to the inspection, in English, which I will send after my contract ends. I just want them to know that so much of this can be avoided if they just get organized and come up with a real system for assistants, instead of just throwing them into these schools and saying "teach." They say over and over again that they realize I'm not a teacher, but even teachers get teaching materials.
Anyway, afterwards I hiked up the hill to the RER station. When I got home there was a note on my mailbox from my neighbor, saying I needed to go to the post office immediately. How they even managed to contact her and not me, I don't know. Anyway, I showed up with the note and went to the guichet. The bitch there said I needed to be more specific, to tell her whether it was concerning something with the bank or a package or whatever. I told her I had been waiting for a package, and I could give her my name and address so she could search. Instead she dropped me off in the financial services office and made that woman go search for my package, which isn't her job. Luckily she did it anyway. I just kept saying, "here's my name, here's my address, does that tell you anything?" Ugh. Bureaucracy. Nothing is their job. If I had been at home, they would have immediately asked for my name and address, at the front desk, and searched for the package. I understand you have to ask three times for EVERYTHING in France, but quite frankly I'm getting a little exasperated. There used to be a feeling of triumph after having système D'd it like a champ, but now I just feel frustrated from wasting time and energy. In any case, I have my boots now.
Unfortunately, I still have this overwhelming feeling of dread. School is under control, I don't have to work for two weeks, I am a free bird until Tuesday afternoon. But still, I feel like shit. So in an attempt to regain my confidence, I'm going to be productive. I'm going to clean my apartment, do my homework, finish reading a couple books. I'm going to take maximum advantage of this break so I can put my head down and get through the last six weeks of work.