The Joy of ZEP

It's been a real learning experience for me, working this last month and a half in a collège in a "ZEP" or "Zone d'Education Prioritaire". Don't get me wrong, I like working with kids, even the ones who have problems or who aren't at all interested in my subject, English. The momentary obstacle of dealing with exotic names faded into the background quickly enough, but the very real problem of maintaining a sufficient level of discipline to get a smidgen of work done remains.
It seems counterproductive, in a language class, to be constantly calling for "quiet". After all, if they don't talk, how can they be expected to communicate?But some of these little angels are so hyperactive that I can't even hear myself think. I'm sure Dickens or Thackary would portray a teacher in my predicament in some suitably humorous way, but I'm very rarely laughing at it all.
How to maintain interest and plough into new pastures of syntax and vocabulary while Jawed is spilling Moustapha's pencil case onto the floor and N'mahawa is shrieking with laughter? All the good intentions in the world, wanting to help the disadvantaged youths get on with their education and all, all that doesn't help a bit if a certain critical mass of attentiveness can't be reached.
Yeah, you're right, guess I'm just moaning. Some days it works, and some days the mayonnaise goes off before I've even begun mixing it. Any suggestions (short of cliff-jumping) are welcome.

Cheers, --- Phil

Cepes and blood sport

Autumn is a great time of year in the Brenne, especially this year, with infrequent rain and a lot of warm weather. Perfect weather, in fact, to bring up mountains of that most delicate of mushrooms, the cèpe. Now, I'm no expert, and I know some people will pine for pied bleus, tout their truffles or moon over morilles, but the cèpes here are just fabulous. It's easier to find them right now in the forest of the Brenne than on a supermarket shelf. In ten minutes my basket was full, and I was back off home to fry them up into a delicious side for steak, sanglier or cajun chicken, or to stir them into a hefty omelette.

I've never dared go mushroom hunting before, simply because I was never one hundred percent sure what I'd find. There are so many nasty varieties that can get you sick or worse, and I just didn't dare put my life on the line simply for cuisine. But last week I was out on the chasse, and suddenly realized they were everywhere! Maurice and Jean-Pierre pointed out the two varieties of cèpes that they liked picking, and I decided to throw caution to the wind and have a go. Once the hunt was over, we'd all got our horses tidied up, and we'd finished with the post-chasse drinking, I strolled back through some of the choice spots and picked my way to a delicious dinner.

I suppose I should say a few words about the hunt before hanging up my keyboard and heading back to class. For me, it's a fantastic way to get out into the woods and enjoy the great outdoors. I've begun looking at things differently, now that I'm scanning the trails and scrub for any sign of the elusive chevreuil, or roe deer. Some may think it's cruel, but more often than not the tricky chevreuil gives us the slip, as it did last Saturday, and we ended up calling off the hunt around five-ish and headed back to the clubhouse for a few glasses of rouge. Cruel? Perhaps, though no guns are involved. It just takes me back to another era, and gives a real reason to be riding around on horseback. Great stuff.

Cheers, --- Phil