Despite only being an au pair for three
days, they have been so many amusing incidences that it seems silly not to
start some sort of blog of my time here. The likelihood of me forgetting
everything that happened is also high so at least this way no ‘hilarious’
stories will be forgotten.
The four year old just came over and
deleted that paragraph – not so amusing for me right now - apparently I should
be watching him play the Wii and not typing on my laptop.
This blog will however chronicle the seven
weeks I am spending as an au pair in the south of France near Avignon in Aix En
Provence. Here I am living in the countryside with fruit farmers (unfortunately
in my Scottish accent I often announce to people they are foot farmers) but can
now verify it is definitely fruit as I have already eaten most of it. I am here
looking after their four children: a four year old boy, a nine year old girl,
an eleven year old boy, and a thirteen year old girl. But before you gasp the
couple have both been married before therefore the three eldest children spend
half their time with their other parents leaving only the four year old with me
all the time. The fact I have never really looked after children before and
only speak basic French will add to the excitement of this blog!
So here goes in easy to read vignette form,
my first few days here:
Day 1: 10th July 2012
As per usual, my attempts to find the
cheapest mode of transport to get anyway (sadly for me walking nor cycling were
not particularly feasible), involved a pretty horrific day of travel. Despite
the fact I was only going to the south of France, I managed to find a route
that took twelve hours to complete. Firstly I had to arrive at the airport in
Newcastle lovely and early on the morning after my graduation for a flight to
Nice (no last treble vodkas for me the night before). At the airport I
proceeded to add a few more grey hair to my mother’s head by having such a
heavy suitcase that I had to repack it three times at the checkout desk (despite
BBC weather telling me the weather would be lovely I find it hard to trust its
unreliable meteorology so packed raincoats, jumpers, and waterproof shoes just
in case). Inevitably out of all the clothes I brought I will wear the same
T-Shirt and shorts every day.
After arriving in Nice the next part of my
journey involved a nice wee trip along the sea front on a bus to the train
station there to catch a train to Avignon where the family would meet me. My
dis-trust in Easyjet flight scheduling led me to book a train that involved
sitting in Nice train station for three hours but at least I wouldn’t miss it.
It also meant I had time to eat my way through a few French baguettes and laugh
at French people and English tourists. It was worth the wait though as I got to
ride on a French TGV Duplex on the top floor! I had also had time to buy a copy
of Elle D’Ete (the French summer version of Elle); partly to practice my French
and also so I would look chic and French and no one would know I was a
foreigner. Cunning I know.
Before I knew it I was meeting my French
family at Avignon train station. The moment of truth when I would discover if
they were either axe murderers or non-existent. Fortunately they were waiting
and despite clutching my French Elle I looked British enough they recognized me
straight away!
So there I was off to be an au pair!
Clearly someone somewhere does like me as
the family turned out to be absolutely lovely – as welcoming and friendly as
they could possibly be. The four year old is extremely cute and fun to be with.
He is also small enough to be picked up (I like picking up children apparently)
and comes complete with a very endearing French accent. Although the Dad and
four year old do not speak any French, it turns out my French audio CDs did work
slightly so we can just about understand one another with lots of pointing.
There are of course a few issues – to me the words vent (for wind) and vin (for
wine) sound exactly the same so when they were asking me if it was windy I was
replying by saying I would prefer a beer. This was after being in the house for
about ten minutes so they most likely thought they were welcoming a Scottish
alcoholic into the house, especially when I appeared downstairs with my present
for them of a bottle of whisky. I have further done Scotland dis-service
through my descriptions of Scottish food (bear in mind I have limited French
especially when it comes to explaining the intricacies of haggis and other
delicacies). Therefore basically they think in Scotland we eat lots of Italian
food, lots of potatoes, and lots of ‘mince’ (they don’t know what mince is
though). Scotland should be proud of me I reckon.
Day 2: 11th July 2012
My first full day started with me looking
after the four year old in the morning while the parents went out to work. This
was a very trusting move in my opinion as although they had met me the night
before I did still have the potential for ax murderer status. Those who know me
will already know that I have very limited experience looking after children.
My two main experiences have been baby sitting for the siblings of a friend of
my brother – who declared me boring - and dropping a baby in Bangladesh. And I
must confess my first morning with the four year old was not without incidence
– while playing Wii golf I may have accidently whacked him over the head with
the Wii controller during a particularly vigorous swing.
HOWEVER
He was absolutely fine and luckily he is
quite clumsy so is used to falling and doesn’t ever cry. Basically he can fall
over reasonably badly and just gets back up and says ‘ca va’. So the ideal
child for me then, just maybe not for social services. On a serious note though
he is an absolutely lovely wee boy, not perfectly behaved but then what four
year olds are. He is also extremely amusing to be with, although he does love
Thomas the Tank Engine, he also loves the music channels on TV – particularly R
n B music. Watching a four year old dance and sing along to Chris Brown is one
of the most amusing ways to pass a morning. He is now also my favourite four
year old as when I sang along to the music too, I was instantly told by him to
‘ne chantez pas’. You don’t need to know much French to understand I was told
to stop singing by a child who barely knows me.
The rest of the day was spent making our
way through the epic toy collection he possesses, while I realized that toys
were the biggest secret children keep from us. For instance Playdo is amazing.
Why there is not an adult version I do not know – you can play a dentist game
with it and he has a pizzeria game also! The opportunities are endless!
After the Wii incident I am still slightly
reluctant to use it again but it is a brilliant way to occupy a four year old I
have found, as is the TV. A personal favourite programme on French childrens’
television is ‘Sam le pompier’! However the most amusing thing that occupies
the four year old’s time is what I will call: ‘French child Jackass’. Basically
there are tons of videos of toy train sets (in particular those of Thomas the
Tank Engine) crashing on youtube which the four year old loves. It is similar
to older boys watching police chases or Jackass but for small children! As for
obvious reasons I am not putting photos of the children here. This is a link to
what he watches.
Get a kick out of this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5qUVqQAJyY
Four year olds these days eh.
Day 3: 12th July 2012
Another morning was spent in the house with
the four year old where my French is slowly progressing. I am slightly worried
about the fact I am learning French from a four year old but he is very good at
correcting my pronunciation. And the best thing is that I am spending most of
my time pointing at things and saying ‘qu’est que c’est?’ to which he gives me
the French word and is yet to get too bored - a clear advantage of learning
French from a four year old. Yet on the other hand most of my French is from
someone who can’t read and repeated viewings of ‘Sam le pompier’.
The mum also took me for a drive in the car
on the RIGHT side of the road. This was pretty trusting of her in my opinion as
she let the four year old sit in the back (he slept the whole way so my jolty
gear changes are clearly not so bad). The main problem is that she drives this
massive SUV type thing which compared to my tres petit Suzuki swift is
something of a shock. Cyclists on my right hand side should be terrified, as
should the owners of any cars I choose to park near to. Look out for a big
white car with terrified children in the back.
The weird food I eat was further confirmed
to the mum when she brought out some pureed apple pots for the children. I
instantly grabbed one declaring how much I love it to her amusement. Those who
know me will know that my favourite thing about France (no joke) is the pureed
apple pots you can get here which are basically mashed up fruit with sugar. But
honestly are like heaven on earth and completely unique to France really.
Unless of course you are willing to pay lots of money to buy a poorer version
in organic food shops in the UK.
This event has however confirmed my worst
fears that they are a food product meant for children.
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