2016, so far

2016 is a big year of change. I’m feeling excited and anxious about the big move to California, and sad to leave Lyon and see most of my expat friends scatter all over the world as we all move on to the next chapters of our lives.

Recently, Hugo and I got a little taste of California life – one of my oldest, dearest friends got married this May and we flew to California for the occasion. She had a beautiful outdoor country wedding that belongs on Pinterest – vintage family dress, DIY centerpieces and bouquets, maid-of-honor hairdresser (that was me! So much pressure!) Her husband is an awesome dude. He cooked all the food. For 150 people. I repeat, he cooked all the food for his own wedding. And made the cake. (He is a good cook!)

So we spent a lot of time out in the countryside – way out in the countryside. I kept an eye out for rattlesnakes, like the paranoid city girl I am. (Did you know they coil up like that to spring at you?! And that they can spring really far?!) We also hung out with my parents, did some shopping, and toured some nearby town like Pacific Grove and San Juan Bautista. We made a trip up to San Francisco, where we wandered around gaping at the gorgeous Victorian houses. It was a speedy trip but I tried to throw in some fun new places that Hugo hadn’t been before (you know, like Target).

Other fun vacation stuff: my mother taught him the words “curmudgeon” and “kerfuffle.” (You can see where I get my love for funny words.)

And now we’re back in France and I’m planning my travel for this summer! (Trip to Rome, Florence, and Bologna in the works, and Lisbon a bit later. And I’d like to squeeze in some shorter trips if I can swing it. Major European travel FOMO here. Suggestions welcome!)

Classes are out, exams are graded, and there’s still a bit more work to be done but it’s quasi-vacation in that I don’t have to go to work every day or plan lessons or grade exams. Which is weird, because this semester (the whole school year, really) was so busy and intense. I kept trying to enjoy my last days of teaching, but I was constantly stressed from being in the hamster wheel. But I had some lovely students this year, and I certainly learned a lot. (I hope that having been a teacher will make me a better student. When I was in undergrad I was very passive and afraid to participate or ask questions, and I would have learned so much more if I had been more active in class. And from my perspective as a teacher, class is so much more interesting when students ask questions.)

Before the wedding, I squeezed in a trip to Paris to see another close friend, aka my partner in crime. We strolled the Marais and Place des Vosges, walked the Coulée Verte, and climbed the fence of the Petite Ceinture, an abandoned railroad that circles the city (but that’s another story). I also got to see a dress rehearsal of Der Rosenkavalier at the Opera Bastille, which was so cool! I loved getting to see behind the scenes, and I remembered how much I love Strauss.

(Speaking of music, I must take the time to tell you about Arts Alliance soon – they’re an awesome organization that makes London opera, dance, music, theater, and art available all around the world. They are killing it on their YouTube channel.)

I don’t write about Paris much since everyone else already has, but I may round up some of my Paris favorites at some point since I do love exploring the city. Anything you want to know? I’ll be back in Paris before the summer’s out, so if there’s anything cool you think I should check out (or eat) while I’m there, let me know!

Going to Paris really kicked off a new season for me – I was mostly chained to work for the first four months of the year and I didn’t travel at all. There is always more work to be done, whether it’s prepping lessons or writing exams or grading them, so taking a weekend trip would be more stressful than anything. Thank goodness for the supportive group of lectrices at work!

I didn’t even leave Lyon during the week-long vacation in February – Hugo’s sister was expecting her second baby and I wanted to be here when he (as it turned out) arrived. It was so worth it to be here for that important day. Hugo and I got to tell her two-year-old that he was a big brother, since the baby came during the night. I’m really going to miss getting to see those little guys and their cousins grow up while we’re in California. It’s one of the hardest things about leaving, because unlike everything else, they will change so fast, and we’ll never get that time back. Will they even remember us? (I’m an only child, so no nieces and nephews on my side.)

I don’t believe that fear of change is a reason to avoid it. I’m not afraid of something new and unknown, but I’m a little heartbroken that I have to let go of so much in order to move forward in my life. I wish I could have it both ways, but as they say in French, you can’t have the butter and the money for the butter (which makes more sense than “you can’t have your cake and eat it too” because you don’t exactly part with the cake when you eat it, whereas you must part with your money to buy butter. Unless you are a butter thief, I suppose. Butter thief, teach me your ways!)

I’m terribly sad to be uprooted from the life I’ve built in Lyon, but I am looking forward to building new roots in a new chapter of life. I’ll let you know how it goes.

All I know is that 2016 has been hurtling along at an alarming pace, and I don’t anticipate that it will slow down any time soon. All aboard the TGV of life!

 

 

 

 

Spring, Life, and Tacos

March is the worst month. It’s the tail end of winter and everyone is dying for spring to arrive, and for me, it’s the middle of the semester when all my students take their midterms at the same time, which means I have to write all the tests and then correct about 400 exams in the span of a few weeks, on top of my normal workload. It’s a little like running on a treadmill in high heels.

I’m so relieved that it’s April – spring has definitely arrived, the semester is almost over, and I’m starting to ponder where to travel this summer. (I’m thinking Italy and Portugal, but I’m also tempted by Croatia, Spain, Budapest, Berlin… so many adventures, so little time. Where are your favorite places in Europe?) Even though traveling in France doesn’t always feel as exciting as going to a new country, I’d still love to spend some time down south, and maybe over on the west coast of the country where I’ve barely been at all, and there will definitely be a trip to Paris where I have big plans to Eat Stuff.

Speaking of Big Plans, I’m heading west in the fall – really far west. We’re moving to California!

Continue reading “Spring, Life, and Tacos”

Queen of Quiche

I don’t make too many embarrassing mistakes in French anymore. (I still feel like it’s a battle to be taken seriously as a foreigner in France, but that’s a separate issue.) But here’s one that still cracks me up a little when I think about it.

Last year, I lived with some lovely French girls while Hugo was in England, and one evening, another lovely French girl came over for dinner. We all helped whip up this and that in our cramped, hallway-shaped kitchen, and our visitor prepared a delicious quiche. She even made the crust and everything, instead of using the pre-made pâte feuilletée that I roll out every time. Without thinking, I proclaimed her the “reine des quiches” with much American enthusiasm.

She looked startled. It seems like a compliment to say that someone is the queen of quiche, but the problem is that calling a person a quiche in French is an insult – I basically called her “Queen of the idiots”! And I knew that, but I had just forgotten for a second in my excitement over the delicious quiche!

Luckily, she understood I meant no harm and gently reminded me of the alternate meaning of “une quiche.” Whoops. I felt like a total quiche myself!

Accidental insults aside, I do love quiche. As long as there’s no goat cheese hiding in it. My favorite quiches to make are leek, onion, and lardon quiche, and this bacon and spinach quiche. Yum yum yum. What’s your favorite quiche recipe?

 

Blatant racism in France

I can’t not write about this.

I went to the market yesterday morning. Marché Saint Antoine, down by the Saône river. Some young men were handing out pamplets. I took one automatically. It was propaganda against Islamic immigration. I threw it out. It took me a minute to process. Had I misunderstood? Was this seriously racist propaganda in the middle of the Sunday market?

I turned around and studied the group handing out the fliers. They were all white young men, not a terribly attractive bunch (not that it matters). I sat and watched them for awhile. Most people refused their pamplets, or trashed them when they realized what they were. An older woman wearing a hijab passed by. They didn’t offer her a pamplet, and she didn’t look at them.

I couldn’t believe that no one was saying anything to these bigots, telling them they should be ashamed, but on the other hand, it’s pretty common to distribute fliers about all sorts of things, and you had to actually take one and read it to get a whiff of what these dudes were all about. They weren’t chanting “White power” or anything. One man said to them, “I don’t agree with you, I support immigration,” as he refused their pamplets. Everyone else just ignored them. At least no one seemed to be on their side. People seemed disgusted, but didn’t call them out.

I snapped their picture from afar. Why shouldn’t I? They had a racism stand right in the middle of the market. One of them saw me and got very nervous. He went around to his cohorts, whispering and pointing at me. I ignored them and remained seated outside the market – I hadn’t done anything wrong.

After awhile, one of them walked toward me without making eye contact. He shoved his phone in my face, took my picture, and then walked away quickly. It happened so fast that I wasn’t even sure which of these pimply white dudes had taken my photo. Who does that?! (Immature racist losers, I guess?) I know I had taken a photo first, but from quite a distance – I didn’t shove my phone in anyone’s face! If they had a problem, the appropriate reaction would have been to say, “We’d prefer not to be photographed, would you mind deleting your photo?” not to sneak attack me with a close-up! Super creepy.

I walked over to their ringleader.

“Hello, are you the guy who just took my photo?” I asked him.

He acted like he didn’t know what I was talking about. “Was it you?” I asked the man-child with the camera around his neck standing a few feet away. He ignored me.

I probably should have stayed calm, but instead I said what I had been wanting to say to these jackasses.

“Aren’t you ashamed?” I asked the first man. “Aren’t you ashamed of being so racist?”

“No, I’m not ashamed,” he said, a little defensively. “Immigrants are ruining France and must be stopped.”

“I’m a foreigner,” I said. “Are you against me too, or am I okay because I’m white?”

“No, it’s the Muslims. You know that most of them are in prison, don’t you? They are criminals.”

“How can you say that an entire population of millions of people are all criminals? You should be ashamed.”

“Don’t you care about the women in Cologne? Hundreds of women were attacked by Arab immigrants. That’s what happens when you let in refugees. Multicultural society doesn’t work, you have to admit it. If we don’t do something, we’ll end up like Lebanon.”

I was in such a rage that I was shaking. I could yell at this man all I wanted, but it wouldn’t rattle his bigotry.

“Aren’t you listening to me? Listen to what I’m saying,” he insisted, condescendingly. His teeth were crooked and discolored. Maybe he had eschewed braces and taken up chain smoking in high school in an attempt to be cool, but grew up to be human scum with hideous teeth.

“You can’t- ah! gah!” I choked on my frustration. “You can’t blame all Muslims for the crimes of a few people! What about French-born Muslims? You know that they’re as much French as you are, don’t you?”

He continued to insist that multicultural society is dangerous. These xenophobic assholes were openly calling for a pure white France. What. The. Fuck.

I couldn’t take it anymore. “You are a disgrace and you should all be ashamed,” I said before walking off.

“Bonne journée!!” the slimeballs called after me. Infuriating.

It would have been better to stay calm, but I couldn’t. I’m still glad I told them what I thought, even though they were apparently unfazed. I wish I had kept one of their pamplets of bigotry so I could show you the awful things they were purporting. It really got to me – the whole scene circled round and round my mind, and I obsessed on everything I wished I had said for the rest of the day. I wanted to get the last word against these smug bastards, for them to suffer somehow, and it more than irked me to know that they would carry on, unpunished and self-satisfied.

But you know what made me feel a little better? A delicious falafal lunch at the Lebanese restaurant Les Delices du Liban.

Seriously, how good is falafel?

 

 

 

How to live and work in France

Note: I recently blogged about the visas and jobs that have allowed me to live in France over the last 3+ years. This post is about all the different long-stay working visas for France that I know of, because I’ve received quite a few inquiries on this topic. My previous post doesn’t discuss most of these options, since they don’t apply to me personally. There certainly may be other ways to legally live and work in France that I do not know about. This list is based on my personal experience and research. Some of you may know more than I do about some of these visas, so please feel free to jump in with information, corrections, and links to posts you’ve written in the comments!

People contact me often with questions about teaching English in France. Some find me through my blog, some find me through the International TEFL Academy alumni group. I am totally happy for people to reach out to me with questions. I had so many questions before I came here, and I’m still grateful for the supportive expat community.

But when I looked back on the questions I received last year, I realized that almost no one had taken the time to say thank you for the long and detailed messages I wrote. That was a little discouraging. So I’m writing this to make everything I know accessible in one place. If you’ve read this and done your research and you still have questions, I would love to hear from you and I’m happy to take the time to answer your questions, share resources, and tell you about my experience teaching in France.

If you have questions about teaching English in France, I’ve written lots of stuff about it here including how I got my jobs and my visas. Right now I’m going to focus specifically on ways to get a long-stay visa that allows you to work in France.

(And I’ve included a ton of additional resources, because I am not the first person to write about French bureaucracy.)

I am an American citizen, so I know the most about visas for Americans. If you are from Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and some other countries, you may be able to obtain a working holiday visa. (Sorry, Americans! No working holiday visa in France for us.) Check with your local French consulate.

Actually, that’s just a good idea in general. Go to your local French consulate’s website and read about visas. They have a lot of information. (I’ve gotten visas in Chicago and San Francisco.)

Okay, let’s go. Here are all the ways I know to live and work legally in France.

Have an EU passport

If you have an EU passport, get out of here! You already have the right to work legally in France. Even if you are not European, sometimes European heritage can get you dual nationality. So if you parents or grandparents immigrated in the last century, check out the rules of the country they came from. (Start at the country’s consulate website.) You’ll probably need a lot of birth, death, and marriage certificates.

Marry a French citizen

Boom, a French spouse gets you a vie privée et familliale visa, which gives you the right to live and work in France. You have to renew it every year for three years (right, people with French spouses?) and then you can get a ten year visa. During that time, you can probably apply for French nationality too.

PACS with a French citizen

PACSing often gives you a vie privée et familiale visa if you have proof of cohabitation and already live in France, although it’s not as ironclad as marriage. (PACS is a civil union.) You usually need to have proof of at least year of cohabitation in France in order to get a resident’s permit as a pacsé(e). Emily wrote a great post on this here.

Student Visa

A student visa gives you the right to work about 20 hours/week. You must be enrolled as a full-time student. (If you want to live in Paris, Studying at the Sorbonne by Where Is Bryan? is great.)

If you want to live in France long-term, getting a degree from a French university opens a lot of doors in terms of legal status and employment (plus, it’s cheap!)

TAPIF language assistant program

This program will place you in a school (or two or three), hopefully in one of the regions you requested. It gives you the right to a travailleur temporaire visa. I’ve written about the program here.

Lecteur/Lectrice visa

This is a university teaching position for foreigners that allows you to have a one-year visa (renewable one time at the school’s discretion. You cannot be a lecteur/lectrice at another university – two years total as a lecteur/lectrice is the legal limit.) Your status may be travailleur temporaire or salarié, depending on how the préfecture is feeling. I’ve blogged about being a lectrice here.

Franco-American Chamber of Commerce Young Professionals Trainee Visa

This visa is for Americans who have a four-year degree and are under 35. You must first obtain a work contract that meets the requirements, and then they will provide you with a visa for up to 18 months. More information here. (P.S. I’ve never actually met anyone on this visa, so if you’ve done it, do tell.)

Au Pair Visa

If you get a job as an au pair, you will be allowed to live in France. The visa requires you to take French language classes part time. The pay is usually low, but your living expenses will be taken care of. (Read How To Become An Au Pair from Ashley, who was an au pair in France.)

Research Scientist

I know nothing about this visa because I am the opposite of a research scientist (unless methodically tasting pastries counts as research) but I know that it is a thing. I think you would be a “chercheur scientifique.” Check with your consulate.

Compétances et Talents Visa

If you have a long-term project (usually something in the arts, hence “talents“) that will somehow benefit France, you may be able to get a three-year visa. Check with your consulate for requirements. More from Jennyphoria.

Work visa sponsored by employer

This is very rare for English teachers, but never say never. Your employer can sponsor your visa but most will not because it is expensive and complicated for them, and they have to justify why they chose not to hire a French person. The request can be denied if the government feels they should not hire a foreigner. There are many ways for companies to hire native English speakers without this hassle – there are many E.U. nationals and anglophones with long-stay working visas. Most English teaching jobs specify that you must have working papers to apply. If you are an in-demand specialist (think more software engineer, less English teacher), this one may work for you!

Note that when I say “English teacher,” I am mainly referring to people with a TEFL certificate or a year or two of experience as a language assistant, since the majority of anglophones who come to France to teach English for a short period of time fall into this category. If you are a certified teacher with classroom experience, you may be able to get a job teaching at a private or international school. Dana has written a great post about how she got her job at an international school here.

Alternatively, your existing employer in your home country could send you overseas to work temporarily or long-term. (If you’re married, your spouse will probably not be able to work in France, depending on the type of visa they’re eligible for, but they can come and hang out with you.)

———-

Please note that I am not a lawyer or immigration specialist, and you should not consider any of this legal advice. I have simply been in France for several years and have read a lot about visas. I have personal experience with a few of the visas I mentioned. You can read more about my experiences with French bureaucracy here.

Additional Resources

San Francisco French Consulate: Long-Stay Visas

Getting A Visa: France Diplomatie

Transient Local: Working Abroad in France

As Told By Dana: Teaching English in France

Almost Bilingue on French Administration

Prêt à Voyager: French Bureaucracy, Explained (Also try {Un}glamourous Paris: Bureaucracy)

Chez Loulou on Moving to France, French Citizenship, and the Cost of Living in France

Where Is Bryan? The Cost of French Nationality

Lil & Destinations on getting PACSed in France (and the cost of living in Paris).

The Paris Blog: Snagging an Artist’s Visa to Stay In France

Je Parle Américain: The Anatomy of a Visa Renewal

Oh Happy Day on getting Long-Stay Tourist Visas as Freelancers

Franco-American grants and exchanges

Anything I missed? Please share a link or a story about your experience. When it comes to French bureaucracy, we all have to stick together!

FAQ: Back Home Edition

Do you ever feel like you could write your own FAQ list at the end of the holiday season? Or after any gathering with your extended family or your mom’s friends? Everyone always asks the same #$%^& questions over and over again. After awhile, you want to make like Tom Wilson (Biff Tanner in Back to the Future) and print out at FAQ card.

No, but I don’t mind, though. I’m not a total bitch. It’s normal for people you see once a year to ask what you plan to do after you finish your degree instead of your favorite Girl Scout cookie (it’s samosas, with thin mints as a close runner up, in case you were wondering). And actually, it’s good because it forces me to reflect on some of the heavier questions (“What are your plans for the future?”) and by January I’ve had so much practice that I have quippy answers at the ready. (Thankfully, I don’t have to field annoying questions like “Why aren’t you married yet?” or “What are you going to do with that major?”)

I spent the holidays in California where I grew up (I’m still jet-lagged!) and visited with as many cousins, family friends, and friendly neighbors as possible, and it was awesome! I was happy to see everyone, no one in my family is less than a delight. (…and they might be reading this.) If you asked me one of the following questions, I don’t begrudge you one bit. These are totally questions I would ask too. In fact, I thought that since almost half of the visitors to my blog come from the U.S. I’d write a little post on the questions I was asked the most during my trip home. (Also, it’s just kind of fun for me, which is the only reason I blog about anything in the first place.)

What do you miss most about the US when you’re over there?

Tacos. All my favorite stuff from Trader Joe’s. The Pacific ocean. DSW, 70% off sales, free shipping and generous return policies. Whole Foods sandwiches. No one making fun of my accent or nationality. Being able to go any branch of my bank I want, even on Mondays.

Are you fluent in French?

Yes siree. But I’m always learning new things!

Is your boyfriend French?

He sure is. His name is Hugo. He’s pretty awesome. (But not because he’s French. Just because he’s himself.)

Do you and Hugo speak French or English?

Usually French. He speaks great English but it’s not thanks to me! On the other hand, he has helped me enormously with my French. He is super patient with my endless questions.

What are you doing after your contract is up? Will you come back to California?

Good question! Maybe! Are you hiring?

Where do you live in France again?

I live in Lyon, the second or third largest city (with Marseille) depending on who you ask. I lived in Paris when I first came to France , but I moved to Lyon a few years ago.

So… where is Lyon, exactly?

It’s in the Rhône-Alpes region a few hours south-east of Paris (2 hours by TGV, 4-5 by car). It’s a couple hours from Geneva, and a 2-3 hour train ride from the Mediterranean.

Capture d’écran 2016-01-13 à 00.20.18

How has France changed since the November 13th attacks in Paris?

In Lyon, we see the military patrolling the streets of the city, and there is additional security in large buildings and the metro. There has already been at least one bomb scare, which resulted in a lot of public transport being shut down. (It was not an attempted attack as far as I know.) There were tributes to the victims in the main city squares where people left flowers and candles and notes. People from other countries left words in many languages stating their support for France. The Fête des Lumières, a major festival in Lyon, was cancelled, and replaced with candles and lights around the city on December 8th in homage to the victims.

Life goes on, but it was alarming to have an attack so violent so close to home, and there are daily reminders of the tragedy.

What do you like most about living in France?

Everything at the boulangerie! Lots of vacation! Going to the market! The train! Affordable healthcare! Actually, I really like meeting people from all over the world. I love going to a party and hearing a mix of three or four different languages floating around the room. I guess you can do that in the U.S. too, but I suppose I meet more foreigners here because I am one.

Oh, and I forgot the most important one – wine!

 

What were your FAQs this holiday season?

 

How to get a visa and teach English in France

It’s hard to believe that it’s already been three and a half years. In July 2012, I was working on my TEFL certificate in Chicago. By the end of August, I was living in Paris.

Now I live in Lyon and I’m in my fourth year of teaching English in France. Here’s how I found work and got my visas.

Year 1

Private language schools in Paris

My visa: I had a six-month student visa through a study abroad program. When I got it, six months seemed long, but they went by fast. You need to be enrolled in school full-time to get a student visa, which allows you to work about 20 hours a week. Public universities are inexpensive (a few hundred euros per year). You can also study at a language school. You can find more information on how to get a student visa via your regional French consulate.

My jobs: I was hired by a private language school soon after arriving in Paris. I had emailed my CV and was called in for an interview. Schools often recruit in September because everyone comes back from vacation for la rentrée – back to school, back to work. I worked 15-20 hours a week for the first three months, and then the school gave me fewer and fewer hours because they did not have enough new students. I had to find another job, but I only had a few months left on my visa, so most schools refused to even interview me. “Call us when you sort out your visa,” they said.

Finally, a language school for kids hired me to teach groups of children ages 3-10. I responded to their job posting online and then interviewed in person. I worked for them 10 hours a week until my visa expired, and then I worked for a wealthy bilingual family under the table on a “tourist visa” for a few months. I made more working for them than with language schools, even though I only worked two weeks a month. (I found their job posting at the American Chuch in Paris and sent them an email with my CV.)

The pay: Both language schools paid 18 euros/hour brut (so around 14 euros/hour net before taxes.) The other job paid 15 euros an hour net (with a fixed number of hours per week) and 100 euros/day when traveling.

See Things I Wish I Had Known About Teaching English In France for other helpful information.

Year 2

TAPIF Language Assistant in Lyon

My visa: TAPIF (Teaching Assistant Program In France) is a program for foreigners under 30 that allows you to work legally in France. I had a travailleur temporaire work visa. This visa is usually valid for about 9 months because the assistant contract is 7 months, but the San Francisco consulate did me a solid and gave me a 12 month visa (the maximum length).

My job: I worked 12 hours a week at a lycée in Lyon. I taught groups of 10-15 students ages 14-18. I got the job by applying to the TAPIF program, who placed me in the Rhône-Alpes region of France. The local education administration (the rectorat) gave me my school assignment over the summer. I also worked remotely for an American company as a travel assistant during this time.

The pay: Assistants net about 790 euros/month in metropolitan France (Paris too) for the duration of your contract. You work 12 hours a week (this can be split between several schools in the region.) This includes quite a few weeks of paid vacation (during the vacances scolaires.) Some schools provide low-cost housing on campus.

Years 3 & 4

Lectrice in Lyon

My visa: A lecteur/lectrice work contract allows foreigners to legally work in France for up to two years. (It’s a one year contract that can be renewed once if the school opts to keep you on.) I renewed my visa at the préfecture in Lyon instead of going back to the U.S. (If your visa is still valid and you are not changing status – from worker to student, for example – you can renew it in France.) I’ve blogged all about this process in case you’re interested. This year I had to wait in line for almost nine hours, starting at 3 a.m.! But now you can make appointments online… three months in advance. (Don’t worry, the préfecture is relatively painless in many other cities.) My visa is good for 1 year because that is the length of my lectrice contract.

My job: Lecteurs/lectrices are foreigners who teach at French universities. There is no national program; instead, you apply directly to the university if they have an opening. The job description and the application process vary depending on the school. Many schools will insist that you have a Masters degree, or a year of study towards one. Some schools will accept a TEFL certificate in lieu of this. I got an interview by sending my cover letter and CV to the head of the English department. Hiring season for lecteurs/lectrices is usually March through May, depending on the school.

Last year I taught 11-14 hours a week and this year I’ll teach 20 hours a week (we are compensated for teaching extra hours.) Some of my co-workers juggle another job on top of this. I’ve written all about the perks of being a lectrice here.

As I said, the lecteur/lectrice contract is 12 months long. If your school renews your contract, you can hold the position for a maximum of 2 years. It’s competitive because there are far fewer positions available than there are for assistants. In my opinion, this is the best job to have in France as an American teacher.

The pay: Lecteurs/lectrices earn a salary of around 1500 euros/month brut, or about 1250 net. This is paid for the twelve months of your contract, so it includes a significant amount of paid vacation. (Summer vacation, Christmas vacation, Toussaint vacation, winter vacation, spring vacation… and then some.) The number of hours vary by institution, but around 10-12 per week is normal. Beyond that, you are paid hourly for the extra hours you teach, 40 euros/hour brut. This is usually paid annually or bi-annually.

Note: French salaries are lower than Amerian salaries across the board. It’s really, really normal to earn less than 2,000 euros/month in many industries, especially at the beginning of your career. A lecteur/lectrice salary allows you to live comfortably almost anywhere in France (with the exception of Paris) even though it’s not a ton of money. For example, in Lyon you can live with roommates for around 400 euros/month and by yourself for 500-600 euros/month. Phone plans and public transport are cheaper, you won’t have car payments, and healthcare costs are negligible.

Other ways to work in France

Working Holiday Visa

If you from a country that offers a working holiday visa in France, it’s an excellent way to work in France. Americans cannot obtain a working holiday visa in France.

Franco-American Chamber of Commerce: American Trainees in France

If you are American, you may be able to get your visa sponsored by up to 18 months via the Franco-American Chamber of Commerce. You have to find a job that meets their requirements first, you must have a four-year degree, and you must be under 35. I have never actually met someone on this visa, but I don’t see why it couldn’t be done. More information here.

Freelance lessons and tutoring

Some language assistants and students earn extra money by teaching private students. Many families look for native English speakers to tutor their kids. You can also post an ad in upscale neighborhoods, at schools, or online. People also post up-for-grabs gigs in city-specific Facebook groups (e.g. “English teachers in Lyon”). I don’t recommend that you count on this for your main source of income, but it can be a good way to earn some cash on the side.

Vacataire

Vacataires teach at universities like lecteurs and lectrices do, but they don’t have a monthly salary – they are paid only for the hours they teach (40 euros/hour brut). Like heures supplémentaires for salaried teachers, they are usually paid in chunks once or twice a year. You must have another primary employer, and you cannot get a visa for being a vacataire.

I’ve written a more complete post on how to get a visa here.

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This is meant to be a brief overview of my time working in France. It is based solely on my personal experiences, which may not pertain to everybody. If you would like more information, you are welcome to contact me with questions. You might want to check out the other posts I’ve written about teaching English in France. The most popular ones are Preparing for TAPIF, Things I wish I’d known about teaching English in France, and my favorite lesson plans.

If you’ve written about teaching English in France, feel free to share a link! If you’d like to mention something I missed, I’d love to hear from you. 

2015 Round-up: Where I Went

One of my 2015 resolutions was to travel more. I went to nine countries and sixteen new cities, which is not much if you’re a travel fanatic but is still pretty good if you’re me.

For me, it’s always a battle between traveling, saving money, and just taking the time to enjoy life at home. Sometimes I feel like I should go somewhere, but I wonder if I’d actually be happier strolling the cobblestone streets of Lyon with Hugo and gelato (my other main squeeze), than I would be pinching pennies in Rome, even though the latter makes a more interesting story. So I try to be honest with myself and not travel just for the sake of it, just to say I did, or because I think I ought to. I know I’d be kicking myself if I didn’t travel at all, but I also know that I can’t go everywhere I want to and still save and have stress-free time at home, so the hardest part is deciding where to go, because there are so many interesting places to visit just a short plane ride away. OMG MY LIFE IS SO DIFFICULT!!!!!!!

Kidding, kidding.

Continue reading “2015 Round-up: Where I Went”

6 things to cook for your French friends

I stopped making crêpes in France. In Chicago, they were always a crowd-pleaser. They somehow seem fancy to us, even though they’re just flatter pancakes. Julia Child’s recipe was my go-to.

IMG_3760

But in France, Julia Child isn’t remotely famous, and crêpes are a culinary staple that Frenchies all know how to make when they pop out of the womb. (Hyperbole? No.) This means that everyone has an opinion. You’ve used too much butter, or not enough. Your crêpes are too sweet. Why would you add fleur d’oranger, or rum? Hugo puts beer in his crêpe batter. (It’s very good, except for that one time we ran out of milk and added extra beer to balance out the liquid component. That just resulted in beer-flavored crêpes.)

Honestly, if I was nice enough to make you crêpes, I just want you to shut up and eat them. I don’t want to hear about how I made them wrong. I love to eat, but I’m not a gourmet cook like my dad. So I don’t make crêpes for French people anymore. They are in charge of making the crêpes.

Instead, I make pancakes. Snickerdoodles. Quesadillas. Sesame noodles. And no one gives me any crap about my cooking, which is just how I like it. Here’s what I cook to make my French friends love me more.

Chocolate chip cookies

sugar spill

It’s not like no one in France has ever tasted chocolate chip cookies before. But ever since I found this salted chocolate chunk cookie recipe from Smitten Kitchen, I bring them everywhere. And people are always happy when I do.

I had to get used to making cookies without an electric mixer – I either make sure the butter is close to room temperature so that I can cream it with the sugar by hand with a spoon, or I melt it, mix it with the butter, and put it back in the fridge for a bit. You really feel like you’ve earned your cookies that way.

Brown sugar is not as readily available in France as it is in the U.S. but you can buy it at Monoprix. It’s in a blue resealable bag and it’s called “cassonade douce.” (Don’t let anyone tell you that “cassonade” is brown sugar, because it’s definitely raw sugar, not the magical cookie sugar.)

Pancakes

It doesn’t matter if it’s brunch o’clock or if I need something to feed unexpected tipsy guests at 11 p.m. Pancakes feel good in bellies. They just do.

I rarely made pancakes when I lived in the U.S. but now, this Martha Stewart recipe adapted on Buzzfeed is my go-to. I like the tip about using yogurt or lemon juice to substitute for buttermilk. (Who has buttermilk in their fridge anyway?)

 Cupcakes

Cupcakes 3

So American, right? Cupcakes are kind of a trend in France… but many bakeries either don’t get them right, or charge an arm and a leg (or both). This chocolate cake recipe is amazing, and there’s a buttercream frosting recipe along with it. I don’t know if I would attempt the frosting without a mixer – I don’t have the upper body strength for that! It has been pointed out to me that frosting is not “très français” so now I just put a thin spread of it instead of a big swirl.

Snickerdoodles

Snickerdoodles

Sometimes I think I like snickerdoodles even more than I like chocolate chip cookies. You know how I like funny words. I always use this recipe. If I don’t have brown sugar on hand, I just use all white sugar. If I don’t have cream of tartar (and I never have) I just mix in some baking powder and baking soda. Nothing bad has ever happened.

Quesadillas

Quesadilla

Your French friends probably won’t know what quesadillas are, but their initial suspicions will be quelled when you stuff their mouths with cheesy tortilla and homemade guacamole. (They’ll call the tortillas “crêpes” or “galettes,” but nevermind.) I made these this week with Mexican rice.

Noodles

I am obsessed with noodles right now. This year I found the Asian grocery stores in Lyon. (They’re in the 7th, by Guillotière.) I can buy sesame oil, rice vinegar, and a zillion kinds of soy sauce. I can’t stop making these sesame ginger noodles, and I’m working my way through some new recipes from The Woks of Life. (Although Hugo has made it clear – “beurk! dégueu!” – that he won’t eat any more hoisin sauce.) I pair the noodles with my favorite Asian cucumber salad. Sometimes I drink the leftover dressing out of the bowl. Don’t tell anyone.

I’ve only included links to recipes I love and use on a regular basis. If I have linked to your site and you are displeased, please let me know via my contact page.

          Other useful stuff

IMG_4739I use “levure chimique,” a levening agent that is sold for super cheap in little pink sachets, for baking powder. It’s probably not exactly the same thing, but I don’t really care.

The baking soda in my kitchen is the orange Arm & Hammer kind and it came straight from the USA, but you can buy it in France – look for “bicarbonate“.

Do not accidentally set your oven to 375 Celsius. Sometimes ovens aren’t even in Celsius. They just have numbers (like, 1 to 10) on the dial and you have to guess.

French spicy and American spicy are two different spicies. (I’m kind of a spice-wimp, so French spicy suits me just fine.)

Links

Ingredients for American baking in Paris by David Lebovitz

My Pinterest, where I got all of these ideas in the first place. (I’ve divided the recipes into dessert, brunch, and everything else, because I’m compulsive like that.)

What do you cook for your French friends? Or if you’re French, what is your favorite foreign food?

Renewing my visa in Lyon: 9 hours at the préfecture 

In Lyon, going to the préfecture is surprisingly like a transatlantic flight (minus the in-flight entertainment). You pack snacks and something to read, and then you sit in a chair until you lose all feeling in your ass.

(If you’re wondering what the préfecture is, it’s a big bureaucratic office that deals with things like immigration and drivers licenses. You go to your local préfecture if you need to renew your visa, or if you’re extremely masochistic, for example.)

Not all préfectures operate the same way. At some, you can make an appointment. Sometimes you can show up at 9 a.m. Sometimes you can make an appointment online. In Lyon, you wait in line outside the building to get a ticket, and then you wait inside the building until your number is called. They give out about 150 tickets per day starting at 8:30 a.m., and you have to come early to get one. Last year, that meant showing up before 6:30 a.m. This year… well, let’s just say that things have changed.

2 a.m. Alarm rings. I consider going back to sleep but instead I get up and drink a weird iced coffee. I think it’s been tainted by fridge smell.

2:30 a.m. I walk to the préfecture with an enormous bag filled with snacks, books, a cushion, and photocopies of all the documents I need to renew my visa. Plus a folding chair. I call my parents because it’s only 5 p.m. in California and they’re like, will anyone be at the préfecture so early? Is it safe?

3 a.m. I arrive at the préfecture and the line is already all the way to the end of the block and around the corner. There are about a hundred people ahead of me. The girl at the head of the line tells me she’s been there since 6 p.m. the night before, and at least thirty people are stretched out sleeping because they’ve been there all night. I set up my chair at the end of the line and get as comfortable as I can under the circumstances.

4 a.m. I’m glad I brought Calvin & Hobbes with me. I thought about bringing L’Écume des jours, but then I got real and reminded myself that this was not the time to challenge my brain.

5 a.m. My phone battery is already down to 30%. This doesn’t look promising.

5:28 a.m. The line is now so far down the block that I can’t see the end. I’m vaguely paranoid about not getting a ticket, but I think it should be fine. The people next to me are speaking a language I don’t understand. Ukranian? Only three hours to go…. until the préfecture actually opens.

5:29 a.m. I should have gotten fries on the way here.

5:46 a.m. This is when I GOT HERE last year. I’ve been here for almost three hours now.

5:50 a.m. A man asks which way to the end of the line. This means that the line is so long in both directions that he can’t tell where it starts. He sits down on the sidewalk and is politely informed that he actually needs to go all the way to the back of the line, because apparently he either doesn’t understand how queuing works, or he thinks we are all dumb or passive enough to let him cut in. Never assume that about people who have been in line since 3 a.m.

5:55 a.m. Three hours down! I can’t wait to go home and sleep later. And maybe eat a burger.

6 a.m. The street lights click off. I guess this means it’s officially morning.

6:30 a.m. A mosquito buzzes around my head. Seriously?! A mosquito?!

6:50 a.m. People are munching on pain au chocolat and I can smell the butter. #jealous

7 a.m. The line starts moving. We round the corner… and wait some more. Queuers step off the sidewalk to smoke their morning cigarettes. Blech.

8 a.m. I’m now all the way up to the employee entrance on the side of the building. There’s a steady stream of fonctionnaires coming in to work, sliding through the throng of immigrants outside. I wonder if they know how long we’ve been waiting.

8:45 a.m. I’m in! I set up my chair in the corner by an outlet to charge my phone. I’m ticket number E118… And they’re on number E019. Settle in and wait, part two. I eat my last cookie to celebrate.

8:57 a.m. A dude comes up to me and asks to borrow my glasses. He needs them to sign a paper. I try to explain that they’re not reading glasses and I forget the word for “near-sighted” because my brain is set in English/zombie right now. No one has ever asked to borrow the glasses off my face before.

9:16 a.m. omg I smell coffee.

10 a.m. They’re up to E055. Only 63 more to go. I just want to go to sleep. I look at the woman soothing her four-month-old. It must be tough to come here with a baby. There are a lot of families. A seven-year-old with a cast on her leg riding on her dad’s shoulders, a woman breast-feeding her baby, a blonde with a sequined top pushing a double stroller.

10:01 a.m. The people who wanted to borrow my glasses an hour ago have just finished at the guichet. No wonder it takes so long to bing-bong through all the ticket numbers.

11:26 a.m. E100! Only 18 more to go. I feel brain-dead but Josh and Chuck (of Stuff You Should Know podcast fame) are helping me stay zen. (With a podcast on road rage, ironically.)

11:39 a.m. The room is emptying out. There are less than 30 of us remaining.

11:45 a.m. Yes! E118, guichet 22. My turn!

I get a nice girl who is probably younger than me. Her supervisor is the dude with glasses who wouldn’t accept my dossier last year. I called her window a “guichet” but it’s really a glass cubicle. There’s a transparent wall separating us. It’s nothing like stepping up to the window to buy a train ticket, even though that’s also called a guichet. You don’t wait in line for half a day to buy a train ticket, even if you want to go somewhere really cool like Croatia.

I hand over copies of my carte de séjour, my passport, my justificatif de domicile, aka proof that I’m not homeless (my lease and electric bill, just to be sure), my last four paychecks. She compares them all to the originals and initials each page. I give them the attestation from the university that says they’re hiring me next year and my autorisation de travail from DIRECCTE, the department who gets to say, “Yeah, it’s cool if you work in our country,” or not.

Wait, there’s a problem. “No, this work authorization is from last year. We need the one from this year.” I start to panic. Should I have gone to DIRECCTE first? Did I screw this up? Then I remember I can’t get that form by myself – the university has to do it for me, and they won’t until September.

Another person is telling her that I absolutely need the one for this year, not last year. She comes back to the window. I’m shaking my head and internally freaking out.

“Don’t worry,” she says before I have a meltdown. “I’ll still take your dossier. You just need to bring in the form when you get it in September. You don’t have to come back early in the morning.”

She takes my fingerprints (“Uh, your right hand is the other one”) and has me fill out a form and sign my récipissé, the temporary document that says I’m legal while I wait for my new carte de séjour, my visa.

And then it’s over. All her coworkers have already gone to lunch. It’s 12:15 p.m. so I wish her a bonne journée and get out of there so fast I almost forget my chair. The line for the 1 p.m. tickets is already spilling out the door. (Afternoon tickets are for different orders of business than morning tickets.) The sun is shining but it’s not too hot. My adrenaline keeps me running just long enough to eat lunch and walk poor Tigrou the dog, and then I crash.

Today of all days, I give myself permission to do nothing but sleep, lounge, and Netflix all afternoon. Because I won my préfecture battle of 2015 and got my récipissé on the first try, dammit.

And it only took nine hours.

This was not my worst trip to the préfecture, even though it was the longest. You can read about my past adventures in French bureaucracy here.