SUCK IT UP BOULE, SUCK IT UP.

I went to Savate class alone for the first time today. No friends to help me out this time, just me and my shit French, working it out together. During the warm up jokes were being passed back and forth between people but rather than laugh, I merely gave my best "vacant yet interested with a hint of confusion and a scent of nervousness" smile and hoped no one thought I was a deaf mute.
Warm up ends.

TEACHER: JDFHKSDHFE!
ME: Uh.....je suis la? (I am here?) Oops, I mean je VAIS la? (I go here?)
TEACHER: OUI. JDHSDFKHSKDHFU!
ME: Um, pardon?
TEACHER: KJGKJGSJHFDHGFD!
ME: Uh, oui d'accord. (Uh, yes ok...it's my staple standard answer for everything when I have no idea what was just said to me)
TEACHER: KJKJSBJDVHSGFS!

My teacher does not care that I don't understand French, he proceeds as though I do, instructing me the same as everyone else and taps me in my stomach with his glove to show me how I have let me guard down. He then taps me in my head every time I take my eyes off his. Dude, this is all getting vaguely familiar.
And then I feel it coming.
Oh no.
The tears have decided to make an appearance.
OH NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOOON!!, I scream to myself. You are NOT crying here. No fucking way. LOCK IT UP, BOULE. LOCK. IT. UP. Just WRAP those tears RIGHT on up because you are the middle of a SAVATE class in FRANCE and they ALL know you come from Brooklyn. If you cry right now, it will be NOTHING compared to what I will do to you after class when you realize you are now the "fake New York/I want my mommy" girl who was HUMILIATED by CRYING on her first day alone in class.
LOCK.
IT.
UP.

We move onto kicks.

TEACHER: KJSDHFKSDGFAJKHFGDFJSH!!
ME: Oui, d'accord.
TEACHER: JHSGJHGJSFDJHGSFDAFG!!!!!
ME: Oui oui, d'accord d'accord (crazily move arms around hoping something I randomly do is something he actually asked me to do)
TEACHER: LA MAIN DROITE....DERRIERE!!!
ME: OH MY GOD! WAIT! I KNOW THIS ONE! RIGHT ARM BEHIND ME!!! OH MY GOD! I UNDERSTOOD!

In my glee, I flew my right arm back and proceeded to smash it into the open window behind me which promptly slammed shut with a BANG.
"Um, pardon."

I feel like an oversized retarded martian playing Wheel Of Fortune French while simultaneously learning to kick box. Sweet. But everyone is so nice to me there and after working out, they all helped spell out the names of the kicks so I can write them in my notebook. They even correct my French.

Je ne pleurerai pas pendant le cours de savate.
Je ne pleurerai pas pendant le cours de savate.
Je ne pleurerai pas pendant le cours de savate.
Je ne pleurerai pas pendant le cours de savate.
(I will not cry in savate class.)

:)