Friday 28 September 2012

A few things...


  • I don't fancy drinking the tap water out here, apparently there are agricultural chemicals in the water. It's good that bottled water is cheap - 6 x 2l bottles for just over 1€ - the problem is walking back to the house with it. From now on, I'll buy a few bottles at a time, it'll only cost a few cents more.
  • I now own a cheque book. This makes me feel like an adult. Even better, each cheque has a photo from somewhere around the world. How cool is that?!
  •  Even the smallest of conversations can help boost confidence in a second language.
  • I don't like the idea that I'm going to have to go to a launderette to do my washing, but again, it'll be something different to try out.
  • I feel like I survived my first meeting with my responsable and other colleagues in the school, more to come on that.
  • I miss having an ensuite.
  • Oven trays seem to be almost non-existent over here. You know, the small flat metal things you put food on and then put that in the oven? Non?
  • Lined paper also doesn't seem to be something that is known to the French. It's weird what you miss when living abroad. I'm sorry, but writing on squared paper is just wrong, that's for maths.

Wednesday 26 September 2012

Keeping Calm

So I've decided to update this blog as a way to try and remain calm. I'm meeting my responsable tomorrow morning and it would be an understatement to say I'm nervous. I believe I've prepared fairly well for this meeting; I've written down a bulletpointed list (in English) of things I need to ask him, I couldn't be bothered to translate the list and well, at least I'll be practising my spontaneous French at 9am instead of reciting sentences.


Over the last few days, I've not done that much. Sunday was spent in the house because it rained ALL day and yesterday, I wasn't feeling up to doing much. It will be better when I have a routine. It will, it will. On Saturday, I was going to go to an event at the local library, well, I was until I woke up later than planned, it was raining and the event was taking place at a multimedia centre further down town. I really need to accept that it is going to rain a lot here. Welcome to Brittany. In the evening, I went to the local bar and had a cocktail, whilst I sat in the corner and read a book for an hour. There were two people there, who I vaguely know because I've been talking to them on Twitter etc, but I was too shy to go up to them. I came home to find a tweet saying that if I ever felt alone in the bar, I was welcome to go and join them. How lovely.


On Monday, I took the bus to St Brieuc to meet Angela, another English Language Assistant. Each way took about 1h40 minutes and cost 2€. Two euros. When I read this, I initially thought I had misundertood, either that, or the bus would be a tin can on wheels. Well, when a nice coach turned up, I was rather surprised. I decided to take this option over the trains, because despite the fact that it would have cost me 28€, as I am yet to buy a carte jeune, the 'train' leaving at just before 9am was actually, a coach and two trains - for an hour's journey - what the...?


So I met up with Angela, we walked round for a bit, had an early lunch, went to find the lycée for the training day and then went to the cinema. We went to see a French film, called 'Camille redouble' without subtitles. Brave, but we didn't have much other option. At first, we were the only ones in the screen, by the end, there were four of us. Totally packed. I think we both came away understanding the most part of the film, even if we didn't understand what was being said.

Today, I went out in between the rain to collect some letters that had been redirected to the post office. But before that, I checked the post box to find not one, but 4 letters for me. All from the post office giving me information about my bank account. Each letter said something different. I appreciate the concept behind keeping details separate but... wow. At the post office, the window I needed was momentarily shut. No big problem, so I sat on a chair and waited. Seconds later, a woman asked if I was waiting to see her and I explained that I was waiting for the window to re-open and she just smiled, and walked me over to a different window (which I believed to be for something completely different). This woman was still grinning from ear to ear when I left. I'm glad to have entertained you, Madame.

Right, I'm going to find all the important documents for tomorrow and then try to get some sleep, despite feeling ridiculously nervous.

Friday 21 September 2012

Mini Challenges

It can be really scary to sit and think 'oh my, I'm currently sat in a freezing cold house, in the middle of a small French town. In a week. I'll be teaching and then I'll be doing this and then that and oh oh, ARGH!' - believe me, I've sat here and done that. To be honest, it really isn't helpful either. I've been talking to a few friends this week, and I think we've all had a short moment when we've wished we were at home and going back to start final years in our respective UK universities. It can be frustrating, especially when French bureaucracy keeps on failing us. If you are seeing yourself in what I'm writing, know that you just have to make the most of it, you really don't have much choice about being in a francophone country for about 8 months (maybe more if you're not doing the BC Assistantship), but in the end, you're going to want to look back on your YA and have some good memories.

Pep talk over, well maybe not just yet. You have to push yourself, set yourself challenges. We all remember what it was like 2 years ago when we moved across or up/down the country to start Freshers' Week at university and all the challenges that followed. Take things one day at a time and you'll be fine. I know for myself, and those who know me well will also know, that this YA is a huge thing for me, but I'm determined to not be defeated by it.

Right.
So what have I been doing in the last couple of days?
Yesterday I went for a short walk round the market, I was only out for an hour so I don't think I managed to see it all, but in the short time I was there, a few blog-worthy things happened.

  • A few seconds after approaching the market, I was stopped by a charity worker who was getting me to buy some stuffed animals. Only have 20€ notes on me, and not wanting to risk not getting change back, I told him I'd come back. Well, in the end, I left the market by a different road, not intentionally, though.
  • I bought some nice earrings. They're flowers, which isn't like me, but the colour is gorgeous and they were only 2€.
  • 2 middle-aged, maybe older men started talking to me and one gave me a free leaflet. I looked down, then I realised I'd been caught by the French equivalent of Jehovah's Witnesses, I think these men were evangelic (is that the correct term?). When they asked me if I believed in God, I was truthful and said no. I was then offered the English book 'Our Daily Bread'. I told them that I was fine, but I would read the free leaflet because it was French.
  • I helped an elderly woman with a metal rod, bring a traffic cone into her house. That's as much as I understood. She would have never reached it by herself, because I think if she walked out the door, it would have locked her out, but the cone was too far away to reach, even with the rod. Who knows why she wanted the cone in the first place...
  • I signed and returned my contents insurance. I picked up a pre-stamped envelope from the post office which had a label underneath it for 0,77€. Took it to the desk to pay this amount, but I started off by saying that I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. The guy said it was all done and put the envelope in what I presume was the 'outgoing' stuff. I just hope the people on the other end don't get charged. I can't see that going down well...
  • I went to the Tourist Information Office and was given a few leaflets and I also found out where the nearest photo booth was located. I also overheard a young guy saying that he was in Lannion for the year. When we left, I did something very out of character, but went up to him and introduced myself. I gave him my email address so we could contact each other. Let's see what comes out of that.
  • I bought some photos for various ID cards I'll be obtaining. Seriously, if you're still in the UK and haven't got some like I was going to, go out and get some. For 5€, I got not one, not four, but 5 mugshots. Woo. I know you're not meant to look good on ID photos, but these are horrific. Jeez. Quite worrying how the background on the photos looks grey but... we'll see. It was better than paying God-knows how much for a photographer to take one.
A Hotel for Insects...

On the way to the bus station to get the mugshots, I walked past this. At first, I thought it was really bizarre. On the way back, I thought it was quite a good idea as long as there are no biting/stinging insects in there. 

I was going to go to the library today, but I saw on their website that there's some sort of Open Day tomorrow, so I'll go then, and maybe talk to some people. Tomorrow evening, I've decided that I will be going to the local bar that I've mentioned before, Le Chapelier. I didn't go on Thursday because I didn't want to walk back alone in the dark, but then I realised, I think I'll be doing that a fair bit over the next 7 months or so. Plus, it really is a too short a distance for an expensive taxi.

I should go and update my French blog now, but I certainly won't be writing as much as I do on here!
Bisous xx

Wednesday 19 September 2012

La vie lannionnaise

So, do I think I've settled in yet? A little. I've now completely unpacked (not that there was a lot to do...). I had a bit of a wobble emotionally yesterday, but to be honest that was expected. It's scary moving to a country where you mainly have to converse in your second language; at times it is very stressful, so little panics and 'I want to go home' moments are okay. I think I'll feel better when I start teaching. Not because I think it'll be easy teaching, hell no, but it'll give me a routine. Routine, this is something that I've been working on in the last year, and as soon as I don't have one, I tend to lose myself.

Anyway, so what have I done since my last post? Apart from getting sidetracked by various comics and articles (in both languages), I've not really done a lot. I didn't do anything in the day on Sunday because the town is completely shut down. In the evening, the landlords came round to meet me and my other colocs (housemates), not all of them were there though. They seem friendly enough; both the colocs and the landlords. Then, I tried to Skype my parents, but the connection at home was having none of it.

Monday, I went to the bank, first at just gone midday, but then was soon reminded that France shuts down for the lunch hour, or two. As the centre of the town was only 10 minutes from my house, I returned and tried again a few hours later. At first, when I got into the bank/post office rolled into one, the financial advisor, who I saw on Saturday, was nowhere to be seen. After waiting about 15 minutes, I asked somebody who went and found her. She seems very lovely and talks to me at a reasonable pace - not too slow as if to say she thinks I'm an idiot, but not full-flown French. She also talks really loudly, but I think that's just her in general. At the end of the meeting she said she hopes everything would be sorted by the beginning of next week, so I can give my details to the CAF and my employer.


As I left the bank, it started to rain, but I still continued to walk to the Carrefour city - probably a tad more expensive than the E.Leclerc, but I don't fancy walking 25~ minutes with food shopping and giant bottles of water. When I came out of the shop, it was raining a bit heavier [wow, this blog post must be SO interesting for you...] but I made it back to the house without any major issues. Win.


Yesterday, I went round the corner (literally) to the famous steps of this town, Les Escaliers de Brelevenez and took some photos. It was very pretty up there, but the thing that made me smile was when I saw a group of teenagers being made to run up the hills surrounding the church and steps. Good ol' PE, glad I don't have to do that anymore. It also made me wonder if I'd be teaching any of them. For those of you who are friends with me on Facebook, you can see the pictures there, if not, you'll just have to put up with the one in this post.


I haven't taken any photos of my room, as of yet, and I'm not sure if I will. Might take one at the end of the year. It's very plain and basic, but I can't moan. Considering I was petrified that this would be a scam, it has turned out alright. I have heard of people in the city of Rennes, who have been there for over a week and are still looking for accommodation. Not good.


I'm looking forward to tomorrow though. Thursday is market day here and apparently, from what I've read, the market goes on for over 9 hours and there are over 250 sellers. Definitely heading there tomorrow and I'm considering in the evening to go to that bar I've mentioned previously. Gutted that they've changed their hours (used to be open at 2pm!) and cut down on the days, but hey, I guess when I'm teaching I can't have a pina colada every day!

A bientôt! :)


Saturday 15 September 2012

I've arrived...

So, this is it. I'm in my little French town of Lannion. It was a long stressful journey to get here, but the main thing is that I got here safe and sound. It took 7 and a half hours (with 2 stops) to get to Plymouth port, so when I only arrived an hour before my ferry, I was panicking (that really doesn't look as if I've spelt it correctly...). I checked in and when I asked about access to the cabin, the check-in lady said someone would meet me at the embarkation doors. They didn't. I took the lift with my massive suitcase, holdall and laptop case, and then realised there was a fair walk to the ferry. Struggling along, I almost got to the end when a woman asked me if I wanted help, took one of my bags and gave it to her husband. Then there were about 40 steps to climb... thankfully, a guy took the case for me.



I found my cabin, got settled and tried to go to sleep. This was until they played the wake-up call music at 5am (5 hours later as we were still following British time). Another woman helped me with my stuff - notice how it's women who were volunteering to help me? - I had to ask the two men that did help me move my case a bit; upstairs or off the bus. I found my temporary housemate, Maxime, really easily. He helped me with my stuff and after I tried to get in the wrong side of the car, we left for Lannion.

Since being in Lannion and the house itself, I've managed to get half way through opening a bank account and I've been to the supermarket, only got enough to last me a few days though, so don't know what I'll do then as the supermarket is a fair way out. I've had a nap and now really feel as if I should start unpacking, but I have NONE of the motivation.

*a few hours later*
I've unpacked one bag, made my bed and had a shower. I want to go and get dinner, but there's people in the kitchen and I don't want to intrude... but it is my house too. Gah. Also, I want to avoid the awkward franglais conversation.



Think I'll leave it at this for now. I'm tempted to go and explore, but I think I'll stay in tonight. The little town is quite cute really, will take some photos soon. I don't think it's really sunk in yet that I'm here for at least 7 months now. Gulp.

Tuesday 11 September 2012

Official (Pre-)Year Abroad Breakdown

So I'd heard that a fair few people get quite emotional just before their Year Abroad and this is mine. I'm freaking out. I won't go into detail about how and why, but those who know me well will know how I'm reacting right now.


AAAHHHHHH!

Thursday 6 September 2012

Don't fail to prepare, or you'll prepare to fail...

So as this is my last full week at home, the Year Abroad preparations have been switched up a level. It dawned on me that I still needed another suitable-sized luggage, as well as taking ownership of my parents' biggest suitcase. For months I've been planning on getting a rucksack, so I finally decided to get looking, because if I wanted it to be delivered, I had to order soon because time is running out. Before I left Leeds for the Summer, I found one I quite liked and was decently priced, so went online to find it again - only to realise that it was currently out of stock. After widening my search, I came across a slighter dearer, but slightly bigger rucksack so bought that. Plus, it's purple, so all is well.

Space. Obviously, this is the main worry when it comes to packing and if you're flying, weight restrictions are a close runner-up. As I'm getting a ferry, I can take as much as I can carry and I am determined to do so. There's fewer changes in my journey than I thought, so it won't be too much of a struggle. My friend, who has recently jetted off to Russia, bought some vacuum storage packs. I'd heard of these before but never got round to trying them, but there's not better time like the present. After searching good ol' Amazon, I came across these; and despite the packaging being written in a completely different language, I find them to be absolutely fine for what I need, and at £10 for 6, you can't complain.

Talking of money, I needed to work out how much I wanted to take to France until I get my salary. I read that it is recommended to take about £1000 to cover you until the end of October. When I figured out that, by the end of September, I will have paid my landlords 542€, I'm not sure if that'll be enough, especially when to open a bank account, I'll need a starting sum of 100€. As I didn't want to use my debit card abroad and I didn't want to take that much cash, I decided to get a CaxtonFX currency card which has been recommended a lot. The card is free, there's no transfer fees, you can use them at most ATMs and you top it up by internet, text or call. I loaded my card today, which was really simple to do, all that remains to do is to call them to receive my PIN number.

All this preparation is good, but I'm still avoiding the preparation which scares me the most. Preparing lessons. We're meant to receive a welcome pack from the British Council, by post, in August, but it seems they're quite behind on things. I have however, come across this, which is a very informative manual about being a language assistant. From what I've read so far, I now have a few pointers on where to start and in a few days, I'll contact my responsable again to ask a few questions about things such as the level of the students' English and if there are already any resources available to me. I've already been in touch with him this week asking about dress code. I had originally addressed this question to the principal, who I've not got a reply from yet. The good news is, there's no restrictions on what I am allowed to wear - which includes jeans.

I think I'm getting rather excited now. Just really not looking forward to the packing. I'll be back soon with a few ideas on how I'm going to deal with teaching.

Monday 3 September 2012

Translation: The Cost of Homophobia



This is the translation that I have been doing over the last few days and I thought I'd post it here as it's easier to share that way, plus it is linked to my Year Abroad... just about. I realise that I could change some bits to make it more 'Englishy', but I can't be bothered right now, I'll do it later. I've had it checked by a French native, so I know that I understood the original article well enough. The original article can be found here. I'm actually quite proud of myself for getting through the entire 2000-word article. Enjoy and feel free to share.

********************************************************************************************


Dear reader, allow me to put you in the picture. I’m a few days away from reaching the ripe-old age of 21, preparing for my Year Abroad in Lannion, France and I’m wondering about how I will fit in to French culture, especially when it comes to sexuality. Many people might not see this as such a dilemma; ‘So what if you’re gay? Chill out’. That’s easier said than done though when facing a whole new, albeit Western, culture. Of course, I want to go out and enjoy myself in France, but can I do that whilst being true to myself?

Over the past two months, I’ve been doing some intense research into the gay life that is available in my town and by cutting a long story short, I came across the LGBTH association, &BraiseZ, (also see Let Us Be) which lead me to an amazing article. I’ll admit, I didn’t understand everything that was written, but what I did manage follow, I found very moving indeed. So moving, I decided to challenge myself and translate it into English. I promised, as I rightly should, that I would credit the original authors, so here goes; thank you to Christophe Segard, President of &BraiseZ and also to Axy, from Rainbow Brest, for composing this wonderful article and for allowing me [to attempt] to translate it so that the message can reach a wider, English audience.

Right, that was the easy bit. I have a dictionary at the ready, let’s get translating.

The Cost of Homophobia
How do you define homophobia, or even LGBTphobia? Is it a call for hatred, an invitation for violence? Does homophobia stem from ignorance, from fear of others or the unknown? In France today, we know one thing for sure; the hateful comments found throughout this article are now punishable by law. Each of these homophobic insults could bring a fine of 45 000€ and a year imprisonment.

‘I’m homophobic and not afraid to show it’
The original article explores the vast amount of tweets which were created whilst this year’s Paris Pride march was in full-swing. I am not going to be translating them for two reasons; the first, being that I think my head would implode with all the colloquial language and the second, being that I had far too much of a great time at Paris Pride to sit and re-read such awful comments. Throughout this article, I’ll take you on a journey which will be similar to the one which Axy describes in her letter.

Yet, first I want to show you some responses to a homophobic attack in which a young man was tortured. If you read French, the article can be found [here]http://andbraisez.com/index.php/actus/homophobie/900-violente-agression-dans-le-doubs.

‘Now the victim will realise that he must stop this abominable sexual debauchery’
‘Homosexuality is a deviation, a mental illness’
‘There’s more and more of them, yet they can’t reproduce. Whose fault is that?’
‘The sado-masochistic games went wrong…’

The present government committed itself to answering a question which, during the political campaigns, was directly linked to the recent attack: ‘Will you provide a public organisation with the means to fight efficiently against Internet-borne homophobia and transphobia?’ In response, M. François Hollande has been in favour of this concept.

The small sample of homophobia which is portrayed throughout the original article represents a grand total of a fine worth nearly 2 million euros! This is the price of daily homophobia, which was found in a few minutes with minimum effort.

Rainbow Brest
The following comes from the Rainbow Brest association, which works in partnership with &BraiseZ in the fight against LGBTphobia. Axy, the author is an activist who likes girls, boys, boys who like boys, girls who like girls and then also the girls who like boys and boys who like girls…

Homophobic friends, prepare yourselves for a little trip to the country of love, tolerance and kindness, a country with sharing, no violence and many other things which seem so strange to you.

Dear our homophobic friend
Oh yes, you read it right. I’m not like you, but I don’t hate you. You spout out hate towards me and my community, but I can’t bring myself to hate people, even those like you. You know, I like girls and if you roll your eyes as I kiss my sweetheart in front of you, it’s because I love her - not for the pleasure of provoking you. It’s purely because I love her and that love is a really great feeling. And well, just like that, I prove my love to her. You know, you should give love a try, it’s life-changing.

You turn your nose up at us, you talk about beating us up, you say we’re sick, you see us as a disgrace to society. But do you really know us? Do you know who we are? Do you live our lives? Don’t you think that you should have tried to get to know us before making your judgement?

No, of course not. Because if that was the case, if you got to know us, you’d like us.

You would realise that we’re just like you. We have jobs, houses, friends, problems, families, dogs, cats and also fiancés. Fiancés to whom we do not have the right to marry. That right there, that’s the real blow. You have the right to marry anyone you want to and to divorce them and start again. Well, you see, we can’t do that. We have to constantly give everything we have just to let it be known that we want this right too.

Come with me, dear homophobe. Don’t worry, you don’t have to hold my hand if I disgust you that much. If the worst happens and you brush against me, I have antibacterial wipes so you can disinfect yourself. You never know, I might be contagious. Come with me. Come look around my community. I’ll show you the people who run our associations because we didn’t click our fingers to get here, you know. We struggle every day, but we never stop. We listen to the victims of your prejudice, we console them and we tell them that we will never give up. We dress their wounds and build up their morale. Do you realise that your only achievement is the blood which stains your hands?

Do you know the kind of idiots which will be spurred into action by your comments and who will believe that knocking us about is a good idea? Have you seen the bruises, the punches, the broken limbs all because a man and his lover crossed paths with individuals who had nothing better to do with their lives?  Come, we’re going to A+E who sees these victims all the time, and you know what, you’ll be shocked by their pride and their strength, because even if they’re heart is always in their mouth with incessant butterflies in their stomach, they continue to give everything they have, to talk and to point the finger at those to blame.

Look, while we’re here in A+E, I’ll show you the hundreds of kids who try to take their own life every week because they feel the full force of homophobia. Along with them, I’ll show you the deep cuts on the wrist, the boxes of swallowed pills, those who jumped out of windows, the scars which they’ll keep for life because their sexuality is frowned upon. I’m not going to show those who jumped off bridges or those who stood on the rail tracks, because they’re no longer here to talk. Come on, we’ll pass by the cemetery, and if you don’t know what to do, you can help me put flowers on their headstones. It won’t bring them back, but who knows; perhaps the silence at the grave of a 16-yr old girl who shot herself because she liked girls will cause you to think for two seconds.

While you’re here, we’ll go round the town. Have you seen them, the two men holding hands? I don’t know why but I find it really beautiful. It’s rare to see heterosexuals proving their love to each other in public. Do you know why we do it? Because we feel love and because we don’t have the right to wear wedding rings. Because we don’t have the right to justly show our love. Because we should be happy with a so-called equivalent. You will admit that the world isn’t equal but even you, the heterosexuals, have the right to a civil partnership, but we can’t marry. Logical, right? You think, deep down, that it’s not that serious. We can also have ‘super ceremonies’ with the Soeurs de la perpétuelle indulgence[literally: Sisters of Constant Indulgence] (one day, I’ll introduce you to them, I’m sure that a host of men wearing red lipstick will please you) with promises, vows, rings, and people who cry all the tears they have in them because there is nothing more beautiful than a good kiss between two guys or two girls who have just got married. But then you say that through the eyes of society, they’re not truly married… well, believe me; in the eyes of those who were there, they are the very definition of the beauty of marriage.

Oh look. Look. Two ladies with a baby. Come, let’s ask them about who they stole the baby from. You hear that? It’s theirs. It’s their baby. Theirs. They are two women and they have a baby. Come on, look, they’ll introduce you. The child is beautiful, is it not? He has the eyes of his mum and the chin of his other mum.

Do you know what this child will become? An adult. An adult with a bit more tolerance than what you have.

Look, the night is drawing in. You should come with me on a night out; we shouldn’t stop seeing as things are going so well. Do you see them, all these people who appreciate everyone here without actually knowing each other? Do you know why? It’s because we’ve gone through hell throughout the day, to brush off your comments, to struggle to be accepted, to bear the weight of your remarks, so that when we all meet up, we come close together, without question. When you get drunk, you fight and you argue. Yet when we’re tipsy, we continue to love each other. We only do that; we love each other, we love and see a friendship in each new meeting and one more reason to keep fighting for all that I’ve shown you. 

Wait, I’ve not finished. Come with me and we’ll see all the people who, voluntarily, with all their heart and free time, keep our associations running. I will show you them, the crazy ones who write articles at 3am, those who plan future events, those who spend their life on the phone giving a shoulder to cry on for those who need to be heard. Each person you point your finger at, their body covered in your spit will look for help during all hours of the night – they will find us. We fight so that this person knows who to call, and especially so that they know that their fight is also our fight.

You know, us, the queers, the butches, the lesbos, the homos, the trans, the drag queens, the bisexuals, when one of us falls from your hits, the whole community cries, without exceptions. When you shoot one of us, we all fall down. And, each time, it is us who stands up with more strength, because each added name to the memorial wall is another name for which we will win this battle, for which all of us will defy you, for which we will achieve equality.

Because tomorrow, when your son introduces you to his lover, you will think of his happiness.
Because tomorrow, when your daughter gets married to another woman, you will cry because they are wonderful and because you are so proud of them that you want to tell the whole world.
Because tomorrow, you will come to boost the numbers in the Pride March because we personify love, nothing but love.
Because tomorrow, when we will all be in the streets shouting for joy because we will have the right to marry, because we’ll have the right to have children, you will be with us to toast the champagne.
And because, I don’t hate you, even if you haven’t understood anything today. I pity you. You miss out on the most beautiful things which life has to offer. Joy, beauty, pleasure, happiness, sharing, courage, pride. And love, of course.

Sincerely,
Axy.

P.S In fact, you can tell your homophobic friends that even if you shout loudly, we will sing loud than you. Always.

We will never let go of anything
This article is dedicated to all the victims of homophobia over the years, those who knew how to fight it, those who suffered physically and psychologically and those who fell under Hate’s bullets and punches. Never will we forget you or cut our losses but wherever you are, know that we will never resign and never will we admit defeat.