Sunday, December 26, 2010

christmas markets from a to z

In the past month, I have had the luxury to immerse myself in some of the greatest Christmas markets - marchés de Noël or Weihnachtsmärkte - in Europe. The sights, sounds, smells, savors, and sensations of these marvels are so enthralling that I could not do it justice by writing it in a traditional fashion. So in order to provide a small glimpse of what this phenomenon is like, I have created an abécédaire consisting of French and German words that describe the wonders of the Christmas market.

Animaux

Goats, sheep, llamas, rabbits, and even chickens greet crowds of people.

Bretzel

Soft-breaded and salted goodness.

Crèche

Even secular countries like France still acknowledge the nativity.

Décorations

Ornamanents, Christmas bulbs, garland, and lights.

Eislaufen

Small but substantive ice skating rinks are found almost everywhere.

Fromage

Cheese is a necessity.

Gauffre

Smothered in Nutella, warm Belgian waffles are a perfect afternoon snack.

Hüte

Santa hats, Alsacian hats, stork hats, reindeer hats...

Illuminations

Lights, lights, lights!

Jouets

Toys for all the good little girls and boys.

Kugelhopf

A traditional Alsacien cake available sweet or savory.

Lebkuchen

Gingerbread cookie decorated with icing and various quotations.

Marrons chauds

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...

Nußknacker

Perfect gift for a nutcase.

Obst

All sorts of fruit either fresh or dried.

Père Noël

Father Christmas, or better known as Santa Claus.

Quartiers

Christmas markets are found in different corners of each town.

Regenschirme

Europeans have an odd habit of ducking under umbrellas when snow falls.

Santons

Little hand-painted figurines of various personnages for nativity scenes.

Tannenbaum

How lovely are thy branches.

Unité

Christmas markets promote peace and harmony.

Vin chaud

Mulled wine is a great way to warm up in the bitter cold.

Wurstwaren

Many types of sausages and meats available for a meal or a tasty snack.

Xtase

"Ecstasy"...because Christmas makes us all ecstatic.

Yulefest

"Julefest'"..because in German, Js are pronounced like Ys and I couldn't find anything else.

Zucker

Sugar and candy are part of a staple diet during the holiday season.

Please note that my German is subpar, so there are bound to be a few errors on that front.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

bisous

One of the most enigmatic aspects of the French culture is the notion of “la bise” – the ritual greeting among friends and acquaintances where kisses are exchanged on either cheek.

As a rather reserved person, I was utterly stifled the first time I was introduced to this habit when visiting France in the seventh grade. I remember my host mother grabbing my face with such vigor and planting sloppy wet kisses on both of its sides. This practice continued with my host father, brother, and three sisters. What a sight it must have been to see this shy tiny girl, who at the time did not speak much French, utterly thrown into this madness of the French bise with a bunch of enthusiastic strangers!

Now ten years have gone by, during which many more interactions with the French people have occurred and the understanding of the language has been entrenched… yet I still find myself in kind of a small panic when I have to perform the bisous with certain people I meet. For some French, they understand that Americans are obsessed with their personal space and thereby only offer a handshake. For others, they forget that I’m a foreigner and treat me with the same respect as they would with their French colleagues. And for a few others – notably the children at my school – they are deeply in awe of the amiable language assistant and desire to share their affection in any way they can. Yet each time I cannot tell what is expected of me, throwing me off ever so slightly.

Having done some research on this subject, I have come to discover that the bise is also a mystifying phenomenon for the French themselves. A full list of questions spring up every time the action is passed:

  1. When do you faire la bise?
  2. Whom do you offer it to?
  3. What cheek do you start on?
  4. Must you actually touch/kiss the check?
  5. Must you make the kissing noise each time?
  6. How many kisses are required? (One website even shows a map of the number of kisses each department of France typically gives: http://combiendebises.free.fr/).

It’s a convoluted process that requires more thought and contact with those you meet, provoking you to throw down your beret and pull out your hair. In the long run, all the bise really means is “Hello, I’m glad to see you today,” which I guess in turn is something nice.

Ergo, we may never master the art of the bise. Like everything else here in France, it will forever remain in theory the simplest of acts but in reality turn out to be much more difficult.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

the besançon address

Four score and seven days ago, I began my journey to become an English assistant in France.

It is by mere coincidence that I came across a Gettysburg Address reference last week on The Daily Show. A brilliant jab at Sarah Palin’s tweeting addiction, Jon Stewart in all his humor and brilliance suggested what Lincoln’s famous address would look like in 140 characters or less:

No offense to 'honest_abe' and the talented writers on the Daily Show, I cannot demonstrate my 87 days abroad in the same fashion simply by the fact that I actually have a twitter. As I drop my head in shame, I have to admit that I’m a terrible tweeter – a twit perhaps – and have severely neglected my page immediately upon its creation. So in lieu of of tweeting, I've decided to do some tweaking to Lincoln's famous speech to capture the atmosphere of life as an English assistant in the Franche-Comté. Without further ado, I will take my place at the podium:

Ahem. (Clears throat.)

The Besançon Address

December 9, 2010

Four score and seven days ago our airline carriers brought several of us forth to another continent, another nation, conceived in Liberty and a bottle of red wine, and dedicated to the proposition that all English assistants are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great linguistic and cultural war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure the bureaucratic chaos and the obstacles of a complicated educational system. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave 12 hours a week out of their lives that that nation might live and speak English properly with every “th”, every “r”, and every “h.” It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men and women, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power and our tiny 700€/month salaries to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here in either English or French, and it can easily forget what they did here. It is for us with living assistantship contracts, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced with their hundreds of worksheets, song sharing, boisterous gests, voice recordings, and power point presentations. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead or whose visas have expired we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full or half-attempted measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead or repatriates shall not have died or immigrated in vain -- that this nation, under Nicolas Sarkozy, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that the English language of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

(Cheers come from the crowd.)

Knowing that Lincoln is rolling in his grave, I forever look to him as a role model. Four scores already completed and seven scores of days to go, I will happily continue the battle to anglicize the rest of the world. I’ve really been enjoying my life as an elementary school teacher in Besançon; not quite ready to join the ranks of the dead and repatriated assistants yet.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

writing

It’s quite amazing how quickly time flies and how much I have (and have not) achieved since first arriving here. The photo journal I have kept so far gives a snapshot of my everyday life in a light and entertaining fashion albeit chaotic and limited. Now I hope to accompany these daily photos with hebdomadal writings.

And as you may have observed, I am not the greatest photographer nor do I really have a quality camera. So instead of pretending to be a regular Robert Doisneau, I ought to use my more schooled skills as a writer to better represent the fabulous life of an English assistant in France.

Hey, it's worth a shot.