It's only mid-March, but spring has arrived in Besançon! This past week has been absolutely gorgeous, with cool mornings and sunny, warm afternoons. I know that the change is official because the truck outside Parc Micaud switched from selling hot waffles to selling ice cream cones again. I noted the change when it was the reverse back in November, and this time I'm considering it a harbinger of the new season. I'm not sure if it's the good weather or the two weeks of vacation, but in general my kids have been very well-behaved this week. I've noticed that some of the students who don't normally pay attention or participate willingly seem to have a newfound motivation. Let's hope it continues through for the rest of my time here.
Further good news: I have a bike! It turns out that Steph and Charly's former roommate/renter left it here when she moved out last summer and has never come back to get it (they've tried to contact her numerous times because she has continued to receive mail, in particular a couple of angry-looking bills). I had to find a bicycle tire pump and a helmet, but now I'm all set. I am, however, still missing a bike lock. Charly has one for his bike, but lost the key, so it's not much good to me. And unfortunately I can't really ride my bike to work until I find one, because Planoise is a prime area for bikes to be stolen (not that they're really safe in the centre ville either). At home it's locked in a shed attached to our building. I'm hoping to borrow one, because purchasing one for only six weeks seems a little silly. Being able to ride to school and back every day would be a good supplement to my running program, and a way to further enjoy the beautiful weather!
On the literary front, today I finished part I of Les Misérables! I finished it during the 15-minute recess this afternoon and loved every last bit. I bought part II this afternoon on my way to tutoring. I had to look in three different bookstores until I found one which sold part II, at which point I was beginning to get the impression that noone ever actually reads the second half). So now I have only 887 pages to go -- a full 26-page economy on the last part. I really hope to finish it before I leave Besançon on April 25.
Some of you may be wondering if and when I am ever coming home. The answer is yes, but the when is a little more complicated. I'm leaving here for Berlin on April 25, where I will spend five days with a friend whom I interned with two summers ago. Then on April 30 I'll leave for and hopefully arrive in Washington, D.C. (by way of New York), where I will spend a week with Claire (yay!) Then on Monday, May 7, I will fly home by way of the Dayton airport, in time for Trey's graduation from Vanderbilt which is that Friday. I am very excited to see my family and friends again so soon!
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Weekend in the Country
This past weekend I went to visit my host family, who lives in Dijon. But the blog post isn't titled "Weekend in Dijon" because we actually spent most of our time at and around the moulin (mill) that they purchased last summer and where they're planning to build a home. It was a wonderful weekend -- incredibly relaxing and peaceful.
I left Saturday morning and got into Dijon around 11am. We left for the Moulin du Chêne (the name of their mill, "Oak Mill") shortly afterward with Noëlle's friend Sophie, who was also visiting for the weekend. Sophie and Noëlle have been friends since they went to university in Paris together; now Sophie works for a French company's office in Shanghai and only comes back to France once or twice a year. It was a little overcast, but warm when we left Dijon.
We stopped and had lunch at a little restaurant in one of the nearby villages. I anticipated light café fair, but it ended up being a 5-course meal with amuse-bouche, appetizer, entrée, cheese course, dessert and coffee. All delicious! Then we made a quick stop to say hello to Belby, the little baby donkey who will eventually live at the Moulin du Chêne, who Orane named after one of the characters in Harry Potter (if you don't remember who he is, all the info is here). Belby the donkey is still quite timid and won't take apple pieces from our hands. She is so adorable when she prances around on her tiny hooves!
Then we walked down the dirt road to the moulin and spent about an hour wandering around the site and just enjoying the sunshine and the tranquility. I took lots and lots of pictures, but here are just a few:
Then around 6pm we headed back to Dijon, by way of an antiques shop that Noëlle and Joseph stumbled upon a few months ago and from which they bought an armoire. The shop is run out of one of the little barns of an old (think 17th or 18th century) farm owned by a couple. The "barn" which houses the antiques is stone and not much bigger than a single room, but just one of many buildings on the sprawling property. The couple and their two kids don't even live in the main part of the house, but rather in what used to be the wool-spinning workshop. The main house is technically inhabitable, but Isabelle, the wife, explained that the renovations necessary to make it truly livable are too expensive . She actually explained this on Sunday, when we went back to pick up the lamp that Sophie bought when we went to look on Saturday. Sunday we ended up staying for lunch and spending a good chunk of the afternoon there! But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Dinner on Saturday night was a simple affair, after the feast that was lunch. Noëlle doesn't like to eat the biggest meal of the day in the evening anyway, so this wasn't a big change. We had a simple but delicious salad and some cheese. By some, I mean 10 different kinds. To be fair, one of them was the Parmesean Reggiano slivers to go on the salad and another was the cancoillotte au vin d'Arbois which I brought along as a gift. So really, they had only planned on 8 cheeses. When we realized just how numerous our selection was, I decided to take a photo:
My favorites were the Saint Félicien (middle right in the picture, with the green label sticking out from under the top right corner of the cheese wheel), which apparently comes from a region down near Grenoble, and the fromage fort (literally "strong cheese," center of the picture in the cylindrical container with red on the label) which was sort of like a tangy and dense greek yogurt. I asked if it's ever called anything else, but apparently that's it.
Then on Sunday morning I went for a run before breakfast. For those of you who heard, I was injured for pretty much all of last week; I strained a muscle in my right thigh and, although I had no pain while walking normally, absolutely could not run. So I had to take nearly a full 7 days off, which was a little discouraging because I had planned to really get in shape during the vacation. As of Friday it was feeling much better, and I ran that afteroon without a problem. The run on Sunday morning was both part of my routine and a chance to explore Dijon for the first time since I lived there in 2009. As far as I can tell everything is exactly the same, except for all of the construction barricades for the tram. I ran by my host family's old house, the restaurants where I used to eat with the other Wake kids, the maison diocésaine where we had our French art class (not that I expected that to have changed), the hotel where we stayed when we first arrived before we met our host families, etc. Then after breakfast we headed out toward the moulin, with the plan to first stop and pick up Sophie's lamp.
It turns out we never made it to the moulin. We ended up sharing our lunch with the couple who owns the antiques shop (although it was mostly them sharing with us, since Noëlle had brought among other things a meat pie, and everyone in the family is a vegetarian). One of the things they shared with us was a delicious homemade cassis nectar, a very thick juice made from blackcurrants.
By the time we finished lunch it was nearly 3pm and still overcast, so we decided to skip the moulin and instead check out the Château de Bussy-Rabutin, a castle not far from the moulin. Although in the present day the area around the moulin is sort of the middle-of-nowhere, in the 17th century that was not the case. There were many château and estates in the area, and the economic activity required to sustain a château meant that there were plenty of workers living in the villages around them.
Château de Bussy-Rabutin is particularly interesting because of its interior decoration. Its most notable proprietor, Roger de Bussy-Rabutin, was exiled from the court of Louis XIV, for, among other things, writing a book called Histoire amoureuse des Gaules which exposed all of the illict court romances, including those of the king's favorites. 17 years of exile makes for a lonely count, so he decided to bring the court to his château and commissioned portraits of all of the important people at court, especially those he didn't like. Then he amused himself by writing humorous or biting captions about their reputations underneath each of the portraits. These take up not just the salon, but the bedroom, a long hallway, and a tower. There are possibly more, but those were the only ones I saw in the part of the château we were allowed to visit. And even though they're written in an Old French, we could still understand them and most of them were really funny!
Other parts of the château I found interesting: the pigonnier, a tower specially-built to house the count's pigeons. Apparently they were a sign of wealth in this era, and based on this picture you can tell Roger de Bussy-Rabutin was a pretty wealthy guy:
Also, the fruitier. In French, the place where they fabricate cheese is called a fruitier, and I've never understood why. Apparently, a fruitier was originally a place specially-designated to ripen fruit. The word is used in the context of cheese because it serves the same purpose: a place for cheese to ripen! I love it when linguisitic puzzles suddenly come together like that.
Well that was my weekend, I got back around 7pm on Sunday and Monday was my first day back to classes. I hope all of you are having a great week!
I left Saturday morning and got into Dijon around 11am. We left for the Moulin du Chêne (the name of their mill, "Oak Mill") shortly afterward with Noëlle's friend Sophie, who was also visiting for the weekend. Sophie and Noëlle have been friends since they went to university in Paris together; now Sophie works for a French company's office in Shanghai and only comes back to France once or twice a year. It was a little overcast, but warm when we left Dijon.
We stopped and had lunch at a little restaurant in one of the nearby villages. I anticipated light café fair, but it ended up being a 5-course meal with amuse-bouche, appetizer, entrée, cheese course, dessert and coffee. All delicious! Then we made a quick stop to say hello to Belby, the little baby donkey who will eventually live at the Moulin du Chêne, who Orane named after one of the characters in Harry Potter (if you don't remember who he is, all the info is here). Belby the donkey is still quite timid and won't take apple pieces from our hands. She is so adorable when she prances around on her tiny hooves!
Then we walked down the dirt road to the moulin and spent about an hour wandering around the site and just enjoying the sunshine and the tranquility. I took lots and lots of pictures, but here are just a few:
Then around 6pm we headed back to Dijon, by way of an antiques shop that Noëlle and Joseph stumbled upon a few months ago and from which they bought an armoire. The shop is run out of one of the little barns of an old (think 17th or 18th century) farm owned by a couple. The "barn" which houses the antiques is stone and not much bigger than a single room, but just one of many buildings on the sprawling property. The couple and their two kids don't even live in the main part of the house, but rather in what used to be the wool-spinning workshop. The main house is technically inhabitable, but Isabelle, the wife, explained that the renovations necessary to make it truly livable are too expensive . She actually explained this on Sunday, when we went back to pick up the lamp that Sophie bought when we went to look on Saturday. Sunday we ended up staying for lunch and spending a good chunk of the afternoon there! But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Dinner on Saturday night was a simple affair, after the feast that was lunch. Noëlle doesn't like to eat the biggest meal of the day in the evening anyway, so this wasn't a big change. We had a simple but delicious salad and some cheese. By some, I mean 10 different kinds. To be fair, one of them was the Parmesean Reggiano slivers to go on the salad and another was the cancoillotte au vin d'Arbois which I brought along as a gift. So really, they had only planned on 8 cheeses. When we realized just how numerous our selection was, I decided to take a photo:
My favorites were the Saint Félicien (middle right in the picture, with the green label sticking out from under the top right corner of the cheese wheel), which apparently comes from a region down near Grenoble, and the fromage fort (literally "strong cheese," center of the picture in the cylindrical container with red on the label) which was sort of like a tangy and dense greek yogurt. I asked if it's ever called anything else, but apparently that's it.
Then on Sunday morning I went for a run before breakfast. For those of you who heard, I was injured for pretty much all of last week; I strained a muscle in my right thigh and, although I had no pain while walking normally, absolutely could not run. So I had to take nearly a full 7 days off, which was a little discouraging because I had planned to really get in shape during the vacation. As of Friday it was feeling much better, and I ran that afteroon without a problem. The run on Sunday morning was both part of my routine and a chance to explore Dijon for the first time since I lived there in 2009. As far as I can tell everything is exactly the same, except for all of the construction barricades for the tram. I ran by my host family's old house, the restaurants where I used to eat with the other Wake kids, the maison diocésaine where we had our French art class (not that I expected that to have changed), the hotel where we stayed when we first arrived before we met our host families, etc. Then after breakfast we headed out toward the moulin, with the plan to first stop and pick up Sophie's lamp.
It turns out we never made it to the moulin. We ended up sharing our lunch with the couple who owns the antiques shop (although it was mostly them sharing with us, since Noëlle had brought among other things a meat pie, and everyone in the family is a vegetarian). One of the things they shared with us was a delicious homemade cassis nectar, a very thick juice made from blackcurrants.
By the time we finished lunch it was nearly 3pm and still overcast, so we decided to skip the moulin and instead check out the Château de Bussy-Rabutin, a castle not far from the moulin. Although in the present day the area around the moulin is sort of the middle-of-nowhere, in the 17th century that was not the case. There were many château and estates in the area, and the economic activity required to sustain a château meant that there were plenty of workers living in the villages around them.
Château de Bussy-Rabutin is particularly interesting because of its interior decoration. Its most notable proprietor, Roger de Bussy-Rabutin, was exiled from the court of Louis XIV, for, among other things, writing a book called Histoire amoureuse des Gaules which exposed all of the illict court romances, including those of the king's favorites. 17 years of exile makes for a lonely count, so he decided to bring the court to his château and commissioned portraits of all of the important people at court, especially those he didn't like. Then he amused himself by writing humorous or biting captions about their reputations underneath each of the portraits. These take up not just the salon, but the bedroom, a long hallway, and a tower. There are possibly more, but those were the only ones I saw in the part of the château we were allowed to visit. And even though they're written in an Old French, we could still understand them and most of them were really funny!
Other parts of the château I found interesting: the pigonnier, a tower specially-built to house the count's pigeons. Apparently they were a sign of wealth in this era, and based on this picture you can tell Roger de Bussy-Rabutin was a pretty wealthy guy:
Also, the fruitier. In French, the place where they fabricate cheese is called a fruitier, and I've never understood why. Apparently, a fruitier was originally a place specially-designated to ripen fruit. The word is used in the context of cheese because it serves the same purpose: a place for cheese to ripen! I love it when linguisitic puzzles suddenly come together like that.
Sophie, Joseph, and Noëlle!
Well that was my weekend, I got back around 7pm on Sunday and Monday was my first day back to classes. I hope all of you are having a great week!
Friday, March 9, 2012
Five Ways to Tip Off French People That You're American (or at least not French)
This morning I had breakfast out at a little café (long story) and was inspired to write this blog entry. I hope you like it -- and Besançon friends, feel free to leave your opinion in the comment box.
1. Smile with top AND bottom teeth
This is probably the single biggest tip-off, because smiling with only the top set of teeth is more of a European thing in general than just French. Also, if you're from the Midwest or the South, more likely than not you smile at everyone whom you make eye contact with on the street -- here a dead give-away that you're not a native.
This came up at the Friz'Bistonins Christmas party before winter break, and here Colin and I are demonstrating the difference. Notice how I look awkward in the first and he looks downright pained in the second:
Then TéTé and Alex decided they would demonstrate the difference too:
<-- Natural smiles
"American" smiles -->
2. Leave a tip after buying only a single beverage
Leaving a tip is certainly expected at a nice restaurant for dinner, where the service is presumably more involved, or at a bar if you've been there for a while. But servers are paid proportionally more here, and their livelihood is less dependent on tips, so not leaving a tip, especially for something very small, isn't rude like it would be in the States. So leaving a 50-cent tip on a 3.50 coffee and pastry will certainly be appreciated, but don't be surprised if as you're leaving, the server asks you casually, "So, where are you from?"
3. Ask for coffee WITH your meal
3. Ask for coffee WITH your meal
Big, big no-no. Coffee is an acceptable order at pretty much any time or morning, day, or night, except during a meal. This is probably because when you order a regular coffee here, what you get is much smaller and much stronger than the typical cup o' joe served in restaurants in the US. The flavor is intense enough to mask most other flavors, so it's sort of like dumping salt and pepper on the plate you are served; you're saying the flavor of their food is so lacking or unpleasant that you don't mind masking it with the super-strong flavor of coffee.
4. Say "I'm sorry"
This one is a bit more complicated, but certainly the one I commit the most out of the list. "I'm sorry" would be translated into French a couple of different ways: "Je suis désolé(e)" (as in, "I'm sorry I'm late), or "Excusez-moi" (as in, I'm sorry I stepped on your foot), or "Je suis navré(e) d'apprendre que..." (as in, I'm sorry to hear you broke your leg). Just plain "désolé" is probably the one I use the most, and tend to use in the context of when I would say "sorry" in the U.S. : sorry about that uncatchable pass I just threw you on the Frisbee field, sorry you missed your bus, sorry you have a lot of work tonight... But either French as a language is less sympathetic or I use sorry too much, because I frequently get funny looks. When I ask what I said wrong, people often reply with the question "Why did you say sorry, it's not your fault?" It's not that I was necessarily claiming fault with my initial sorry, just expressing my sympathy for whatever unpleasant situation arose. But apparently this is a huge tip-off.
5. Ask for butter to go with your bread (unless it's breakfast), or, god forbid, your croissant
No no no no! First of all, butter is probably the foundational element of French cuisine. Asking for more in almost any context is like saying, "Please oh please, my arteries have a death wish!" And if you've ever attempt any French recipes, you'll learn Paula Dean's homeland could just as easily be Franche-Comté as the good ol' South. But I think this aversion to butter on bread is because bread usually serves another role in the meal. For instance, in the morning, it goes with coffee or tea, and the flaky crustiness is a nice contrast with the strong coffee. At lunch or dinner, it's used to mop up the rest of the delicious sauce which covered your main dish, and as a conduit for cheese. This isn't to say that French bread isn't perfectly delicious on its own, but usually it's eaten in conjunction with something else, and unless it's breakfast and you're out of jam or Nutella, that something else is almost never butter.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Who Says Vacations Have to Be Lazy?
So this past weekend was part of the academic "winter break," but I certainly didn't laze around. Saturday morning Colin, Franzi, Franzi's two friends Gavriel and Joanna and I left for Chapelle for what was my second day of real cross-country skiing. The warm weather this past week has caused lots of the snow to melt at the ski stations near Besançon and there was talk of this being the last good weekend for snow. So Friday night we decided to take advantage of the opportunity and go! We got on the road a bit later than planned (nearly 10am) and some traffic jams in Pontarlier meant we didn't get to the ski rental place until nearly noon. Luckily Chapelle is small and so the time to rent skis, drive to the start of the trails, and get going was probably 15 minutes total. It was another gorgeous day! 50+ degrees and sunny, with a few clouds and not too much wind.
Unfortunately Gavriel didn't take to cross-country skiing (it was the first time for him, Joanna and Franzi) and after only a few minutes on the first run he decided he didn't want to continue. The rest of us did a short 4.5km loop, then met up with him for lunch. Franzi, Colin and I headed back out again after lunch and we ended up doing another 21km in less than 4 hours! By the end we were totally exhausted (we fell for the classic rookie skier mistake and picked the longer route each time we had a choice, then ran out of energy with another 5km to go).
I felt much more confident on my skis this time around and we tackled much more challenging trails with bigger descents and steeper climbs. Franzi was a champ; it was her first time cross-country skiing and she picked it up right away. I didn't fall once until late in the afternoon, then proceeded to take a major face-plant going down a hill (fatigue?) But overall it was a great success! I'm so glad we got to go again before the snow melted!
Then yesterday (Sunday) I had an all-day riding stage (clinic). This was my first all-day stage, I did a morning one back in the fall. This one was much better, although we had a few hiccups in the beginning (it took everyone a little while to get organized, so we weren't on the horses until after 10am, then the instructor's son fell off his bike while on his way to the barn and started screaming like he had broken his femur... it took Béa, the instructor, a little while to calm him down). But overall it was great! I got to ride 3 different horses: Luivafer, Quadrille, and Roxy. Quadrille is the horse/pony who is my usual mount. She's built like a large pony, but I'm positive she's technically too tall to be considered one. I had ridden Luivafer before and knew he was fun, although he was pretty wild at the beginning. We got to ride outside, which was a pleasant surprise!
The stage is basically four lessons, back-to-back, with a break after the second for lunch: mise-en-scène jumping (warm-up for jumping), jumping, lunch, mise-en-scène dressage, dressage. The idea is that you have four different mounts, one for each section, but I ended up riding Quadrille for jumping and mise-en-scène dressage. The ability level was more homogenous this time, which I think was part of the reason the stage was more pleasant. We were still quite numerous: 15 in the morning and 12 in the afternoon. The coolest part for me was that I got to jump a butte (bank) for the first time with Quadrille. I've never really done any eventing, and so jumping solid obstacles is intimidating for me anyway, let alone going down one! These pictures (photo credit to Wikipedia) will make it clearer:
Quadrille was great and handled both the ascent and descent like a pro (she's a recent addition to the barn and Béa had no idea if she'd ever done this before, which wasn't reassuring for me). Having the horse "fall" in front of me was a really strange sensation, but not entirely unpleasant and now I have a better understanding of how eventing could be a huge adrenaline rush.
The stage really did take all day, and I was quite sore at the end (we did posting trot without stirrups for what seemed like an eternity, and THEN did two-point with no stirrups, which should actually be classified as torture). I feel surprisingly good today, but let's face it, typing this blog entry isn't really stressing my legs. I hope all of you had equally-wonderful weekends!
Unfortunately Gavriel didn't take to cross-country skiing (it was the first time for him, Joanna and Franzi) and after only a few minutes on the first run he decided he didn't want to continue. The rest of us did a short 4.5km loop, then met up with him for lunch. Franzi, Colin and I headed back out again after lunch and we ended up doing another 21km in less than 4 hours! By the end we were totally exhausted (we fell for the classic rookie skier mistake and picked the longer route each time we had a choice, then ran out of energy with another 5km to go).
I felt much more confident on my skis this time around and we tackled much more challenging trails with bigger descents and steeper climbs. Franzi was a champ; it was her first time cross-country skiing and she picked it up right away. I didn't fall once until late in the afternoon, then proceeded to take a major face-plant going down a hill (fatigue?) But overall it was a great success! I'm so glad we got to go again before the snow melted!
Then yesterday (Sunday) I had an all-day riding stage (clinic). This was my first all-day stage, I did a morning one back in the fall. This one was much better, although we had a few hiccups in the beginning (it took everyone a little while to get organized, so we weren't on the horses until after 10am, then the instructor's son fell off his bike while on his way to the barn and started screaming like he had broken his femur... it took Béa, the instructor, a little while to calm him down). But overall it was great! I got to ride 3 different horses: Luivafer, Quadrille, and Roxy. Quadrille is the horse/pony who is my usual mount. She's built like a large pony, but I'm positive she's technically too tall to be considered one. I had ridden Luivafer before and knew he was fun, although he was pretty wild at the beginning. We got to ride outside, which was a pleasant surprise!
The stage is basically four lessons, back-to-back, with a break after the second for lunch: mise-en-scène jumping (warm-up for jumping), jumping, lunch, mise-en-scène dressage, dressage. The idea is that you have four different mounts, one for each section, but I ended up riding Quadrille for jumping and mise-en-scène dressage. The ability level was more homogenous this time, which I think was part of the reason the stage was more pleasant. We were still quite numerous: 15 in the morning and 12 in the afternoon. The coolest part for me was that I got to jump a butte (bank) for the first time with Quadrille. I've never really done any eventing, and so jumping solid obstacles is intimidating for me anyway, let alone going down one! These pictures (photo credit to Wikipedia) will make it clearer:
Quadrille was great and handled both the ascent and descent like a pro (she's a recent addition to the barn and Béa had no idea if she'd ever done this before, which wasn't reassuring for me). Having the horse "fall" in front of me was a really strange sensation, but not entirely unpleasant and now I have a better understanding of how eventing could be a huge adrenaline rush.
The stage really did take all day, and I was quite sore at the end (we did posting trot without stirrups for what seemed like an eternity, and THEN did two-point with no stirrups, which should actually be classified as torture). I feel surprisingly good today, but let's face it, typing this blog entry isn't really stressing my legs. I hope all of you had equally-wonderful weekends!
Carnival in Basel, Switzerland!
Toujours en retard...
[always late]
Again, a week late. But I think these pictures will be worth the wait. Last Monday morning I left bright and early for Basel, Switzerland to go to the Carnival celebration there (I was invited by one of the families I tutor). I have to say, it was probably one of the most surprising and unique experiences I have had so far during this adventure abroad. Fasnacht, the Swiss-German name for this annual three-day festival, is the highlight of the year in Basel. There are lots of different things to see over the three days, but the main event is the non-stop parade, or Cortège, which begins at 4am on Monday morning with the Morgestraich and ends at 4am on Thursday morning.
If you've done your math correctly, you know that this Carnival celebration began on the Monday after Ash Wednesday. Why do they celebrate Carnival when it's technically already Lent? Before the Protestant Reformation, the Basel Carnival took place before Ash Wednesday like everywhere else. But once the city officially separated from the Catholic Church, the city officials wanted to make sure their Carnival tradition was distinct from the Catholic ones, so they moved it one week later. Of course all of this isn't really a big deal today since the festivities are no longer connected with the church at all, but I was curious about the timing, so I thought you might be too.
Anyway, the parades were really cool, sort of like New Orleans Mardi Gras meets Halloween meets 4th of July parade. The locals call it die drey scheenschte Dääg (the three most beautiful days). I arrived in Basel around 11:30am, checked into my hotel, and then headed down to the city center to explore. The parade takes a short break between the late morning and 1:30pm on Monday (for the people who were up at 4am), and although there was a definite bustle, the streets were practically empty compared to the crowds which would come later. You can see the difference in these two photos, both of the Rathaus (townhall) and then Marketsplatz (market square) in front of it.
Taken around noon:
Taken around 4:30pm:
There are four major groups who participate in the parades: cliques, gugge (marching bands), floats, and schyssdräggziigli.
Cliques can vary in size, but have at a minimum a vortrab (vanguard), pfeifer (piccolo players), a tambourmajor (drum master), and tambouren (drum players). Each clique picks a theme and usually all of the members are dressed in the same or similar costumes. The themes varied from the bizarre to completely ridiculous. Many were variations on clowns, but I saw a snowman-themed clique, a Russian doll-themed clique, an Occupy Sesame Street-themed clique and multiple Smurf-themed cliques. Most people join one clique as an adolescent or young adult and remain a part of that group for the rest of their life. It's also common for children to join the same clique as their parents, but there's no rule requiring people to stay in the same clique or join a particular one. Occasionally when a clique wore masks exposing the back of their heads, I could see quite a few gray-haired members.
Each clique also decorates its own "lantern." During the day they look more like giant rectangular canvases, but at the beginning of the Morgestraich they are all illuminated at once for the start of the parade. The city turns off all of the lights for the Morgestraich and apparently it's a fairly magical moment when all of the lanters light up at once. The lanterns are part of the clique's theme, and they can be light-hearted or deeply political.
The gugge, or brass bands, also dress up, and their costumes can be equally ridiculous.
The floats were probably my favorite part of the parade. On the large trailers (wagge) are Waggis, an affectionate spoof on the Alsatian farmers who used to bring their produce to market in Basel. The Waggis throw down candy, oranges, flowers, little toys, and random produce (carrots and cabbage were the most common, but I saw someone almost get beaned with a leek). The Waggis also throw confetti on the bystanders. They were often devious, and would tempt bystanders with a flower or handful of candy and then surprise them with a fistful of confetti. These Waggis were practically malicious, and I got a few photos of them stuffing confetti down people's hoods:
And these Waggis had a bathtub full of confetti in which they would dunk innocent bystanders...
More Waggis:
Part of what made the parade so interesting was the bizarre mix of innocent silliness and political commentary, youthful playfulness and vaguely inappropriate revelry. For instance, I saw a couple of floats with bars built into the bar (vodka on tap?) and some of them had penis-shaped pacifiers among their racks of toys to hand out. But in general, it was more of a Disney parade than New Orleans Mardi Gras bacchanal. I found the contrasts really interesting though. Also notable: the parade Tuesday afternoon was the kids' parade, and there were many more child participants and young bystanders during this parade (almost all of the above pictures are from the parade on Monay).
Last but not least, schyssdräggziigli. These are non-clique small groups or individuals who wander around playing music with piccolos or drums or both. They are in costume too:
So, I bet you're wondering, are there any foods associated with this colorful, musical festival? It turns out yes, but don't get too excited yet. The three foods of Fasnacht are Mehlsuppe (flour soup), Zwiebelwähe (onion tart) and Fastenwähe, a caraway-seed pretzel meant to be eaten with beer. Of the three, I tried mehlsuppe and if you are ever offered any, I suggest you politely refuse. This is what it looks like:
Basically it's flour, a little bit of butter, a little bit of onion, and water. Yuck. Not to knock Fasnacht, which as you can tell was pretty fantastic, but they should really work on their culinary specialties... What about beignets? The French are all about them during Carnival, and they're much tastier!!
So I spent pretty much all of Monday watching the parade with the family who invited me, and then had dinner with the mom and her friend who lives in Basel. On Tuesday morning I went to an exhibit of Pierre Bonnard's work at the Fondation Beyeler, a museum just outside of the city. Pierre Bonnard was a French painter who was part of the group called the Nabis at the end of the 19th century/early 20th century.
This painting of his, entitled Place Clichy, was done in the early 20th century. Normally it is displayed at the art museum in Besançon, but it was part of the exhibit in Basel. I think it's really neat not just because I like the painting itself, but because the perspective is from the inside of a café located at Place Clichy in Paris, a café called Café Wepler where my family and I ate while we were in Paris over Christmas.
Then in the afternoon I watched more of the parade and just wandered around Basel. It was really cool how with the constant parade and the music-filled air, I felt entertained just sitting on a bench beside the Rhine river, like this one (in the background is the Münster or main church of the city).
The big lesson I learned from this experience was to pay more attention to festivals and local celebrations when planning trips. Don't get me wrong, Basel is a cool city (famous for its art scene), but outside of this really unique and amazing festival, it would probably fit into the mold of most European cities of a similar size... lots of churches, old city walls and towers, museums, etc. This festival gave it a unique character and a magical atmosphere... I would certainly consider going back just to see it all again!
[always late]
Again, a week late. But I think these pictures will be worth the wait. Last Monday morning I left bright and early for Basel, Switzerland to go to the Carnival celebration there (I was invited by one of the families I tutor). I have to say, it was probably one of the most surprising and unique experiences I have had so far during this adventure abroad. Fasnacht, the Swiss-German name for this annual three-day festival, is the highlight of the year in Basel. There are lots of different things to see over the three days, but the main event is the non-stop parade, or Cortège, which begins at 4am on Monday morning with the Morgestraich and ends at 4am on Thursday morning.
If you've done your math correctly, you know that this Carnival celebration began on the Monday after Ash Wednesday. Why do they celebrate Carnival when it's technically already Lent? Before the Protestant Reformation, the Basel Carnival took place before Ash Wednesday like everywhere else. But once the city officially separated from the Catholic Church, the city officials wanted to make sure their Carnival tradition was distinct from the Catholic ones, so they moved it one week later. Of course all of this isn't really a big deal today since the festivities are no longer connected with the church at all, but I was curious about the timing, so I thought you might be too.
Anyway, the parades were really cool, sort of like New Orleans Mardi Gras meets Halloween meets 4th of July parade. The locals call it die drey scheenschte Dääg (the three most beautiful days). I arrived in Basel around 11:30am, checked into my hotel, and then headed down to the city center to explore. The parade takes a short break between the late morning and 1:30pm on Monday (for the people who were up at 4am), and although there was a definite bustle, the streets were practically empty compared to the crowds which would come later. You can see the difference in these two photos, both of the Rathaus (townhall) and then Marketsplatz (market square) in front of it.
Taken around noon:
Taken around 4:30pm:
There are four major groups who participate in the parades: cliques, gugge (marching bands), floats, and schyssdräggziigli.
Cliques can vary in size, but have at a minimum a vortrab (vanguard), pfeifer (piccolo players), a tambourmajor (drum master), and tambouren (drum players). Each clique picks a theme and usually all of the members are dressed in the same or similar costumes. The themes varied from the bizarre to completely ridiculous. Many were variations on clowns, but I saw a snowman-themed clique, a Russian doll-themed clique, an Occupy Sesame Street-themed clique and multiple Smurf-themed cliques. Most people join one clique as an adolescent or young adult and remain a part of that group for the rest of their life. It's also common for children to join the same clique as their parents, but there's no rule requiring people to stay in the same clique or join a particular one. Occasionally when a clique wore masks exposing the back of their heads, I could see quite a few gray-haired members.
Each clique also decorates its own "lantern." During the day they look more like giant rectangular canvases, but at the beginning of the Morgestraich they are all illuminated at once for the start of the parade. The city turns off all of the lights for the Morgestraich and apparently it's a fairly magical moment when all of the lanters light up at once. The lanterns are part of the clique's theme, and they can be light-hearted or deeply political.
(Harry Potter-themed clique... the house elves are pulling the lantern and there were piccolo and drum players representing each of the four houses)
The gugge, or brass bands, also dress up, and their costumes can be equally ridiculous.
The floats were probably my favorite part of the parade. On the large trailers (wagge) are Waggis, an affectionate spoof on the Alsatian farmers who used to bring their produce to market in Basel. The Waggis throw down candy, oranges, flowers, little toys, and random produce (carrots and cabbage were the most common, but I saw someone almost get beaned with a leek). The Waggis also throw confetti on the bystanders. They were often devious, and would tempt bystanders with a flower or handful of candy and then surprise them with a fistful of confetti. These Waggis were practically malicious, and I got a few photos of them stuffing confetti down people's hoods:
And these Waggis had a bathtub full of confetti in which they would dunk innocent bystanders...
More Waggis:
Part of what made the parade so interesting was the bizarre mix of innocent silliness and political commentary, youthful playfulness and vaguely inappropriate revelry. For instance, I saw a couple of floats with bars built into the bar (vodka on tap?) and some of them had penis-shaped pacifiers among their racks of toys to hand out. But in general, it was more of a Disney parade than New Orleans Mardi Gras bacchanal. I found the contrasts really interesting though. Also notable: the parade Tuesday afternoon was the kids' parade, and there were many more child participants and young bystanders during this parade (almost all of the above pictures are from the parade on Monay).
Last but not least, schyssdräggziigli. These are non-clique small groups or individuals who wander around playing music with piccolos or drums or both. They are in costume too:
So, I bet you're wondering, are there any foods associated with this colorful, musical festival? It turns out yes, but don't get too excited yet. The three foods of Fasnacht are Mehlsuppe (flour soup), Zwiebelwähe (onion tart) and Fastenwähe, a caraway-seed pretzel meant to be eaten with beer. Of the three, I tried mehlsuppe and if you are ever offered any, I suggest you politely refuse. This is what it looks like:
Basically it's flour, a little bit of butter, a little bit of onion, and water. Yuck. Not to knock Fasnacht, which as you can tell was pretty fantastic, but they should really work on their culinary specialties... What about beignets? The French are all about them during Carnival, and they're much tastier!!
So I spent pretty much all of Monday watching the parade with the family who invited me, and then had dinner with the mom and her friend who lives in Basel. On Tuesday morning I went to an exhibit of Pierre Bonnard's work at the Fondation Beyeler, a museum just outside of the city. Pierre Bonnard was a French painter who was part of the group called the Nabis at the end of the 19th century/early 20th century.
This painting of his, entitled Place Clichy, was done in the early 20th century. Normally it is displayed at the art museum in Besançon, but it was part of the exhibit in Basel. I think it's really neat not just because I like the painting itself, but because the perspective is from the inside of a café located at Place Clichy in Paris, a café called Café Wepler where my family and I ate while we were in Paris over Christmas.
Then in the afternoon I watched more of the parade and just wandered around Basel. It was really cool how with the constant parade and the music-filled air, I felt entertained just sitting on a bench beside the Rhine river, like this one (in the background is the Münster or main church of the city).
The big lesson I learned from this experience was to pay more attention to festivals and local celebrations when planning trips. Don't get me wrong, Basel is a cool city (famous for its art scene), but outside of this really unique and amazing festival, it would probably fit into the mold of most European cities of a similar size... lots of churches, old city walls and towers, museums, etc. This festival gave it a unique character and a magical atmosphere... I would certainly consider going back just to see it all again!
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Les Nuits de l'Alligator
Again, I'm really behind on my posts. This one refers to a concert I went to last Thursday with an eclectic group of friends from Besançon: Franzi (German, from Ultimate), Candice (American, English Teaching Assistant), Kati (Austrian, Candice's roommate), Linda (French, Kati's friend from the Fine Arts department of the university where she's taking classes), Jack (British, another English Teaching Assistant, but we know him through Kati), Andrea (American, another assistant, who works at the same high school as Jack), and Jack's friend Sebastian (also British, also an English Teaching Assistant, but in another part of France and who was visiting for a few days).
We met for a drink before the concert and then walked to La Rodia, a very-recently-constructed concert space along the Doubs. I run by it practically every time I go out for a run, and have always wanted to go to a concert there. I heard about this one, which featured three different groups who all played folk-50s/60s rock and roll, and invited as many people as I could. (I took the picture of La Rodia below back in early November).
It ended up being really good. We missed the first group, but made it in time to hear the second act: Lindi Ortega, who was great (her voice reminded me a lot of Brandi Carlisle). She was wearing a hat/veil just like this at the show...
Then the main act was Kitty, Daisy, and Lewis, who I loved! The band name is composed of the first names of its three primary members, who are all siblings, and whose parents play the bass guitar and the stand-up base in the band. The three siblings all play the drums, the guitar, the bass, and sing vocals (interchangeably) and Kitty plays the harmonica.
It was pretty wild! I would classify their music primarily as 50s and 60s style rock, which is just the kind of music I like to dance to. It's funny, because I wasn't aware of this until recently, but there seems to be a strong indie rock following in Europe which greatly resembles the music of the 50s and 60s. The part that's funny is that the bands and their groupies also dress like they're in the 50s and 60s. So I found myself in a crowd with plenty of guys wearing Letterman jackets and with slicked back hair. I felt like I was on the cast of Grease! Totally bizarre, but infinitely better than ripped denim skirts or sagging jeans... It would be pretty funny if those fashion trends came back in full force. I'm certainly not a huge fan of the suite/tie combo on Lewis in this pic of the band... Click here if you want to hear one of the songs I liked by Lindi Ortega, and here for one of the songs by Kitty, Daisy, and Lewis.
We met for a drink before the concert and then walked to La Rodia, a very-recently-constructed concert space along the Doubs. I run by it practically every time I go out for a run, and have always wanted to go to a concert there. I heard about this one, which featured three different groups who all played folk-50s/60s rock and roll, and invited as many people as I could. (I took the picture of La Rodia below back in early November).
It ended up being really good. We missed the first group, but made it in time to hear the second act: Lindi Ortega, who was great (her voice reminded me a lot of Brandi Carlisle). She was wearing a hat/veil just like this at the show...
Then the main act was Kitty, Daisy, and Lewis, who I loved! The band name is composed of the first names of its three primary members, who are all siblings, and whose parents play the bass guitar and the stand-up base in the band. The three siblings all play the drums, the guitar, the bass, and sing vocals (interchangeably) and Kitty plays the harmonica.
It was pretty wild! I would classify their music primarily as 50s and 60s style rock, which is just the kind of music I like to dance to. It's funny, because I wasn't aware of this until recently, but there seems to be a strong indie rock following in Europe which greatly resembles the music of the 50s and 60s. The part that's funny is that the bands and their groupies also dress like they're in the 50s and 60s. So I found myself in a crowd with plenty of guys wearing Letterman jackets and with slicked back hair. I felt like I was on the cast of Grease! Totally bizarre, but infinitely better than ripped denim skirts or sagging jeans... It would be pretty funny if those fashion trends came back in full force. I'm certainly not a huge fan of the suite/tie combo on Lewis in this pic of the band... Click here if you want to hear one of the songs I liked by Lindi Ortega, and here for one of the songs by Kitty, Daisy, and Lewis.
Skiing with the kiddies
So it turns out that two Saturdays ago wasn't my last time down near Chapelle... Last Tuesday, February 21st, I went along as a chaperone with two classes of CE2 (3rd graders) for a day of cross-country skiing. Actually, it was more like a day of picking small (or not so small) children up out of the snow. But I was prepared for that, and agreed to go along because it sounded like fun. It turned out to be more like Type 2 fun -- an analogy Claire introduced to me a while ago and which I have whole-heartedly embraced. The quick summary: Type 1 fun is fun at the time. Type 2 fun is fun in retrospect. -- This day of "skiing" definitely fits the profile of the latter. The pic below was taken from the bus window en route to the ski station.
The event took place during the school day (in theory we were supposed to be back by 4:30pm, we actually got back closer to 5:15pm). We left on a big coach bus around 9am, with all of the kids wearing their combinaisons (snow suits) and boots and hats, etc. They were pretty adorable. I believe there were 39 kids, plus Anne-Sophie and Nathalie (the two teachers -- see pic below), 4 SUAPS students (students in the sports program at the university who helped with PE at the school), and Florine, who is my age and an aide for one of the students in Nathalie's class.
The itinerary said we were going skiing in Mouthe, which is 87km (or 54 miles) south-east of Besançon. It turns out we were actually skiing at a place called Le Pré-Poncet, another 6 km further south. So, by the time we arrived, unpacked the kids and got everyone into their skis, it was nearly 11:30am. There were two instructors from the rental center who were in charge of teaching the kids... but unfortunately they didn't explain the basics before giving the kids all of the gear and telling them to give it a try first on their own. Big mistake. We had kids and skis flailing all over the place! Only after everyone had fallen a half-dozen times and struggled to right themselves again did the instructors explain the proper technique for getting up again. I wish they had done this before giving the kids their skis, because it would have saved me a lot of arm work hauling the kiddies up out of the powder.
Luckily it was a really glorious day... brightly sunny and not cold at all. It was a bit of a tease though, to be so close to the trails but not really able to ski. We never actually went on any of the trails! After lunch the instructors led the kiddies up and down two gentle hills, and cut wide circles in the big field in front of the rental chalet, but we didn't go on the trails.
The classes is going back for two more sessions in March after the winter break, so I imagine it will be much easier the next time and they will probably do more. If I'm invited I think I will politely decline... in theory it was a day off, but really it was more like work, except with less chalk and more snow!
The event took place during the school day (in theory we were supposed to be back by 4:30pm, we actually got back closer to 5:15pm). We left on a big coach bus around 9am, with all of the kids wearing their combinaisons (snow suits) and boots and hats, etc. They were pretty adorable. I believe there were 39 kids, plus Anne-Sophie and Nathalie (the two teachers -- see pic below), 4 SUAPS students (students in the sports program at the university who helped with PE at the school), and Florine, who is my age and an aide for one of the students in Nathalie's class.
The itinerary said we were going skiing in Mouthe, which is 87km (or 54 miles) south-east of Besançon. It turns out we were actually skiing at a place called Le Pré-Poncet, another 6 km further south. So, by the time we arrived, unpacked the kids and got everyone into their skis, it was nearly 11:30am. There were two instructors from the rental center who were in charge of teaching the kids... but unfortunately they didn't explain the basics before giving the kids all of the gear and telling them to give it a try first on their own. Big mistake. We had kids and skis flailing all over the place! Only after everyone had fallen a half-dozen times and struggled to right themselves again did the instructors explain the proper technique for getting up again. I wish they had done this before giving the kids their skis, because it would have saved me a lot of arm work hauling the kiddies up out of the powder.Luckily it was a really glorious day... brightly sunny and not cold at all. It was a bit of a tease though, to be so close to the trails but not really able to ski. We never actually went on any of the trails! After lunch the instructors led the kiddies up and down two gentle hills, and cut wide circles in the big field in front of the rental chalet, but we didn't go on the trails.
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