"I just met a wonderful new man. He's fictional, but you can't have everything."

1. Just saw Woody Allen's "The Purple Rose of Cairo," which was hilarious and weird and unexpected, in all the right ways. Probably most people are much more enlightened than I am and saw this movie ages ago, but if not, DO IT.


1b. So, about the last post's picture: I am under the table because of FRANCE! There is a tradition here of eating a certain kind of cake, called the "Galette de Roi," in which is hidden a tiny little figurine. Whoever gets the piece of cake with the figurine hidden inside is the king/queen of the feast. BUT if the cutter of the cake hits the figurine with his knife, and thus discovers where it is hidden, then someone has to get out of sight under the table and randomly assign pieces of cake to everyone in the room. Does that sound crazy? It's not crazy. It's French. But the line is not always distinct....

Two details that we willfully ignored: ONE! this is usually a tradition that happens on the first Sunday in January to correspond with Epiphany, which is also called Feast of the Kings, and that's about all I can tell you about its origins. The Wise Men arrive, they give Jesus some loot, and 2,000 years later we eat cake. We jumped the gun by eating it before Christmas holidays had even begun, but we had the excuse that I would still be in Canada on the proper day. Plus the excuse that the cakes were on sale at the super-discounted-end-of-the-line little grocery store down the street and we had empty stomachs when we came upon the display!

TWO! it is actually supposed to be the YOUNGEST who squeezes under the table for the assignment of cake slices, but somehow it ended up being me, the eldest. This is what happens when you are the clueless foreigner among a group of mischievous natives. But at least while I was down there I found my Batman Spinner that I had gotten in a box of Cocoa Puffs two weeks ago and then lost.

2. Students are striking today! Students! Striking!! It's like being in a modern "Les Mis," or maybe the 60s, complete with a precarious, touchingly authentic barrier made from garbage cans and wooden pallets.



The staff room is full of rage and amusement; rage that students will strike the minute they hear the word "reform" without turning over the rock to see what's beneath it, and amusement because classes are mostly cancelled and the coffee machine is on over-time duty.

I just hope that Strike Fever doesn't spread to the train system, which has been having teeny little regional strikes lately, though so far nothing that would keep me from getting to the airport on Thursday. But will I ever feel good when I am properly settled into a jumbo-jet economy seat for nine hours alone with my thoughts and an iPod full of christmas tunes.

3. Lara and Annabelle and I had a jolly little Christmas party last week at Annabelle's apartment, which has an OVEN, which means I made COOKIES and it was glorious. Unfortunately I added baking soda instead of baking powder, so they looked sort of plastic at the end, but whatever, they were cookies so we ate them anyway.


I really need to stop drinking and carrying on several conversations while attempting to follow a recipe...

Annabelle made Foie Gras, which, like the snails, surprised me with its greatness. Snails? Duck liver? What am I becoming!? It's almost like I'm developing tastes beyond pizza and brownies! Weird!!


Final food update: I made pancakes with the Little Dudes, and it was fantastic. It was also the first time I ever drank wine while eating pancakes and I LIKED IT.


Working with the LDs is a, uh, interesting challenge for me. It's hard to find the right balance between making sure they are interested and engaged, and making sure they are learning English. They are too young for drills and too old for classic fun & games. But I've got a new arsenal of teaching material to try out on them in the new year and hopefully they will progress, bit by hilarious bit, towards being confident speakers... at least now they know how to say "Pass me the Nutella"!

There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this photo.

Well, some kind of explanation, anyway.


And as soon as I have slept off the effects of yesterday's farewell party for Claire and Felipe, I will divulge.

EXPLOSIVE CHRISTMASSY FEELINGS IN MY BELLY!!! (or maybe that's just the rum)

Could tomorrow please be Christmas?

Okay, I don't really need to write ANYTHING about how great the Christmas vibe is in Lille, because this picture pretty much says it all:

Spicy mulled wine and a FERRIS WHEEL. I felt like a grown-up 25-year-old and a giddy 10-year-old all at the same time, and it was AWESOME. (warning: this post may require the use of LOTS AND LOTS OF CAPITAL LETTERS AND !!!! POINTS)

Lara and I started the madness at an afternoon art market, which was Overdose Number One. So many fantastic bags and buttons! So much handmade jewelery! Display after display of teeny, tiny clothing for tiny, tiny hipsters who haven't learned to walk yet! I died and woke up again in a child-rearing fantasy about thirty times (because kids aren't any work, right? you just get to dress them in miniature corduroy jackets and show them around at parties, right??).

The art market (took this shot for you, Jen... you would have LOVED it):


The art market was in Roubaix, which is a smaller town glued onto the edge of Lille like a piece of elbow macaroni. When we finally got to downtown Lille to check out the Christmas action, it was evening. Saturday evening. Which meant fifty thousand people, most of them tourists, squashed into the tiny Lille streets. MY tiny Lille streets. Seeing all those people, most of whom were tourists from Britain by the sounds of their accents, made me feel a surge of patriotism, or at least possessiveness, for my city.

Hey! Hoards of people! What do you think you're doing? Stop blocking my access to the mulled wine! I got here TWO MONTHS AGO! I earned this city!

The good news is that most of these tourists were nervous types and walked a wide circle around the Ferris wheel. Which meant we only had to wait twenty minutes to get the most terrifying/beautiful view of the city I'll ever have!

Lille, from above (way, way, stomach-turningly above):


I kept getting these little electric jolts in my soft tissue, and the thought kept crashing through my mind that THIS IS UNNATURAL. Human beings aren't meant to be sitting dozens of stories above the ground in a little metal bowl. And that's why, when we are foolish enough to do it anyway, our brain starts tipping all kinds of little panicky chemicals into the bloodstream to try and STOP THE MADNESS. But I had paid four euros and darn it if I wasn't going to ride in that metal bowl and take all the madness I could get!

This video is kind of lame, mostly because my camera does this weird focus-unfocus thing whenever I try to shoot film, but I think I captured one complete revolution on the wheel without dropping the camera into the crowd below and that deserves a showcase:




I am trying to make the Christmassy-ness last right through until next week, when I get into another very unnatural human contraption and cross the Atlantic yet again for a brief visit with the homefolks. My students are being very good sports about playing Christmas Jeopardy with me, and singing along to round after round of "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus."

Fishing for possibilities

In the ten minutes it took me to find my camera among the fifty million things I felt obliged to bring along on a walk (notebook, wallet, two pens in case one dries out, map, phone, spare batteries, compact, and deodorant, because you never know when you will need armpits that smell like lavender) the fisherman in the foreground caught three tiny, writhing fish. Each time he snagged one, he had to haul in that giant fishing rod, fist over fist, which took ages and impaled several pedestrians on the sidewalk behind him. Once he was within reaching distance of the fish, he slipped a knife out from behind his ear and sliced it free, then tossed it, flopping and flinging, into the cylindrical net in front of him. It was all done with such a businesslike detachment that I felt I couldn't look away.

I've got a blog post stewing about how fantastically over-the-top the Lille Christmas celebrations are (completely suited to Megan tastes), but just haven't had the time I need to post it. Meanwhile, some berries, which grow around the perimeter of Faidherbe and give me a little Christmassy shot to the arm every time I pass them by (even if I'm late for twenty appointments, forgot to wipe the stray smear of toothpaste from my chin, have non-lavender-smelling armpits, and can't seem to get my iPod working):

Progress, of sorts

The Citadel, two days after I arrived in September:

The same Citadel, seven days into December:

Three reasons why I love France

ONE.

TWO.

THREE!

Some things you do for money, and some you do for love (also to win points with your girlfriend's family)

Okay, so imagine your name is Lara, and you are supremely courageous because EVEN THOUGH you were living the good life in the US of A, you decided to come to France for a year to teach high school kids how to say "Obama is king" with a perfect accent. Coming to France meant saying goodbye to your long-time beau, Lucas, and EVEN THOUGH you and Lucas decided you'd get married once you're back from your temporary insanity, you find it pretty hard to endure the separation. France can be a lonely place sometimes (except for your super-awesome friend Megan!!).

but THEN!

on a dreary WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON!

there is a KNOCK on your DOOR!!! Who could it be?!

IT'S LUCAS!!!

Oh my goodness, I was SOOO glad he finally arrived, because that meant I could stop jabbing myself with a pen to make sure I didn't give away the surprise every time Lara was around. I think they had a good time together, and I EVEN think that she has fogiven me for lying to her about twenty million times in order to keep her unoccupied and in Lille for the week of his arrival. And he turned out to be super-cool, too. Not that I ever doubted he would be. We ate lots of pizza and drank lots of beer, which is my official bonding ritual with new people. In fact, the first time I ever hung out with Lara, we ate lots of pizza and drank lots of beer. Points for consistency!

Meanwhile, as the Ls were enjoying their brief respite from missing each other, I went to the Emergency Room.


But don't worry, it wasn't for an emergency! I was just having my brain examined by aliens. Aliens, and Felipe.

He's doing doctoral research and needs some subjects, which means putting your head in this thing:

and clicking a lot of buttons. It's definitely an easier way to make money than teaching!! Plus, we had a picnic, and I got to take a lot of pictures of everything, until Felipe confiscated my camera.

(Re. comments on the last post: Andrew, you ask some interesting Qs, and I will respond sometime soon!)

To the extent that it's absurd

I was doing this:

But soon I will be doing THIS!

and it will be AMAZING because I feel like I've only slept for a total of five seconds this whole week!

Change of subject: BEST PUMPKIN PIE EVER. Made by Lara.

Every time I write "pumpkin" I type "pumpking." What's that?? A verb? I am pumpking? What does it mean, to pumpk? Or maybe it's vegetable royalty. Long Live the Pump King! King of Pumps!

Less than a month until Christmas, and I'm waking up in the morning with "All I Want For Christmas is You" stuck in my head. Looking for any reason to be festive. Like making Christmas stir fry!!

Also, I think it should be IMMEDIATELY NOTED (in red ink, with plenty of exclamation marks) that tonight, thanks to Claire, I ATE SNAILS. Um, I mean .... ESCARGOTS. I tried to feel all French and sophisticated and not at all nauseous, but there were two problems: (1) we ate them while standing around the Faidherbe kitchen, which lacks something in both Frenchness and sophistication, but is more than abundant in nausea... and (2) all I could think about the whole time was the slime trail left behind a traveling snail.

But I ate THREE of them and didn't die, so I guess they aren't so bad. In fact... they might have even been a little bit good.

The snails, tactfully hidden beneath a layer of pesto and inside a pillow of pastry (which I think says something about how weird it is to eat a snail):

Eating snails for the first time in my life:

Hmmmm... not dead yet....

Lara is also still alive! That's all the proof I need. Snails are safe.

Verdict: I could hold my own at a Parisian wine & hors d'oeuvres, but I'd take a giant, greasy plate of poutine over a snail if given the choice. Canadian to the very end!

Jen + Poutine = why can't I have poutine in front of me this very second? And while I'm at it, why can't Jen be here, too?

If you want to read more about snails (who wouldn't?), I highly recommend Sharon's post about her husband, Rafa, and his unorthodox culinary tastes! And while you're there, you might as well read about his unorthodox (and thusly hilarious) storytelling techniques, all in one convenient post.

As a final note for the night: I MISS MY CAT. Sometimes, when I look at pictures of him (which is kind of often), it physically hurts.



Ouch!

Change is hard.

Not so far from Canada after all

It SNOWED! In LILLE! Land of eternal rain!!!!

It started coming down last night in damp, uncommitted flakes while I was at my friend Claire's house.

Attempt at an artistic snow shot under the glass ceiling:

After I took this picture I ran into the rest of our motley Faidherbe crew on the last metro home, and we frolicked like mad, thinking that by morning the snow would have disappeared.

Swarming around the streetlights at midnight:

But then! This morning!!

My groggy early-morning lope to the toilet became a meandering stroll outside, after I realized the dusting had survived the night...

Completely deserted campus.

Sigur Rós on the iPod.

Uh, bliss? You bet.


The only thing missing was the company of my favourite pooch for some romping and snow-flinging.

Hopefully all of that sub-zero air has jolted awake all the right neurons in my brain. Lots to get done today to ease the Mondayness of Monday!