fête des lumières

well! this was a big weekend for lyon. the first weekend of december marks the annual fête des lumières, a fairly recent tradition. but, as this is france, it was not just any weekend celebration but four days of festivities. though considering that 4 million visitors are crammed into the city in that time, it's really not all that long at all.

we began our explorations on friday night, starting at parc de la tête d'or which is usually beautiful in and of itself. it turned out to be rather disappointing. this (see left) was the best shot i could come up with. some of the trees were lit, there were some scattered lights in the distance, and there appeared to be some boats very dimly (and slowly) coming into focus. we lost patience and gave up. later others confirmed that there wasn't much to see here.

we pressed on. eventually we made it to the opera where we were surprised to find that it had only its usual red lights. but when we crossed over into the adjacent place des terreaux, we were not to be disappointed. certainly a centerpiece of the festivities, two of the long buildings making up the square - the hotel de ville (below) and the musee des beaux arts (right) - were the backdrop for a light show. the lighting was intricate and aligned precisely with the contours of each building which made it pretty spectacular. the show, which ran on a continuous 5-minute loop, centered around the 'little giant' who plays with his toys after his parents have gone to a party. complete with music and sound effects. it was amusing overall except for the point at which the child/giant puts out a fire by peeing on it. the french seemed amused; i think this is what contributes to their lackadaisical stance on public urination. that aside, the spectacle was lovely.

from there we crossed over the saone into vieux lyon where we expected to find some fantastic displays. we saw a decent light show (peppered with ads to ride the train) on the tiny gare st. paul and some 'bats' flying around in the windows of a nearby reformation church. what held most of our attention was the masses of people (read: tourists) and dozens and dozens of stands selling crepes, gauffres, tartiflette, hot dogs and of course delicious vin chaud (if you haven't had it, it's mulled wine spiced with cinnamon, citrus, and sugar). eventually we made it to the main church, st. jean, which was absolutely stunning. not only did the variegated lights hit every angle and niche of the façade, they even projected sculptures that (i imagine) would have once been carved into it.

now, onto night two. we began on rue de la république, the main pedestrian street running from bellecour to places des terreaux. it had a number of smaller displays, beginning with the shallow fountains (left) and spring-y lights in the trees. at one smaller square there was a display of 'flying fish' circling a fountain and being projected onto the nearby buildings. near the rhone, inside the hotel dieu (old hospital) there was a covering of colored lights accompanied by organ grinder music that the pictures didn't quite do justice. continuing on, we arrived at hotel de ville to discover that there was a light display inside it as well (at right). walking through it seems as though you're inside, under a ceiling of twinkling lights. only when the lights fade out do you realize you're actually in an outdoor courtyard. it sounds silly but it really was like a blanket of stars.

we continued on the presqu'île where we discovered a church (that i never knew existed) with a small show of its own. from there we reached the quai, where we could see both st. jean and fourviere on the hill lit up. this may have been my favorite view. i thought both churches were beautifully lit and to see them both and the river? come on. as we crossed the bridge we were accompanied by (in addition to many, many people) a small group playing native american music. we're still not sure of the significance/origin of this but it seems to be a constant at the festival. after crossing the river we marveled once again at st. jean and decided to walk up the stairs for a better view. from there we could see the church façade as well as bellecour's ferris wheel in the background. (we never did discover anything else going on in bellecour - strange for the largest square in the city). we decided to go for it and climb up to fourvière. the view of the city was nice but the view of the church from below was even better. they lit it beautifully, alternating between blue, pink/orange, and blue/green. also atop the hill were giant letters spelling out 'merci marie'. the origin of the festival, incidentally, is to thank the virgin mary for saving the city from the plague. she can also be seen atop the church (the gold statue to the left).

sunday was a day of rest. this is necessary in france as there is normally little open. we did, however, 'profiter' from the open-air markets. food, books, and crafts in the morning and christmas markets in the evening. as we tried to make our way up to croix rousse we were shocked to find that the number of tourists seemed to have multiplied. after bypassing three metro stops because of the lines, we were forced to squish our way past the overcrowded place des terreaux in order to make our way up the hill. we arrived at the rather small croix rousse christmas market which left us underwhelmed. though they did have a yurt, donkeys and sheep, and no shortage of chocolate. we decided to make our way down to perrache instead where we found a real marché de noël (above). the selection was bigger, with crafts ranging from africa to russia to south america and food from france and beyond (okay, mostly germany).

finally, monday night. traditionally this is the biggest night as the actual celebration is supposed to be on the 8th of december. according to the (free) local newspaper this is the night for the 'lyonnais'. this did not stop tourists from bombarding the train/metro stations, however. the people of the city are all supposed to light candles and put them in their windows in homage to the virgin mary. i bought my little candle and put it in the window like a good lyonnaise. nevermind that no one can see it way up on the 10th floor (i checked from the street).

the crowded streets and the cold made staying in very tempting but i decided to venture out for the last night of the fete. we began heading towards rue de la république, where we were led to believe there would be some kind of candle-lit display. there was, but it wasn't worth the walk back and forth across the bridge. this ended up being a mistake as there was something much better going on just across the river. by the time we made it to the lumière institute (fitting, i know) the firework/acrobatic show was just ending. it was probably the one disappointment in an overall exciting weekend. on the bike ride home, though, i did discover one more light display at one of the universities and saw candles in windows and balconies around the city.

overall i thought festival was wonderful and such a boon for the city (if a tad annoying at times). as for seeing all the light displays, i barely scratched the surface (there were over 50) but still i felt i fêted properly.

as i sit here in the candlelight with my tea and the window cracked open (don't worry, dad, i'm wearing a scarf) listening to the sounds of the city, it seems like a perfect end to a lovely little festival.

beaujolais! beaujolais! beaujolais!

last night marked the beginning of the new season of beaujolais wine. evidently it is one of few wines that actually tastes best when it's new. (i've also heard it's one of the worst wine regions in france). nevertheless, there are celebrations all over the beaujolais region, and lyon (being the biggest city in the region) was no exception. we arrived at 9:00 to find a small crowd and nothing happening. so we retired to a bar for a few hours and returned at about 11:30. the festivities began with the new wine being brought into town on a horse-drawn carriage. the barrel was adorned with a red cloth and some rather wimpy-looking tree branches. the horse/carriage were followed by people (rather wildly) waving lit torches, a huge marching band, and plenty of idiot tourists (such as myself) trying to snap pictures/not get trampled. it was a sight.

when they arrived at the clock tower they brought the new barrel of wine to join what i imagine was barrels of the old wine. then the spectacle began - showers of fireworks shooting out from behind the barrels, colored lights (and more fireworks) illuminating the clock tower, and of course terrible french techno music. they began a very snappy chant (see title) that fit in nicely with the music. then they count down and finally illuminate the giant '2008' at the stroke of midnight. it's a bit like new year's but about 10 months late. then the madness begins. they offer a 'degustation' of the new wine, gratuit, which evidently means everyone rushes forward and smashes into the person in front of them. some people were there for the wine, others just seemed to be there to encourage the madness. eventually, we got our samples and the crowd thinned out a bit.

and that was how we rang in the new year of wine.

écoles, élèves, et écriture

well after spending all of two weeks in the schools i have some (very deep i'm sure) insights and observations on the french school system.

first, the teachers are all addressed as 'teacher' (maître or maîtresse, which incidentally also means 'mistress'). kind of endearing, but it can get a little confusing. also, many of the rooms do not have clocks. the teachers tend to rely on students with watches, which seems like it could be a dangerous policy.

as you probably already know, the french take their relaxation very seriously. the french calendar, and school day, are no exception. the students have a half-hour recess in the morning and afternoon as well as a two-hour lunch break during which the students all go home and eat with their mothers. who are apparently all at home. what year is this?

it would be a long two hours if the teachers' lounges weren't so nice. there always seems to be tea and fresh coffee. several were also well-stocked with wine. go figure.

the final hurdle in bridging the american-french school system gap was communication. obviously the language barrier (read: my pitiable french) poses a problem. what i did not expect to pose a problem, however, was my handwriting. i feel obliged to mention that my handwriting, on the chalkboard or otherwise, has never been a problem in the US. but when i wrote in print on the board, i got blank stares and puzzled expressions. when i looked at their notebooks, i realized why. first of all, their notebook paper is actually paper that's probably designed for quantum physicists or architects; it's graph paper that's divided into millimeters (or something equally tiny), which is then grouped into lines. their handwriting (which they begin learning in cursive) is impeccable. (not an easy task considering they all write with fountain pens.) i tried to find a font it most resembled, but i couldn't find one fancy enough. i actually had to learn how to write in 'french' cursive.

not only are their notes impeccably well-written but they're incredibly well-organized. students always have a ruler at their desk (you know, for underlining, connecting the dots..) and several types of pens (fountain or ballpoint?) at their immediate disposal. when i ask them to write the date, i inevitably get 10 students who ask me where it should be in relation to the margin and another 10 who want to know "is this okay?"

i've yet to discover the ultimate goal of this extreme anal-retentiveness but the french have certainly got them well-trained.

tout neuf

just some observations and new experiences since i've been here..

food.

naturally, groceries are generally more expensive. the one exception is wine, which can run from as little as 1.96 € for a bottle. and it's french, so i figure it must be pretty good. (but then, who knows. i mean, i saw bottle shock) also hard cider (or, here, just cider), made from real bretagne apples. delightfully cheap.

the outdoor markets are more fun but the prices (as compared to the supermarché) seem to vary pretty widely. a nice gentleman also taught us about french milk. should you ever desire un-pasteurized milk, i can tell you where to go.

toilet paper.

for some reason toilet paper here comes in both white and pink varieties. they seem to be the same in every other respect, including price. yet for some reason everyone seems to opt for the pink. even young single men. i've yet to figure this one out.

music.

as you may imagine, only the worst american music gets imported here (currently topping the charts: that pink song and katy perry's delightful musings). and they apparently take only the worst from other countries as well. i've heard some pretty abysmal german and brit pop too. adding to the annoyance, the music videos seem to run in cycles of about 6, so you're sure to hear the songs again and again.

hospitality.

i couchsurfed! finally! this made the prospect of mundane errands in the very sleepy town of st. étienne all the more exciting. after a long day in the rain and cold we found mary paul's apartment. her apartment was very cozy and full of trinkets from her travels. she gave us slippers and fed us fish soup and pasta. it was heavenly! she topped herself by offering us spanish chocolates and tolerating our silly questions and broken french. (we spent about 10 minutes trying to pronounce 'chirurgie'). perhaps a 50 year old nurse from st. étienne was not the most dramatic of ways to begin my couchsurfing career. but she was very sweet. she probably didn't even know she was my first.

lyong update

well, this promises be quite a post.

actually i’ve been in lyon for about a week now. i’m getting by on my decent, if broken, french and there have been small victories…getting a cell phone, buying train passes, opening a bank account, and most importantly securing an apartment. there were a few days in limbo, one of which i spent with fellow assistants at the hostel who were/are also homeless for the time being. it’s a strange sensation, not having a place to go back to or just to put all your belongings. i don’t think i’ve ever felt quite so accomplished as when i removed my luggage from the train station locker and unpacked/arranged all my stuff (with its 3-week old wrinkles and faint smell of salt).

view from the window over my desk

the apartment i ended up in (the first one we looked at, in fact) is actually a student residence so it’s mostly filled with students at the university of lyon. it’s a two-room studio with a little kitchenette and a surprisingly nice view of the city (9th floor..). the location is pretty fabulous, right in front of metro and tram stops, one block from the river and a 10 minute walk from place bellecour, the central meeting spot/commercial center of the city. from there it’s only another 10 minutes to vieux lyon, the historic/touristy section, which happens to be where a lot of the bars are. handy when the metro stops running at midnight. there are also a lot of north african men who just seem to mill around the building selling things on blankets (yard sale??) during the day, so hopefully I’ll pick up some arabic along the way. i counted two arabic bookstores and two indian clothing stores. also a ton of “kebap” places and a few hookah bars.

i don’t actually start teaching until.. well, actually i don’t begin teaching in earnest until november. the area i’m working in (st. etienne, tiny little town renowned for its complete boring-ness) seems way behind the curve.. most other assistants have already begun teaching or have at least been to their schools. we have two meetings next week (where we will likely at least find out what/how many schools we’re at) followed by observations the next week, followed by a week and a half of vacation. ha! so.. no teaching until november.

in the meantime i’ve been exploring the city a bit (i got a nice tour yesterday from a french woman my roommate knows) and marveling that i get to live here. it’s really very pretty. and it has not one, but TWO rivers. which are not only charming but make it nearly impossible to get lost. if you find one, you know exactly where you are. for being a ‘big city’ lyon is actually very small. the rest of my time has been spent with other assistants at irish pubs (i know, i know). we don’t meet many french, but we have gathered a nice assortment of english, scottish, canadian and various others (polish? german?). i hear there’s another canadian who’s fluent in french and arabic…

(by the way my blogger account is still in hebrew and i can't figure out how to change it.. anyone..?)