Ludachristmas

The Christmas market in Lille

Christmas time in France is beautiful. After seeing all the sparkling holiday markets, the local Christmas festivals, and little kids in Santa Claus (or Papa Noel, as they call him here) hats, there's no way anyone could say the opposite. December in France is a time for family, foie gras, and something else I'm surprised to say: Christmas shopping. And INTENSE Christmas shopping at that.

You see, I thought capitalism was our thing. And if I ever forgot it, some French people that I've met have been sure to let me know that America is extreme (and articles like this only help to prove their point). But after having done my Christmas shopping in Lille among a swarm of desperate, crowded, deep-pocketed spenders, I must say, they're just as “bad” as us. Minus the pepper spray.

Last week I was in FNAC, a sort of Barnes & Noble book/media/music store, and the crowded 3-story building had a sign next to the check-out line saying “20 minute wait”. Two older women ignored the seemingly endless checkout line and went straight to the cashier before being redirected. I overheard the grandmas playing it off “Ooh,” one said acting confused, “We thought the sign said that the line started here.” They ended up getting sent to the back with the rest of us. Clearly the older ladies (and when I say older, I mean, 75+) were trying to get over on the system. But the fact is, the system, no matter how leisure and chill everyone tries to make it out to be, is just as intense as in the USA. It made me think, “Damn, they don't play in France.” Back of the line. No exceptions.

Haley and I enjoying vin chaud at the Christmas market--here's the recipe!

Two weeks ago I went to Paris and really wanted to pick up some things from the Champs-Elysees. The Champs-Elysees, a place I've experienced as being calm and romantic, was transformed in the Christmas-time intensity, into a sparkling mosh pit. An overstuffed road of out-of-towners eating crepes and drinking vin chaud (which when you think of it wouldn't be that bad if I wasn't trying to get some things done). So, it was a shopping fail. Sorry family, no gifts from Paris.

The Christmas folie has also spread to my work at the school. “Everyone is ready for Christmas break,” my runny-nosed colleague remarks, “The kids are getting antsy.” And it's true. There's been a few schoolyard scraps, some angry & overbearing parents, and a lot of teachers with colds/flus/unidentified sicknesses. I feel bad for the one substitute teacher, Thomas, who has replaced at least one teacher at our school every day this week. We were talking about how a bug is going around and he seemed surprised that everyone was coming down with something. I'm not surprised. Not one bit. If you saw how many nose and booty-picking kids run around my school you wouldn't be surprised either. The preschoolers are the worst. They have NO SHAME whatsoever. I almost took a video of one of my 4-year olds come to an abrupt stop mid-sprint to search the depths of his nose, but I decided that would be too bogus. Me and another colleague were just watching and cracking up: “He's so focused!” my colleague teased.

Another preschooler has literally crapped his pants every day this week. My jaw dropped, "WE'VE got to clean that up?!?" My coworker rolled her eyes in annoyance: "Yeeup, and he's done this everyday. I spoke with his mother and told her this isn't normal." I told the preschool teachers they need to stop giving him vegetables and start feeding him baguette, that should back him up a bit. So gross. 

I must say, in the end no matter how hectic Christmas time gets, everyone seems to remember that this is a time to come together and show our appreciation for one another. The retirement home where I live has a choir and they performed at our town's Christmas market. Here's a video I took of their performance last Sunday morning (don't judge the quality, I took it on my phone). Even though the vocals were nowhere near as good as Miriah on "All I Want For Christmas," or as entertaining as...well, paint drying, I was really happy to be there and support them...especially because once a week I hear them in the foyer practicing really hard. The point isn't that they sound good, it's that they wanted to share the Christmas spirit with the community. 

And I'm learning that the Christmas spirit, in all it's stressfulness, intensity, and sweetness is universal, I mean, at least between France and the US. 

Some more examples of the Christmas spirit in action: 

My kindergarteners and 1st graders singing French Christmas songs (terribly and cute) 

A poorly lit Christmas dinner I had with some of my best friends here

A band playing my town's Christmas market