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Published: February 4th 2008
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Any Disney fans catch the Hunchback of Notre Dame reference? This weekend, Carnival came to town, working its way up to a fever pitch that will terminate on Tuesday….Mardi Gras. In Pau, it’s the Carnaval Biarnes (Bernaise). Festivities include releasing a flood of pigs through the main drags of the town and crepe parties in Place Clemenceau. Christine and I were at “les Halles”, the market, when a whole Basque band marched through with drums, bagpipes made from sheep bladders, and trumpets. To say the least, it’s an unpredictable event. We also had a little celebrity sighting on our outing. Francois Bayrou, ex-presidential candiate, and current candidate for mayor of Pau, was just strolling along down the street next to us. I guess he didn't want to miss the carnival either.
The idea of Carnival is that everyone gets to pretend to be someone they’re not. As you might guess, this leads to a lot of dressing in drag, as well as several individuals in Sarkozy masks. You may recall me mentioning that the French don’t really do Halloween in a big way. Well, they certainly make up for it at Carnival. Except this is kind of like if Halloween
were celebrated as one massive acid trip. On Saturday, I went to the center of town to check out the “grand defile”, or the Carnival parade. Confetti was flying everywhere as people wandered through the roads in some of the most outrageous costumes I’ve ever seen. There didn’t seem to be a particular theme, as I walked past everything from human Christmas trees, to little girls dressed as Mulan (that was a popular one, for some reason), to spider man, to bulls and matadors. There were men on stilts juggling flaming batons, bands, floats, and did I mention Confetti? You would have thought it was snowing, honestly. The parade is given in honor of Sent Pancard, the human manifestation of Carnival.
Sent Pancard is the person responsible for everything that goes wrong in the world, according to the Bearnaise Carnivale tradition. So, every year they march him through the center of town in a grand revelry, and then condemn him to be burned. He’s excessive, self centered, and outrageous. His wife, Carronha, always dresses in black and represents all women subjugated and cheated upon, as well as the old women who are constantly hanging around the church, or the
Sent Pancard
riding through town on his way to be judged “frogs of the baptismal pool” as the French call them. Finally, there’s Quaresma, who represents the church and dreams of nothing more than persecuting pagans and infidels and dethroning Sent Pancard. After the parade comes to a close, everyone meets up at the Place de la Justice to watch the trial. For the first few minutes, I thought I must have breathed too many of the alcoholic fumes circulating through the air all around me, because I couldn’t understand a single word being said by the magistrates. Then, I realized it wasn’t in French, but Bearnaise. It didn’t really matter, because of course the outcome was already determined. They find him guilty and burn him every year, which does seem to take some of the surprise out of things, if you ask me. For some strange reason, Sent Pancard was also accompanied this year by a Britney Spears impersonator, complete with hot pink wig and school girl costume. The French have been pretty obsessed with watching her nervous breakdown. Maybe they blame it on Sent Pancard. Eventually, the trial was over, and Sent Pancard was hauled away in a cage to loud “hoo’s” (the French equivalent of “boo”).
Rather
than staying for the fireworks, I headed over to the Palais Beaumont for Laurence’s dance recital. She’s been practicing like a fiend for months now, and the effort certainly paid off, because the show was wonderful. It was called “Pas de deux en Russie”, and it was the Dance classes from Pau’s music conservatory performing with the city’s Women’s chorale. They told the story of Dimitri, a young Russian boy who travels into an enchanted forest to save his sick mother by finding the flower of life. Laurence played one of the witches, and her number was easily my favorite of the show. It was modern dance…very acrobatic and entertaining. The older dancers on their pointe shoes were impressive as well. It made me wish I were graceful enough to be a ballerina. The only annoying parts of the show were a) the little boy who played Dimitri, and managed to not change his facial expression for the entire 2 hours, and b) the dress they put on the “White Witch”, which was essentially a giant collection of folded toilet paper that crinkled and crackled clear across stage. Still, we were all immensely proud of Laurence, and it only took
her an hour afterwards to wash all the glitter out of her hair.
When we got back to the house, we had crepes, because it was Candelera. On Candelera, you have to flip a crepe with a coin in your hand in order to be rich for the year to come. I didn’t flip any crepes though; I just ate them. So maybe I won’t be rich, but I’ll be happy, and I can live with that. Sabine had just gotten back from Switzerland earlier that day, so we heard all about her trip. I’ve missed having her in the house, and I’m so glad she’s back. In addition to the Crepes, we had the brownies I’d baked the day before—another effort in my continued attempts to prove to the French that American cuisine can be yummy. The French are masters of many a culinary dish, but they cannot make a decent brownie to save their lives. This doesn’t stop them from trying, as they’re now popping up in every patisserie across the country, but they just can’t get the texture down. Something in their genetic coding causes them to end up with a “Molleux au chocolat” instead. Oh
Confetti!
This is what the road looked like after the parade well, we can’t make croissants, so I guess it all balances out.
With the exception of carnival, the week has been low key. On Wednesday I had Helen over for dinner to check out my new digs, which was fun. I made my almost-famous mushroom risotto and we chatted about the insane papers she has to write for Cambridge when she gets back…papers she has yet to start. I’m mostly just jealous that she goes to Cambridge. On Friday night I went and saw a film at the Melies called “le voyage du ballon rouge”, or “the voyage of the red balloon”. It sounded really interesting from the right up, but it turned out to be very artistic and pretty slow moving. Not a bad thing, but just not as much of a story as I’d expected. Juliette Binoche did a great job acting in it, and the little boy that played her son was Trop Chou! (adorable). There wasn’t a single guy in the audience though…all women.
Thursday was the last day the Swedish assistants were at Clermont. They had a party for the kids and made Swedish chocolate balls, which are made with oats and coated
Carla and Sarko
The French president and his new girlfriend paid us a visit with coconut. They also taught them some Swedish dances. My lesson was nowhere near as exciting because we talked about American politics, but the kids still made a valiant effort to understand the electoral college, (“Wait, you mean you don’t really vote?”) and they all love Obama. He’s very big with the French.
When I haven’t been teaching or cooking this week, I spent most of my time reading “Water for Elephants”. I would advise everyone reading this to go out immediately and pick up a copy of this wonderful, entertaining, and well-written novel. It read so quickly that I was quite literally surprised when I reached the end. I also recently read Gregory Maguire’s “Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister”, which I highly recommend as well. I’ve got some other good reads, but they’re in French, so I’ll spare you.
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bimbi
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Chocolate balls
Do you have a recipe for these? They sound good.