France in February

What we are doing...

February, the shortest month, stakes its claim in the year in some other interesting ways. On February 2, Chandeleur or Candlemas, the French eat crêpes. It’s a nice custom. The roundness of the crêpe acts as an homage to the sun and a reminder that spring is not far off. Of course, in the US, everybody waits for the groundhog’s prognostication on this day. If the sleepy animal comes out of his hole and sees his shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter. I think I prefer eating the buttery, sugary crêpes that Jairo brought home from the patisserie. Savoring this simple delicacy makes it easy to believe that temperatures will soon rise, flowers will bloom, and the sun’s rays will grow stronger once again.

Following Candlemas, on February 3, is the Feast of St. Blaise. As a boy living in Stanley, Wisconsin, I attended St. Ann’s Catholic School from first through fifth grade. Each morning we attended mass in the beautiful, brick church built by German immigrants with evocative statues of the Virgin, her mother, her son, and her much maligned husband, St. Joseph. The service began each day with one of the eighth graders reading the story of that day’s saint from a big red book, The Lives of the Saints. It was my favorite part of the daily ritual, learning about the various saints and martyrs, their bizarre and tragic deaths, and the wondrous miracles they performed.

St. Blaise Day was always marked in a special way with the Blessing of the Throats. Apparently, this 4th century bishop, having been a doctor previous to his conversion, cured a young boy one day who was choking from swallowing a fishbone. The fear of getting a fishbone stuck in your throat was ever-present in our family. My mother’s dad was an avid fisherman and we ate a lot of fish. Under the watchful eyes of my mother and grandmother, I never chewed anything so thoroughly as the mealy flesh of my grandfather’s freshly caught trout or crappies. At the end of the meal, a little pile of fine bones, pushed to the side, decorated each one’s otherwise empty plate. On St. Blaise day, I eagerly strode to the front of the church to have the two white candles, tied in a cross with red ribbon, placed at my throat, while the priest prayed that I would be spared from errant fishbones, choking, or vicious throat diseases. I wonder if there is a patron saint of sprained or fractured ankles? Author Paolo Coelho identifies Saint Roch as the patron saint of feet.

This year, in France, February has been the month of grèves (strikes). President Macron has put forward a pension reform package that advances the retirement age in France from 62 to 64. It’s a fairly conservative plan that Macron believes is necessary in order to save the French pension system from bankruptcy. However, the workers’ unions oppose the reforms vociferously as an attack on the French quality of life and are asking for the deficits in the system to be made up in other ways. Perhaps by taxing the rich? The unions have organized a series of one day strikes across the country accompanied by massive demonstrations. The frequency and size of the strikes has been growing all month and they are now scheduled to run into the month of March and become multi-day affairs, causing chaos in transportation, especially. The sanitary workers are also threatening to join the strikes. Spring could get hot and smelly around here very fast.

There was a time, growing up, when we had two school holidays in February: Lincoln’s birthday on February 12 and Washington’s birthday on February 22. I remember looking forward to those two days off from school and the disappointment when one of the days fell on a weekend. In 1971, they were consolidated into one Presidents’ Day, on the third Monday of the month, to celebrate all the Presidents’ birthdays. Of course, in France, we don’t celebrate the US Presidents, but the school kids begin their Winter Break next week. Two weeks free to travel, ski, hike, and enjoy the natural and cultural riches of this amazing country. Unless the strikes intervene…

As part of the Winter Break, we are planning to go to the UK—they are also experiencing a winter of strikes and shutdowns—to visit Jairo’s brother, Rafael, and his family in Nottingham for about five days. Kena, her husband Raphaël, and Léo will join us there for a long weekend. Being totally off any pain medication after three months and deftly walking around the apartment (without a boot) and the neighborhood (with a boot and canes), I’m excited for a change of atmosphere and to be able to raise a pint in the local pub in good company. In fact, in the company of two Raphaëls! The archangel Raphaël is the patron saint of healing. By the end of this trip, I should be in tip top shape. But I’m afraid the March newsletter will be a little late.

Speaking of good company, our dear friend, Linda Cuckovich, visited us as part of a well-earned vacation she took to Paris and the UK. Linda came to my rescue many times in the past to help with grantwriting in the dark moments when I could not imagine how I might possibly get things done. She always cheered me up and we finished the job. I was so happy when NWPL was finally able to pay her a small stipend for her service. Thank you, Linda, it was great to see you!

Three other ways that we mark February in France are with Mardi Gras (February 21 this year), Valentine’s Day (February 14), and Léo’s Birthday (February 16). Much like his abuelo, Léo’s birthday is a multi-day, multi-week affair—with at least four parties, various cakes, and lots of presents. He turns six this year and I think his epic Pokémon party for his friends and Japanese-themed party with his family (he’s really into sumo wrestling right now) will require their own posting. Watch for a special birthday newsletter this spring!

Paris Carnival 2022. Photo by James Slowiak.

Last year, we celebrated Carnival in Paris at Place de la République where there was a festive parade and dancing. We won’t get there this year, but here is how Paris joins cultures around the world to celebrate Mardi Gras in the carnival tradition.

Valentine’s Day is becoming more popular in France each year as a day to express your love for a special other. I found myself in the local chocolate shop, Julien Dechenaud, which was surprisingly deserted, but the salesclerk said it had been extremely busy off and on all day. I purchased a small box of ganaches parfumées—délicieux! Jairo came home with tulips and we ordered a fantastic Indian dinner delivered to our door. That’s February in Paris!

Crocus blooming in the park. Photo by Jairo Cuesta.