All Five Senses

We held our second annual Transhumance cookout on Monday.   The Transhumance is where sheep are paraded through town before moving to higher pastures for the summer. 

During the Transhumance you See the sheep, Hear the sheep, Smell the sheep (hard to avoid the smell of 2,000 sheep), and, if you want, Touch the sheep.  

Ok, that’s four senses.  Guess what we had for lunch?

We invited a dozen friends, six French and six American.  Hardly anyone knew each other and half the people only spoke one language.  What could possibly go wrong?

Actually, pretty much nothing.  It was downright wonderful.  The sun was shining, the food was great, everyone was charming, and I made sure the gathering was well “arrosé” (watered), as the French say.

We ended with a pétanque tournament – two semi-final matches and then a grand championship.  Sara, who has either been practicing a lot or has been doping with the Russian team, captained the winning side.  

We’ll see if she can defend her title next year when I’m off of Injured Reserve.

Action photos below.

KVS

Val and Jonathan in the kitchen

Christian mans two grills

We're hungry!

Mike shows good form

Better call the referee

Sara admires her shot

The winning team celebrates

And the crowd goes wild!

Tatars and Cheese

Last night was one of the highlights of the year:  the Eurovision finals!

Eurovision is sort of a combination of American Idol and the Olympics.  Each country in Europe selects a team to compete for Best Song, with 26 countries making last night’s final round. 

Over 200 million people watch Eurovision, though I have yet to meet anyone who will admit to it. This is because many of the acts are cheesy.  Like, really cheesy.  Why do you think I look forward to it every year?

I have to say that the level of cheesiness was down a bit this year.  There was no bearded lady, no man running inside a giant hamster wheel. (Listen to me – I’ve only watched it for a few years and already I’m complaining about how much better it was back in the day.)

But I still enjoyed it.  Who doesn’t love watching an Italian singer belt out her number while standing on an island covered with giant flowers, like something straight out of Oz?  Or a Polish singer dressed like a refugee from Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band?

The cheesiest was Azerbaijan, a country you can always count on for cheesy.   Last year the Azerbaijan backup singers were bare-chested guys writhing on the ground wearing dog collars and leather leashes.  This year the backup singers included two bare-chested guys prancing around in football pants and gold-lamé shoulder pads.  

It seems like Azerbaijan is into the kinky stuff.  Must not be a lot to do there at night.

The scariest was definitely Cyprus, with a Death Metal band and lots of flames shooting around.  The singer looked he had just escaped from prison, maybe one of those Aryan Brotherhood guys.  At one point he just howled like a wolf into the microphone.  The rest of the band was locked inside a giant steel cage, which was probably for the best.  

Remind me to avoid Cyprus.

Going into the finals, the overwhelming favorite was the singer from Russia.  His song was average but the graphics displayed behind him were spectacular.  It must have taken some nerd many hours in front of the computer screen to design them.  Now we know how Edward Snowden has been keeping himself busy during those long Moscow winters.

But in a stunning upset, Russia finished third.  I think it was the doping allegations that did them in.

Australia came in second.  I am still trying to find Australia on a map of Europe.  But then, we Americans have always been bad at geography.

The big winner was Ukraine, with a song about how the Tatars were brutally expelled from Crimea by the Russkies.  Political songs are banned at Eurovision so the singer couldn’t actually name who the bad guys were.  Instead, whenever she sang the line about “and my grandmother suffered” she would turn and glare at the Russian singer.  We got the point.

The big loser was Germany, who finished dead last for the second year in a row.  Next year they can go for the trifecta!

KVS 

I think that's Tom Brady on the right

Poster boys for Cyprus tourism

And you wonder why Germany lost?

The Waiting Game

I had an X-ray and follow up visit with my doctor today.  He told me that everything looks good and that the pain and stiffness in my wrist will eventually go away.  I explained that raising a wine glass up to my lips and down again always makes me feel better and he agreed that it is excellent therapy.

Val and I were at the hospital for several hours, much of it spent in waiting rooms.  We had to wait for the X-ray to be taken, wait for the results to be printed, wait for my doctor, wait for invoices, etc.  We must have been in and out of waiting rooms half a dozen times.

Which means we had to follow the official French Waiting Room Protocol.  Failure to do so can result in fines or – even worse - suspension of your pain au chocolat privileges.

What is the Protocol, you ask?

When someone enters a waiting room, they must say hello to the people already there.  There’s no slinking in and just taking a seat – no, no, that would not be polite.

You can simply say “Bonjour” as you enter, but that’s only for those who were not well raised.  Much better is to tailor your greeting to who is already in the room.

If there is just one man in the waiting room, you should say “Bonjour, monsieur” as you enter.  For multiple men it’s “Bonjour messieurs.” 

A single woman gets “Bonjour madame” while for several women it’s “Bonjour mesdames.”

For a room with both genders, you use the complicated dual-gender greeting “Bonjour messieurdames.”

This means that every time you enter a waiting room you need to do a quick scan before you know what to say.  This can be tricky if there’s a gentleman with long hair or a man purse. 

And I have no idea what to say if someone is transgendered, but I’m sure the good people of North Carolina have this figured out.

And then there is the responding.

Not only do you say hello when you enter a waiting room but everyone already there says hello to you in return.  One of the rooms today was pretty full so every time someone walked in and said, “Bonjour messieurdames”, they got a room full of people saying “Bonjour” in return.

It reminded me of second grade when Mrs. Wilson would say “Good morning class” and we would all say “Good morning Mrs. Wilson” in unison.

If you spend a lot of time in waiting rooms, as we did, you say an awful lot of hellos.  Val got so good at it that the lady sitting next to her thought she was French and asked her opinion of one of the doctors. 

Or maybe she thought I was French because I was so engrossed in a French fashion magazine.

One has to stay up on the latest styles, after all.

KVS

President Who??!!

We frequently find ourselves being asked about Donald Trump.  The questions tend to take the form of, “Are you people insane?”

We try to put it in a context that our friends can understand.  We talk about the rise in France of the Front National, the far-right party of Marine Le Pen.

The FN is a populist party that draws its strongest support from those who globalization has left behind, especially blue-collar workers whose jobs have moved overseas.  FN supporters feel that the country’s elites have ignored their plight for years.  They have no faith in politicians. 

The FN advocates a policy of economic protectionism, closed borders, and “France for the French.”  Marine Le Pen is a demagogue who channels her followers’ resentments and encourages their sense of victimhood.  She has a special talent for finding scapegoats, with her favorite being immigrants.

The FN has done well in recent elections and Le Pen has a reasonable shot at being elected President next year.  This scares the dickens out of the political establishment and many French citizens.

Does any of this sound familiar?

So we’ve made a deal with our friends.  If Trump is elected, we will fly to France and move in with them.  If Le Pen is elected, they will fly to California and move in with us. 

And if they both win?

Well, Canada is a nice bi-lingual country that we could all enjoy.

KVS