The festival is almost over; the last performance is tonite. Some of the groups have already left, the Hungarians, the Yakuties, maybe the Albanians, whom I haven't seen today, perhaps also the Slovakians. The group at lunch was much smaller than before, although the bread on a fork game still continues. I wonder if any of the groups will take this new tradition back to their countries and perpetuate it. It's such a nice one, and at the least, lots of folks here have internalized the typical French greeting of a kiss on each cheek. Also, it's morphed a bit in that people aren't always giving the bread to someone of the other gender, either because they didn't reallize, or because they just preferred, for whatever reason, to choose someone of the same sex.
Last night was the Nuit d'Esprits, Night of the Spirits. Although I was very tired, I went, with most of our group. The South Afrikans, who are they favorites of lots of us, were supposed to be performing, along with the indigenous Venezuelans. It was at a pretty little park I hadn't been to, away from the festival grounds, and was preceeded by a parade of all the groups. Waiting for them to start, I found out from others in my group that the Venezuelans weren't Venezuelan at all, but two Brazilian men from the Amazon, brought in when the Venezuelans couldn't get visas. I felt pretty stupid never having understood that. But I felt much better today when Lucie, who is French, also said she'd thought they were Venezuelans too, as it said in the program.
In any case, they arrived in full feathered regalia, lit a fire, chanted for a while, then got up a bunch of people, formed a circle, started chanting with the locals, moving around the fire in a circle. It went on for a long time. As much as I wanted to like it, it wasn't very interesting and I kept falling asleep, even having dreams. Or maybe it was a shamanistic experience. It was also very cold, and if I felt cold, I wonder how these two young Amazonians, wearing a lot of feathers but not much of anything else, felt.
My group eventually decided to leave. It turns out the South Africans never did perform last night, because it was too late and too cold! But they are performing tonight, at the last show. I'm glad. They are not just one of my favorites, but one of the favorites of the festival, and a good note on which to end things. The Maoris also seem quite popular. I like them but with some reservations, not so much about their performances as about their attitudes. I will try to save some time to write more about this, after I relate more of yesterday's experiences.
Lunch was my last meal at the school cafeteria, which ends service tonite. I have my working shift at the African restaurant at the festival tonite, so won't be at the schoo; tonite. Which is fine, especially since things are winding down and it feels a little sad there. I'm so glad to have my last working shift at the restaurant, because it's one of the best places to work. I worked there yesterday lunch, too. The restaurant is called Chez Helene, and it is indeed Helene who runs the show. She is part Togo heritage, part Niger. This is her 15th year running the restau, as they say. Helene is quite the character. She is very warm and friendly, and lound, but can also be kind of bossy. One day I asked if I could help cut the pineapple, and someone cautioned me, no, Helene likes to do that.
Yesterday, I sliced and chopped ginger for the first couple of hours. It was made into ginger juice, which is actually the ginger blended with orange juice, and maybe something else. It's pretty good. When we arrived yesterday, most of the kitchen staff were wearing dashikas and other African garments, from Helene's booth next door. So Helena (my Czech co-worker) and I were promtply brought over to the booth where about 4 women spent about the next 15 minutes discussing which outfits and hats we should wear. Helene was one of the women, though you'd think she'd be busy preparing food for the noon rush. Later, after all the ginger was done, the line was getting pretty long ordering food at the stand. I had never done the service, only the prep, so tried to get a quick crash course from Helena, the Czech volunteer. She'd only just started doing it an hour before. There were four things on the menu, Accra, which are fried fish balls, Couscous Royale, a fish dish and a chicken dish, both of whch had names but which I never internatlized. You took the order, then folks paid while you got the food on a tray for them. There was one spot where someone served up the couscous and rice, and another for the actual dishes, which were in huge pots.
So, first order, a little nervous, I went up to the counter and asked what they would like to order. The answer, 5 orders of couscous, 3 of fish, then more but I lost track after that. Luckily, one of the other servers, who is there every day, helped me with the order. After that, the rest were pretty straightforward, usually just a couple of orders at a time, not eight plus whatever else, some accra I guess, and drinks.But the line was long, and we servers were lining up at the couscous/rice and meat stands, waiting to have the plates filled. At one point there were 5 of us backed up. Finally, one of the servers said to Helene, who was discussing something with one of the cooks, and with whom it seems you don't mess with, Helene, you need to serve us. There are people waiting. Helene had seemed oblivious of both us and the customers lined up.
After the lunch rush, three hours into our four hour shift, things calmed down, and we took a break to have lunch ourselves. I'd had the chicken and couscous on my other shift earlier on. So this time I tried the fish, which I think was the best of all.
The only things we've really had to pay for here are ice cream, crepes, waffles, and fries, and of course alcoholic drinks, and even on those we buy tokens at the bar and get a discount.
I think most of the jobs here have been great, even though there have been some scheduling issues and times when we arrived and there was nothing to do for a while. But considering the scope of the festival, I find that really minor, although some people in the group have been more frustrated about that.
Most peoples' complaints seem to be about the lack of organization, and about the bathroom facilities. Personally, I find the toilet and shower facilities here far better than the one I had in Paris last year (one shower for 28 people) and in Peru, where there was one toilet-shower which was the same little outdoor stall, so only one or the other could be used at a time, and it was perhaps three feet from our dining table.
Onto some other impressions of yesterday: the Africans were drumming at the outdoor stage, when who comes along but Pepe, with his own djembe drum, and starts playing with them. This isn't a jamming session, but a performance, on a real stage, and I am impressed with his chutzpah! Pepe has intrigued me all along. He's such an interesting mix of brazen and cuddly puppy dog. I'm so mad that my camera battery chose that moment to die. Yesterday we wrote project evaluations, and since they were all on the table, some of started reading the others and guessing who had written them. For what we liked the least, Pepe said that he hasn't yet gotten a French girl to kiss him! He does,by the way, have a girlfriend back in Barcelona, but told us that while he was away, things could happen.
Oh, I forgot to add, Pepe was supposed to be on points tri (recycling stations) duty at the time.
Lots of people were dancing to the South Africans plus Pepe drumming. They ranged from older couples to children to a woman who did a combination of African anad bellydance moves, very well, although there was something a little over the top about her moves. The young French guys at the table between her and me were snickering. Then there was a boy, about 10 or 12,kind of gawky, with glasses, who got up and began imitating the dancing woman's moves, combined with the fierce face and stuck out tongue of the Maoris. I just burst out laughing.
Another image - at the African booth next to the restaurant yesterday, one of the women wanted to braid my hair. She hadn't had any customers all morining, and we were joking about how I could parade around with a sandwich sign afterwards. But I wasn't particularly interested in having cornrows or extensions. next thing I knew, one of the burly construction heads, half bald, was sitting in her seat while she added braided extensions to his sparse hair. He's well known at the festival, and lots of people were coming by and cracking jokes. I did get some good pix of that!
Back to the Maoris. I have been speaking to some of them, particularly one man, who seems friendlier than the rest. I also found out, at lunch one day, that he was married to one of the women in the group, and they have their four children with them. He told me that there are actually about 30 in the group, of which just 8 are here. He told me the group is really impressive when they all perform, which I am sure is true. They are interesting enough just the 8 of them. What is especially interesting to me is the combination of their fierce grunts and faces and moves, with the very melodic and harmonic songs they sing. I really would like to know more about what's behind both the music and the grunting and chanting, but don't know if I'll have another chance to talk to them.The music is really beatutiful, a little reminiscent to me of both Hawaiian music and gospel.
But what i've noticed most about the Maoris is that they seem somewhat chauvinistic. For instance, they mentioned to me that they have s huge festival of just Maori music, etc. every year in NZ, much bigger than the festival here in Gannat. And the tone was just a little superior, as if implying that this festival wasn't as good.
I can understand that a culture that has been repressed might naturally have a degree of attitude toward the mainstream culture that has reppressed them. But, for one thing, the people here aren't the people who repressed them.
What bothered me the most, though, is that the same man, the one who's been friendly, also said to me that his group can perform quite a variety of shows, long and short pieces, not like some of the groups here, who just do the same thing over and over again. It isn't really true, I've seen each group mulitple times, and they all have as much variety as his does. (except for the Brazilians, who really do do the same thing over and over!) But the Brazilians are some people's favorites. The variety and range is what makes the festival interesting. If was just surprised that this Maori man would express his negative feelings about other groups. That's not what this festival is about.
Well, that's it for today. A tout! (ie, a tout a l'heure, see you soon.
.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Hip Hip Hoorah!
I've been meaning to use that as a heading for an entry here for days. It's what Jean Roche, the creator and director of the festival, who also created the Auvergne folk dance group that performs her, says, at the end of each act of every show. Actually, he says the hip, hip, and the entire audience shouts, Hurrah, me included.
The festival is winding down, and I am starting to feel sad, as I knew I would. Some of the performing groups are already leaving. Two of our group members are leaving tomorrow as well, although the rest of us still have two days here to help with the knockdown. It is truly incredible how many people I have met here, including the group members, the performers, and the volunteers, of which there are hundreds. Because our group circulates through the festival and thru the various responsibilies we have probably gotten to know more people than most volunteers, who have responsibilities in just one area.
Right now I am at the Maison du Folklore, my home away from home. It's where I have access to the computer, at least at times, and also where the kitchen and restaurant are where the repas typique have been prepared and served. It's just a quick walk from our campground, whereas the festival site is a good 20 minute walk. It's comfortable walking it night or day, no safety concerns, except the darkness if I forget to take my flashlight.
A few minutes ago, there was some group singing and playing just outside the door here. I think it must have been the Hungarians, because I had seen them loading up their vehicles a little earlier. It's just typical of the whole event, people spontaneously, or at least informally, singing in the street, promanading in their costumes outside the festival grounds, etc. And, in the streets of the small downtown, music from the festival is played continuously, as it is on the festival grounds itself. I wonder if there are people in the town that aren't interested, that don't participate in the festival at all. From the attendance and the people I've talked to, it sure seems like most people do participate. There was certainly a large crowd at the parade. There is another parade tonite, and then a Night of the Spirits at a local park, at midnight. It had been postponed from earlier in the week because of heavy rain and thunderstorms, which hopefully won't materialize tonight. We have had an incredible amount of rain, and an incredible change in the weather, really from hour to hour many days. So we've all gotten soaked at times, and some people's tents have taken in water, but luckily, not mine. The festival grounds were very muddy last night, and slippery, and I was worried about people falling. Including myself, one fall per festival is enough.
The Night of the Spirits, tonite, involves only two groups, the South Africans and the two Yanomamo Venezuela shaman boys. Should be interesting. I talked to the director of the South Africans, with whom I've become quite friendly. He says they are performing some type of initiation ritual.
Well, have to go now, time for some more delicous French cafeteria food! I hope to get back to the computer tomorrow to relate some of the day's adventures, and some of what's still to come tonite.
Back soon.
The festival is winding down, and I am starting to feel sad, as I knew I would. Some of the performing groups are already leaving. Two of our group members are leaving tomorrow as well, although the rest of us still have two days here to help with the knockdown. It is truly incredible how many people I have met here, including the group members, the performers, and the volunteers, of which there are hundreds. Because our group circulates through the festival and thru the various responsibilies we have probably gotten to know more people than most volunteers, who have responsibilities in just one area.
Right now I am at the Maison du Folklore, my home away from home. It's where I have access to the computer, at least at times, and also where the kitchen and restaurant are where the repas typique have been prepared and served. It's just a quick walk from our campground, whereas the festival site is a good 20 minute walk. It's comfortable walking it night or day, no safety concerns, except the darkness if I forget to take my flashlight.
A few minutes ago, there was some group singing and playing just outside the door here. I think it must have been the Hungarians, because I had seen them loading up their vehicles a little earlier. It's just typical of the whole event, people spontaneously, or at least informally, singing in the street, promanading in their costumes outside the festival grounds, etc. And, in the streets of the small downtown, music from the festival is played continuously, as it is on the festival grounds itself. I wonder if there are people in the town that aren't interested, that don't participate in the festival at all. From the attendance and the people I've talked to, it sure seems like most people do participate. There was certainly a large crowd at the parade. There is another parade tonite, and then a Night of the Spirits at a local park, at midnight. It had been postponed from earlier in the week because of heavy rain and thunderstorms, which hopefully won't materialize tonight. We have had an incredible amount of rain, and an incredible change in the weather, really from hour to hour many days. So we've all gotten soaked at times, and some people's tents have taken in water, but luckily, not mine. The festival grounds were very muddy last night, and slippery, and I was worried about people falling. Including myself, one fall per festival is enough.
The Night of the Spirits, tonite, involves only two groups, the South Africans and the two Yanomamo Venezuela shaman boys. Should be interesting. I talked to the director of the South Africans, with whom I've become quite friendly. He says they are performing some type of initiation ritual.
Well, have to go now, time for some more delicous French cafeteria food! I hope to get back to the computer tomorrow to relate some of the day's adventures, and some of what's still to come tonite.
Back soon.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
pommes des terre farcis, etc.
That's what I was making this morning, stuffed potatoes, filled with a hamburger mix. I have decided that working in Didier's kitchen at the Maison de Folklore, where the repas typiques are prepared and served is my favorite responsibiliity. There have been several of them, food from Khazistan, Egypt, today's from Provence, the southern part of France, tomorrow's, the last one, will be a Slovakian menu. Each time they are preceded by entertainment from the corresponding group.
I volunteered, actually, to work there this morning, after my assigned shift cleaning up the cabaret and getting things ready for tonite, the last night of the cabaret. There are a couple more days to the festival. So I woke up, refreshed after returning from the cabaret at about 1:30 am last night. I was one of the early ones, after the one or two who forewent (is that a word - I've become accustomed to making them up in French and seeing if I'm understood) the cabaret altogether. Then there were the 5 who went to some other festival or club or something near Vichy last night in Pepe's car, and didn't return until 8 am, as I was leaving this morning. I got that Romain, the co-leader with Laure, got very sick, because Pepe acted it out rather graphically for us) but I have no idea where they were all night.
So Juana and I (she only returned at 2:30 am) worked with the cabaret cleaning team this am for two hours, sweeping and mopping all the dirt and spilled drinks, then covering all the tables with the tablecloths that we had cut earlier on. I then went over to the kitchen, where I helped two women from the Provence group stuff the potatoes and cut figs into lovely little flowers. There were also stuffed tomatoes and zucchinis except they were round, rather than long, also stuffed with the meat mixture. I had emptied them yesterday, on my actual restaurnat shift. Yesterday I was working with Nicolas, who is a musican, an accordian player with one of the groups ( he was also one of the guys who woke me up at 4am and keep me and most of the others up until 6 am, when I had to get up to work several days back.) I told him I really liked his music, just not at that time of night. He is a culinary student of Didier's, the chef here, who in real life is teacher of culinary arts at the school Nicolas attends. I think it's a high school.
The last typique meal is tomorrow, and if I have the time, I will try and volunteer there as well. I feel like I'm getting a mini course in French cooking (and Khazistani, and Egyptian, as well.)
There have been, and continue to be, so many incredible experiences, that I know I will only be able to convey a small percentage of them. But I will write until I have run out of energy or until someone comes to claim the computer. Meanwhile, it's very amusing when people enter the building and come to ask me questions. The last one was if it was okay to take pictures of the masks in the mini museum here. I said yes, because I've seen other people do so.
I did have a pretty lousy couple of days the last few days, even considered leaving the group at one point. Laure, and one other person, seemed to have taken a dislike to me, and decided that I was not carrying my share of the responsibilities. I can't quite figure it out, and it really startled me. If not for all my previous volunteer experiences, I would have been even more devastated. After our encounter the other day, there was another incident where I didn't know she had made a change in the schedule. and therefore missed one of my shifts. So she, and the person who I was supposed to work with, were both furious with me. To top it off, I took a bad fall in the street, walking thru the town on my own. So I now have a very impressive black and blue mark that covers most of my thigh, and it's swollen as well. And I have a bunch of other aches and pains to go with it. Thursday, two days ago, was our day off. A trip was planned, to a cheese maker's, and also to a lake. I was planning to just stay here, go to a couple of dance workshops, especially the Egytian one (their group does a combination of folkloric and belly dance. Although after my fall, I wasnt' sure I was really up for dancing, thought maybe I'd just watch. It never occurred to me that the trip would be "obligitoire." At 8am or so, Laure rustled my tent, shouting it was time to go, the bus was here. (nice of her to give me time to get ready, huh) When I said I'd prefer to stay here, she was, again, furious. When I got up, said I'd like to talk to her, she said, I'm here, rolling her eyes. This in front of the group. Then I tried to show her my incredible bruise, at which she threw up her hands, and said, it's just a bruise. So I just went back to bed, let them leave, trying to figure out how to handle the situation. Ironic that she, as the group leader, had said at the beginning, if you have a problem, just come to talk to me. And now she had embarrassed and humiliated me in front of most of the group. I basicly spent the whole day having conversations with her in my head, trying to figure out how to rectify the situation. A little later that morning I discovered that neither Pepe or Harold, who had been pretty drunk the night before, had gone. Pepe actually had thought, like me, that he would rather go to some of the workshops, and hadn't planned to go on the trip. And Lina had wanted to go but somehow had been inadvertantly been left behind. So, out of the 12 of us, not counting our two group leaders, 4 of us stayed behind. If Laure was annoyed with Pepe or Harold, I am not aware of it. None of the other folks I asked was aware that the trip had been supposedly obligatory. Maybe Laure had been annoyed with the two guys also, and had just wound up taking it out on me, I don't know. I do think this project is a little more complex to coordinate, because we are in small groups of two at each task, and our leaders are responsible to all the different group leaders at the cabaret, restaurant, recyling, etc, etc. And I am not aware of Romain doing any of the scheduling, or much of anything in terms of leading. We also haven't had much food for breakfast the last few days, it seems Laure and Romain haven't found the time to go shopping for bread or milk or anything.
Well, I didn't intend to spend so much time writing about this whole situation, but at least it's helped me get it off my chest. I frankly think Laure owes it to me to bring it up and even apologize, but I know that's not going to happen. She didn't talk to me all of yesterday. I didn't have the energy or desire to bring it up to her, although I think I should. Last night she at least began to talk tom me again. And this morning, when she realized I had volunteered to work in the kitchen right after my cleaning shift, she started to be downright friendly. So we'll see how things pan out.
Other than the above episode, things continue to be fantastic. Today's Provencal lunch was served by the Provencal dancers, in costume, to the leaders of all the perforning groups, while the musicians from the group played their fife and drum music. They have been playing it everywhere, at the cabaret, on the line at the cafeteria, etc. At one table sat several group leaders, and the two Yanomami men, all decked out in feather headresses and facepaint. They don't seem to be able to speak to anyone, they don't speak Spanish, much less English or French, and their coordinator is Brazilian and so Portuguese speaking! They are from Venezuela. Their names are Jose and Alfonso, and they seem very sweet. They keep getting refered to as shamans, so maybe sweet isn't the appropriate description, but that's the way they seem to me. The extent of our conversation has been exchanging names, but we smile and wave at each other evry time we see each other.
I'm just going to try to capture as many images and experiences as I can, as they come to me. Here goes: I've become friendly with the South Africans, Maori New Zealanders, and one of the Trinidadian leaders of the London steel drum band. I only met him last night, but we had a long conversation. He seemed really pleased that I had been to Trinidad. He hasn't lived there since the late 60's, I think. He founded the drum band, in the 80's, with another man. The group itself is quite mixed, black and while, young and old. There are 13 of them here, but the entire group is about 30. They've played mostly dance type music here, but he told me they play all kinds of stuff, and one of their upcoming London show features Katchaturian's Sabre Dance. I felt very pleased with myself since it's one of the few classical pieces I know. (maybe because it's very folkloric) The group has played all over, including Royal Albert Hall, and this is the 4th time they've been to this festival.
The South Africans may be my favorite people, if not my favorite performers. They are all kids, mostly in their early teens. The smallest boy is 13, although I would have thought him to be much younger. His name is Kea.I met him one of the first days, when he was drumming, really incredibly, outside the cafteria. When I asked him how long he'd been drumming, he said a year. The group leader, who I've become quite friendly with (his name is Mighty) tells me Kea has actually been drumming less than a year. He's also told me that Kea is an orphan, one of two in the group. He lives with his aunt, his parents died of AIDS. Not uncommon in Africa. Kea is primarily a dancer, although he did drum last night onstage under the chapiteau, with Mighty. And all the kids sang last night, in gorgeous harmony. Their costumes are very basic, compared the elaborate costumes of most of the groups, and I like that. They are basically skin colored skirts and halter tops for the girls, and little more than loincloths for the boys and Mighty. In one performance Kea was the last one to head offstage, wiggling his pretty much bare bottom all the way. Very cute. All of them are smiling, all the time, and look like they are really enjoying themselves. Mighty tells me he encourages them to do that, and I told him I think it makes a big difference that they look so happy dancing. It's not just me, I think most of the people in my group think this group is one of their favorites.
The Brazilians, in contrast to the South Africans, are all glitter and glitz, and not, to my mind, much substance. The music is great, although not very varied, and I thought they were wonderful when I first saw them, in the parade through town. Their costumes are spectacular, but they don't seem to do much except parade around in them. I would have expected snazzier dance moves.
The Slovakians are one of my favorites. The men, especially, are incredibly acrobatic, jumping and touching their heels and their heads, dynamic and graceful. Their group includes two older men who sing together,in booming operatic voices, doing what seems like something out of a Gilbert and Sullivan opera, of which I can't, of course, understand a word. I've meant to ask either Helena or Dominika what they were singing about, because they are Czech and the languages are mutuallly understandable, but have never gotten around to it. Today at lunch, after my Maori lunch companions left, one of the Slovakian singers and his wife sat down opposite me. They speak no English or French. But one of their young musicians spoke some, although not as much as I would have expected. So I asked him to tell them how much I enjoyed the men's performance, even though I had no idea what they were singing about (it ws about love, and women) They seemed really pleased to hear that I enjoyed their performance. I find that most of the performers really appreciate being told that I liked their performances, so I try to do that as much as I can.
Let's see, other images - one of the local boys coming around the cafeteria with the bread on a fork, and giving it to one of the Chinese (I think) girls. I am a bit embarrassed to say I can't tell the difference between the Khazistani. the Yakouti (Siberian) and the Chinese performers. Or maybe I shouldn't be, I remember once being surprised in Japan when one of my friends told me she couldnt tell Japanese people from Koreans by their looks. The Yakouti are also wonderful. They wear costumes made from furs decorated with embroidery. They are also kids, as are the Chinese. My favorite dance is one where a group of reindeer prance (it's the only word that describes it, even if it sounds like Rudolf) around the stage, so gracefully, until four dancers dressed like wolves, in what I assume are real wolf skins, appear and wait for their opportunity. They finally pounce on, and drag off, the last and smallest reindeer. The reindeer herd then reappears, and as a group, hissing, scare off the wolves. The musical accompaniment is all drums. The dance is extremely beautiful and moving.
I think I'll stop here. The festival is winding down, but I hope and expect there will be some more amazing experiences to come. Tomorrow night, for instance, at midnight, is the Night of the Spirits, in a park in town. It's apparently just the South Africans and the two young Yanamomi shamans, Alfonso and Jose! Check back soon for an update.
I volunteered, actually, to work there this morning, after my assigned shift cleaning up the cabaret and getting things ready for tonite, the last night of the cabaret. There are a couple more days to the festival. So I woke up, refreshed after returning from the cabaret at about 1:30 am last night. I was one of the early ones, after the one or two who forewent (is that a word - I've become accustomed to making them up in French and seeing if I'm understood) the cabaret altogether. Then there were the 5 who went to some other festival or club or something near Vichy last night in Pepe's car, and didn't return until 8 am, as I was leaving this morning. I got that Romain, the co-leader with Laure, got very sick, because Pepe acted it out rather graphically for us) but I have no idea where they were all night.
So Juana and I (she only returned at 2:30 am) worked with the cabaret cleaning team this am for two hours, sweeping and mopping all the dirt and spilled drinks, then covering all the tables with the tablecloths that we had cut earlier on. I then went over to the kitchen, where I helped two women from the Provence group stuff the potatoes and cut figs into lovely little flowers. There were also stuffed tomatoes and zucchinis except they were round, rather than long, also stuffed with the meat mixture. I had emptied them yesterday, on my actual restaurnat shift. Yesterday I was working with Nicolas, who is a musican, an accordian player with one of the groups ( he was also one of the guys who woke me up at 4am and keep me and most of the others up until 6 am, when I had to get up to work several days back.) I told him I really liked his music, just not at that time of night. He is a culinary student of Didier's, the chef here, who in real life is teacher of culinary arts at the school Nicolas attends. I think it's a high school.
The last typique meal is tomorrow, and if I have the time, I will try and volunteer there as well. I feel like I'm getting a mini course in French cooking (and Khazistani, and Egyptian, as well.)
There have been, and continue to be, so many incredible experiences, that I know I will only be able to convey a small percentage of them. But I will write until I have run out of energy or until someone comes to claim the computer. Meanwhile, it's very amusing when people enter the building and come to ask me questions. The last one was if it was okay to take pictures of the masks in the mini museum here. I said yes, because I've seen other people do so.
I did have a pretty lousy couple of days the last few days, even considered leaving the group at one point. Laure, and one other person, seemed to have taken a dislike to me, and decided that I was not carrying my share of the responsibilities. I can't quite figure it out, and it really startled me. If not for all my previous volunteer experiences, I would have been even more devastated. After our encounter the other day, there was another incident where I didn't know she had made a change in the schedule. and therefore missed one of my shifts. So she, and the person who I was supposed to work with, were both furious with me. To top it off, I took a bad fall in the street, walking thru the town on my own. So I now have a very impressive black and blue mark that covers most of my thigh, and it's swollen as well. And I have a bunch of other aches and pains to go with it. Thursday, two days ago, was our day off. A trip was planned, to a cheese maker's, and also to a lake. I was planning to just stay here, go to a couple of dance workshops, especially the Egytian one (their group does a combination of folkloric and belly dance. Although after my fall, I wasnt' sure I was really up for dancing, thought maybe I'd just watch. It never occurred to me that the trip would be "obligitoire." At 8am or so, Laure rustled my tent, shouting it was time to go, the bus was here. (nice of her to give me time to get ready, huh) When I said I'd prefer to stay here, she was, again, furious. When I got up, said I'd like to talk to her, she said, I'm here, rolling her eyes. This in front of the group. Then I tried to show her my incredible bruise, at which she threw up her hands, and said, it's just a bruise. So I just went back to bed, let them leave, trying to figure out how to handle the situation. Ironic that she, as the group leader, had said at the beginning, if you have a problem, just come to talk to me. And now she had embarrassed and humiliated me in front of most of the group. I basicly spent the whole day having conversations with her in my head, trying to figure out how to rectify the situation. A little later that morning I discovered that neither Pepe or Harold, who had been pretty drunk the night before, had gone. Pepe actually had thought, like me, that he would rather go to some of the workshops, and hadn't planned to go on the trip. And Lina had wanted to go but somehow had been inadvertantly been left behind. So, out of the 12 of us, not counting our two group leaders, 4 of us stayed behind. If Laure was annoyed with Pepe or Harold, I am not aware of it. None of the other folks I asked was aware that the trip had been supposedly obligatory. Maybe Laure had been annoyed with the two guys also, and had just wound up taking it out on me, I don't know. I do think this project is a little more complex to coordinate, because we are in small groups of two at each task, and our leaders are responsible to all the different group leaders at the cabaret, restaurant, recyling, etc, etc. And I am not aware of Romain doing any of the scheduling, or much of anything in terms of leading. We also haven't had much food for breakfast the last few days, it seems Laure and Romain haven't found the time to go shopping for bread or milk or anything.
Well, I didn't intend to spend so much time writing about this whole situation, but at least it's helped me get it off my chest. I frankly think Laure owes it to me to bring it up and even apologize, but I know that's not going to happen. She didn't talk to me all of yesterday. I didn't have the energy or desire to bring it up to her, although I think I should. Last night she at least began to talk tom me again. And this morning, when she realized I had volunteered to work in the kitchen right after my cleaning shift, she started to be downright friendly. So we'll see how things pan out.
Other than the above episode, things continue to be fantastic. Today's Provencal lunch was served by the Provencal dancers, in costume, to the leaders of all the perforning groups, while the musicians from the group played their fife and drum music. They have been playing it everywhere, at the cabaret, on the line at the cafeteria, etc. At one table sat several group leaders, and the two Yanomami men, all decked out in feather headresses and facepaint. They don't seem to be able to speak to anyone, they don't speak Spanish, much less English or French, and their coordinator is Brazilian and so Portuguese speaking! They are from Venezuela. Their names are Jose and Alfonso, and they seem very sweet. They keep getting refered to as shamans, so maybe sweet isn't the appropriate description, but that's the way they seem to me. The extent of our conversation has been exchanging names, but we smile and wave at each other evry time we see each other.
I'm just going to try to capture as many images and experiences as I can, as they come to me. Here goes: I've become friendly with the South Africans, Maori New Zealanders, and one of the Trinidadian leaders of the London steel drum band. I only met him last night, but we had a long conversation. He seemed really pleased that I had been to Trinidad. He hasn't lived there since the late 60's, I think. He founded the drum band, in the 80's, with another man. The group itself is quite mixed, black and while, young and old. There are 13 of them here, but the entire group is about 30. They've played mostly dance type music here, but he told me they play all kinds of stuff, and one of their upcoming London show features Katchaturian's Sabre Dance. I felt very pleased with myself since it's one of the few classical pieces I know. (maybe because it's very folkloric) The group has played all over, including Royal Albert Hall, and this is the 4th time they've been to this festival.
The South Africans may be my favorite people, if not my favorite performers. They are all kids, mostly in their early teens. The smallest boy is 13, although I would have thought him to be much younger. His name is Kea.I met him one of the first days, when he was drumming, really incredibly, outside the cafteria. When I asked him how long he'd been drumming, he said a year. The group leader, who I've become quite friendly with (his name is Mighty) tells me Kea has actually been drumming less than a year. He's also told me that Kea is an orphan, one of two in the group. He lives with his aunt, his parents died of AIDS. Not uncommon in Africa. Kea is primarily a dancer, although he did drum last night onstage under the chapiteau, with Mighty. And all the kids sang last night, in gorgeous harmony. Their costumes are very basic, compared the elaborate costumes of most of the groups, and I like that. They are basically skin colored skirts and halter tops for the girls, and little more than loincloths for the boys and Mighty. In one performance Kea was the last one to head offstage, wiggling his pretty much bare bottom all the way. Very cute. All of them are smiling, all the time, and look like they are really enjoying themselves. Mighty tells me he encourages them to do that, and I told him I think it makes a big difference that they look so happy dancing. It's not just me, I think most of the people in my group think this group is one of their favorites.
The Brazilians, in contrast to the South Africans, are all glitter and glitz, and not, to my mind, much substance. The music is great, although not very varied, and I thought they were wonderful when I first saw them, in the parade through town. Their costumes are spectacular, but they don't seem to do much except parade around in them. I would have expected snazzier dance moves.
The Slovakians are one of my favorites. The men, especially, are incredibly acrobatic, jumping and touching their heels and their heads, dynamic and graceful. Their group includes two older men who sing together,in booming operatic voices, doing what seems like something out of a Gilbert and Sullivan opera, of which I can't, of course, understand a word. I've meant to ask either Helena or Dominika what they were singing about, because they are Czech and the languages are mutuallly understandable, but have never gotten around to it. Today at lunch, after my Maori lunch companions left, one of the Slovakian singers and his wife sat down opposite me. They speak no English or French. But one of their young musicians spoke some, although not as much as I would have expected. So I asked him to tell them how much I enjoyed the men's performance, even though I had no idea what they were singing about (it ws about love, and women) They seemed really pleased to hear that I enjoyed their performance. I find that most of the performers really appreciate being told that I liked their performances, so I try to do that as much as I can.
Let's see, other images - one of the local boys coming around the cafeteria with the bread on a fork, and giving it to one of the Chinese (I think) girls. I am a bit embarrassed to say I can't tell the difference between the Khazistani. the Yakouti (Siberian) and the Chinese performers. Or maybe I shouldn't be, I remember once being surprised in Japan when one of my friends told me she couldnt tell Japanese people from Koreans by their looks. The Yakouti are also wonderful. They wear costumes made from furs decorated with embroidery. They are also kids, as are the Chinese. My favorite dance is one where a group of reindeer prance (it's the only word that describes it, even if it sounds like Rudolf) around the stage, so gracefully, until four dancers dressed like wolves, in what I assume are real wolf skins, appear and wait for their opportunity. They finally pounce on, and drag off, the last and smallest reindeer. The reindeer herd then reappears, and as a group, hissing, scare off the wolves. The musical accompaniment is all drums. The dance is extremely beautiful and moving.
I think I'll stop here. The festival is winding down, but I hope and expect there will be some more amazing experiences to come. Tomorrow night, for instance, at midnight, is the Night of the Spirits, in a park in town. It's apparently just the South Africans and the two young Yanamomi shamans, Alfonso and Jose! Check back soon for an update.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
How to get angry in French
I've heard you truly know a language when you start to dream in it. I'm now wondering if being able to express your anger also qualifies!
This morning I had a 8 am shift helping to cook the traditioanl Egyptian meal being served for lunch today. So I went to sleep good and early. (2 am, much earlier than most of the group, who stay at the cabaret and go to bed around 4am.)
At about 4, I began to hear loud music very close to my head. Our group's large communal tent is about 10 feet from me, if that. It was the traditional French music group, and some others, jamming with their accordians and medieval hurdy gurdys etc, and of course drinking a lot and talking loudly. There were about a dozen of them, and only Pepe from our group. After a while, I went and stood in the doorway of the tent. Pepe immediately came over to me, very drunk but very apologetic, saying he didn't know how he could ask them to stop or be more quiet. And then said, with his heavily Spanish accented French, ( you were young once, right?) It's very hard to be angry with Pepe, and I wasn't. But I never fell asleep until 6, after they stopped, then turned my alarm off when it went off, didn't get up until Laure started yelling at me because I was late for my shift. So I yelled back that it was hard to get up after 1 hour of sleep. She said that everyone had trouble sleeping. Yeah, but not everyone had to get up at 7, or had their tent right next to the party.
So the upshot was that I cut garlic for an hour very grumpily, having also learned from Didier, the chef, that you have to halve them and remove the tiny seed, which is not easy to digest. And then had to work several hours more than the one hour shift I was supposed to do this am, in additional to my 4 hour shift tonite. At the same time Didier and we were preparing today's meal of chicken with rice, tomatoes, onion, garlic, cinnamon, etc. several people from the Canery Island group were preparing food for tomorrow's lunch. They don't speak any French, so I was serving as translator from their Spanish, which was kind of amusing. Things like, do you have any aluminum foil, and, do you have a container I can put these almonds in until tomorrow.
Oh, and I nver had any breakfast either. But Didier was frustrated with Laure as well, because he thought we were supposed to work more hours with him. So I think her anger at me abated a little. I really think it was Laure and Romain's responsibility to quiet the party, and sure hope it's not going to happen again.
So now, I am writing in the office at the Maison de Folklore, while downstairs in the restaurant the meal for which I cut garlic is being served and eaten, and some of the Egyptian performers are playing music and dancing, and I can hear the very contagaious music as I type.
I do enjoy most of the work, even the more tedious tasks, like washing all the tables at the festival after the previous night's festivities. It's really neat being a small part of something so big.This afternoon I work at Chez Helene again, the African food stand at the festival. Helene is a real character, and works hard and long, as do all the people at the stand. They are there the entire day and evening, preparing and serving. My first time there was in the morning, and it was all cutting and chopping. This time should be prime eating time, so I imagine I will be serving. The food is accra, which are delicious fish fritters, couscous, and a chicken dish made with mustard which I hope to try tonite. In general, we've had so much food to eat, all good, two big meals daily at the high school. I haven't even had the appetite yet to try the waffles, crepes, or ice ice cream. Looks like some interesting flavor, including mixed berries with chocolate, which I have my eyes on.
Oh, Helene also runs the adjacent African clothing stand. Yesterday morning, she gave me a beautiful scarf as a gift, and lots of people have already commented on it. I of course have told them all where I got it.
Yesterday was an incredible day. Everyone, all the performers, all the volunteers, everyone except the folks that worked at the stands, went ot a picnic on the grounds of a chateau. The chateau itself seemed abandoned, although someone told me it was privately owned. The grounds were lovely. We were all served a packaged lunch of hard boiled egg, tomato, bread, cheese,chips, and nectarine. And we were all served grilled steak which they cooked right there. The French certainly know how to cook meat right!
The best part of the day was all the performers, many of whom had brought their instruments, singing and dancing together. We had the South African kids dancing and drumming while the elegant young Khazastani women did a combination of African moves blended with their own graceful arm movements. And the Hungarian musicicians playing under a tree while some of the dancers danced, in their bathing suits! And then singing Happy Birthday, in English, apparently to someone in the group.
And then there were the Chinese musicians playing songs like Down by the Riverside, with accordian and guitar, (which are actually part of their band, not instruments I would have associated with Chinese music.)
A French coordinator tried to tell the Chinese teens something about the Chinese ambassador in Paris. She spoke in English, because apparently none of them speak French. Well, they didn't speak English, either. It was like a game of charades. Someone came over with an electronic translator, and they eventually got the word embassy after she tried passport, visa, etc. But I don't think any of her actual content ever got conveyed.
As we arrived, our group began to walk toward the chateau and Jean Roche, the director and originator of the festival, 37 years ago, arrived in his distinctive hat. It was the first time I had had any real interaction with him. He paused a the small ancient looking house of an equally ancient looking woman. She is 89. From what I could gather, he considers her somewhat of a national treasure, and often visits her. She is somewhat of a poet, and recited several poems for us. We noticed one of the festival posters on her outside wall. She and Jean roche gestured toward it simultaniously, Jean saying, good advertising!
I have to say that the official performances, in the big tent each night, have almost become background to the behind the scenes experiences. I have enjoyed them, but at this point have seen each group several times. It's the more informal and spontaneous events, and especially the interractions between the groups, that are the most intersting dynamic of all.
Today is the first time I havaen't gone to eat at the cafeteria, and I won't go tonite, either, because it's during my shift Chez Helene. I have to describe an intesting tradition that has somehow evolved there in the last few days. Someone came over to Dominika, in our group, several days ago at lunch. He handed her a fork which was stabbed into a piece of bread, and kissed her on both cheeks, then said something which the rest of us couldn't understand. He is with the Slovakian group, and she is Czech, so the languages are quite similar. She then went over to someone else and did the same thing. The idea is to go over to someone from another group, hand them the fork, and kiss them, and then it just gets passed along. So now we have at least two people roaming the cafeteria at each meal with bread on a fork, and sometimes someone else with s piece of cheese or fruit. The kitchen staff have gotten into it to. I am really curious as to how it began, but don't know who or how to ask. I don't think it's any kind of tradition from anyone's culture, but don't know that for sure. Just another example of international communication!
There have been, and will be, a number of different music and dance workshops during the ten days. Yesterday I went to one by the group from Provence, which was wonderful. Some of the movements and formations are not that different from contra dancing. The dance we learned, which the group performed for us first, was very long, and it took nearly an hour just to learn all the parts. Unfortunately, I hacd to leave before the end because I didn't want to miss my group's bus to the picnic.
So I didn't get to do the whole dance together. Last night, that same group performed at the cabaret. Again, they taught dances, but the atmosphere was entirely different, many more people, much more freeform and lively. But both were great.
Last night I finally got to see the Egyptian group. Their dancing was great, a mixture of bellydance type moves and more folkloric. It turns out they are from the American University in Cairo, and so all speak excellent English. Then they performed at the meal here a little while ago. In a day or two, they are doing a workshop, which I hope to go to, along with the Slovakian one. They are, somewhat unfortunately, on the day our group has off and is going on a trip. But I think I'm going to forgo the trip for the workshops.
I met a man yesterday at the picnic who didn't seem t be with a group. I asked him where he was from, and he told me Romania. He apparently had been part of a group performing here last year, and now came back as a volunteer photograhper. I told him I'd been in Romania a few years ago on another volunteer project, and turns out he's from the city I spent two weeks in. Strangely enough, it's the second time recently I've met someone from Cluj Napoca. The head of the Westchester Advertising club, where an award is presented in honor of my father each year, is from there as well. It's not as though I meet many Romanians, and to meet two from the same town in Transylvania!
Well, things have quieted down downstairs, and I think I'll go see if there is any of the food I helped prepare early left for me to sample. If not, maybe today's my day to sample some of the festival junk food, and/or to have something Chez Helene.
One last note - Didier, the chef just came by and I explained about this blog. He said I should put something in about how the cook is tres sypatique. (and he is!) So there you go, Didier!
This morning I had a 8 am shift helping to cook the traditioanl Egyptian meal being served for lunch today. So I went to sleep good and early. (2 am, much earlier than most of the group, who stay at the cabaret and go to bed around 4am.)
At about 4, I began to hear loud music very close to my head. Our group's large communal tent is about 10 feet from me, if that. It was the traditional French music group, and some others, jamming with their accordians and medieval hurdy gurdys etc, and of course drinking a lot and talking loudly. There were about a dozen of them, and only Pepe from our group. After a while, I went and stood in the doorway of the tent. Pepe immediately came over to me, very drunk but very apologetic, saying he didn't know how he could ask them to stop or be more quiet. And then said, with his heavily Spanish accented French, ( you were young once, right?) It's very hard to be angry with Pepe, and I wasn't. But I never fell asleep until 6, after they stopped, then turned my alarm off when it went off, didn't get up until Laure started yelling at me because I was late for my shift. So I yelled back that it was hard to get up after 1 hour of sleep. She said that everyone had trouble sleeping. Yeah, but not everyone had to get up at 7, or had their tent right next to the party.
So the upshot was that I cut garlic for an hour very grumpily, having also learned from Didier, the chef, that you have to halve them and remove the tiny seed, which is not easy to digest. And then had to work several hours more than the one hour shift I was supposed to do this am, in additional to my 4 hour shift tonite. At the same time Didier and we were preparing today's meal of chicken with rice, tomatoes, onion, garlic, cinnamon, etc. several people from the Canery Island group were preparing food for tomorrow's lunch. They don't speak any French, so I was serving as translator from their Spanish, which was kind of amusing. Things like, do you have any aluminum foil, and, do you have a container I can put these almonds in until tomorrow.
Oh, and I nver had any breakfast either. But Didier was frustrated with Laure as well, because he thought we were supposed to work more hours with him. So I think her anger at me abated a little. I really think it was Laure and Romain's responsibility to quiet the party, and sure hope it's not going to happen again.
So now, I am writing in the office at the Maison de Folklore, while downstairs in the restaurant the meal for which I cut garlic is being served and eaten, and some of the Egyptian performers are playing music and dancing, and I can hear the very contagaious music as I type.
I do enjoy most of the work, even the more tedious tasks, like washing all the tables at the festival after the previous night's festivities. It's really neat being a small part of something so big.This afternoon I work at Chez Helene again, the African food stand at the festival. Helene is a real character, and works hard and long, as do all the people at the stand. They are there the entire day and evening, preparing and serving. My first time there was in the morning, and it was all cutting and chopping. This time should be prime eating time, so I imagine I will be serving. The food is accra, which are delicious fish fritters, couscous, and a chicken dish made with mustard which I hope to try tonite. In general, we've had so much food to eat, all good, two big meals daily at the high school. I haven't even had the appetite yet to try the waffles, crepes, or ice ice cream. Looks like some interesting flavor, including mixed berries with chocolate, which I have my eyes on.
Oh, Helene also runs the adjacent African clothing stand. Yesterday morning, she gave me a beautiful scarf as a gift, and lots of people have already commented on it. I of course have told them all where I got it.
Yesterday was an incredible day. Everyone, all the performers, all the volunteers, everyone except the folks that worked at the stands, went ot a picnic on the grounds of a chateau. The chateau itself seemed abandoned, although someone told me it was privately owned. The grounds were lovely. We were all served a packaged lunch of hard boiled egg, tomato, bread, cheese,chips, and nectarine. And we were all served grilled steak which they cooked right there. The French certainly know how to cook meat right!
The best part of the day was all the performers, many of whom had brought their instruments, singing and dancing together. We had the South African kids dancing and drumming while the elegant young Khazastani women did a combination of African moves blended with their own graceful arm movements. And the Hungarian musicicians playing under a tree while some of the dancers danced, in their bathing suits! And then singing Happy Birthday, in English, apparently to someone in the group.
And then there were the Chinese musicians playing songs like Down by the Riverside, with accordian and guitar, (which are actually part of their band, not instruments I would have associated with Chinese music.)
A French coordinator tried to tell the Chinese teens something about the Chinese ambassador in Paris. She spoke in English, because apparently none of them speak French. Well, they didn't speak English, either. It was like a game of charades. Someone came over with an electronic translator, and they eventually got the word embassy after she tried passport, visa, etc. But I don't think any of her actual content ever got conveyed.
As we arrived, our group began to walk toward the chateau and Jean Roche, the director and originator of the festival, 37 years ago, arrived in his distinctive hat. It was the first time I had had any real interaction with him. He paused a the small ancient looking house of an equally ancient looking woman. She is 89. From what I could gather, he considers her somewhat of a national treasure, and often visits her. She is somewhat of a poet, and recited several poems for us. We noticed one of the festival posters on her outside wall. She and Jean roche gestured toward it simultaniously, Jean saying, good advertising!
I have to say that the official performances, in the big tent each night, have almost become background to the behind the scenes experiences. I have enjoyed them, but at this point have seen each group several times. It's the more informal and spontaneous events, and especially the interractions between the groups, that are the most intersting dynamic of all.
Today is the first time I havaen't gone to eat at the cafeteria, and I won't go tonite, either, because it's during my shift Chez Helene. I have to describe an intesting tradition that has somehow evolved there in the last few days. Someone came over to Dominika, in our group, several days ago at lunch. He handed her a fork which was stabbed into a piece of bread, and kissed her on both cheeks, then said something which the rest of us couldn't understand. He is with the Slovakian group, and she is Czech, so the languages are quite similar. She then went over to someone else and did the same thing. The idea is to go over to someone from another group, hand them the fork, and kiss them, and then it just gets passed along. So now we have at least two people roaming the cafeteria at each meal with bread on a fork, and sometimes someone else with s piece of cheese or fruit. The kitchen staff have gotten into it to. I am really curious as to how it began, but don't know who or how to ask. I don't think it's any kind of tradition from anyone's culture, but don't know that for sure. Just another example of international communication!
There have been, and will be, a number of different music and dance workshops during the ten days. Yesterday I went to one by the group from Provence, which was wonderful. Some of the movements and formations are not that different from contra dancing. The dance we learned, which the group performed for us first, was very long, and it took nearly an hour just to learn all the parts. Unfortunately, I hacd to leave before the end because I didn't want to miss my group's bus to the picnic.
So I didn't get to do the whole dance together. Last night, that same group performed at the cabaret. Again, they taught dances, but the atmosphere was entirely different, many more people, much more freeform and lively. But both were great.
Last night I finally got to see the Egyptian group. Their dancing was great, a mixture of bellydance type moves and more folkloric. It turns out they are from the American University in Cairo, and so all speak excellent English. Then they performed at the meal here a little while ago. In a day or two, they are doing a workshop, which I hope to go to, along with the Slovakian one. They are, somewhat unfortunately, on the day our group has off and is going on a trip. But I think I'm going to forgo the trip for the workshops.
I met a man yesterday at the picnic who didn't seem t be with a group. I asked him where he was from, and he told me Romania. He apparently had been part of a group performing here last year, and now came back as a volunteer photograhper. I told him I'd been in Romania a few years ago on another volunteer project, and turns out he's from the city I spent two weeks in. Strangely enough, it's the second time recently I've met someone from Cluj Napoca. The head of the Westchester Advertising club, where an award is presented in honor of my father each year, is from there as well. It's not as though I meet many Romanians, and to meet two from the same town in Transylvania!
Well, things have quieted down downstairs, and I think I'll go see if there is any of the food I helped prepare early left for me to sample. If not, maybe today's my day to sample some of the festival junk food, and/or to have something Chez Helene.
One last note - Didier, the chef just came by and I explained about this blog. He said I should put something in about how the cook is tres sypatique. (and he is!) So there you go, Didier!
Sunday, July 18, 2010
A parade, a spectacle under the chapiteau, a cabaret
It's Sunday morning, the third day of the 10 days of festivities. The first night featured all the European groups, in a 4 hour long performance. I had managed to find a seat in the third row, after moving up close just to take some pictures. The groups include Slovakia, Albania, Khazistan, the Canary Islands, 2 different French groups, and more. Most feature both singing, dancing, and live musicians. The Albanians are just 4 singers, a woman and three men, who sing in a strange, monotonal drone. I wasn't too enthralled at first, and am sure most of at least my group wasn't, but it did begin to grow on me. Very hypnotic.
Some of the groups include children, some are just children, some are all youngish adults, some have quite a mixture of ages. I find them all pretty wonderful.
Yesterday there was a parade through the downtown streets, which was exhilarating. It seemed like the whole town of 6000 turned out. This must be such an amazing event for them. It's a pretty quiet town, then two weeks of intensity and people from all over the world. During the parade each group stopped multiple times and performed, not just a brief hint but a full dance. I was at the beginning of the parade, and then walked forward so saw some of the groups several times.
Last night was another show under the big tent, including all the groups. I stayed until 11pm, then headed over to the cabaret, where different groups perform each night, until 3am. I lasted until about 1;30 am, I think most of our group stayed until the end. It was really phenomenal, watching first the Brazilians, then the Irish band, play, with everyone from people in their own group to dancers from the other groups to local folks of all ages, kids, teens, older adults. There were GAnnatian (?) teenagers moonwalking to Brazilian music, South African kids doing breakdancing to Irish music, little local kids running around in circles, people doing the polka, etc, etc. One of our groups tasks is working at the cabaret, and my shift is tomorrow. I signed up for it, but am having second thoughts. It's not so much the hours, but it's very noisy and I don't know if I'll be able to hear and understand to take orders. But Dominika and Harold looked awfully cute walking around with their trays last night!
My job yesterday was to work at the restaurant. Lina, our 16 year old German volunteer with blond dreadlocks, and I spent about an hour cutting up carrots, and ten another three hours cutting up onions. Quite fortuitously, I had put in my contact lenses that morning for only the first time, and had no trouble with the onions. It really does make a difference. Lina, on the other hand, had tears running down her cheeks the whole time. Our veggies went into couscous and a couple of other African dishes. Helene is the queen of the kitchen, and quite the character. She is half Nigerian, half Togo, but I believe she lives here. She rules the kitchen, but quite benevolently.
I have much more to tell, about our meals with the performers, my trash detail this morning, my new friends the South African kids, etc. but it will have to wait because one of the staff just arrived to claim the computer. A bientot!
Some of the groups include children, some are just children, some are all youngish adults, some have quite a mixture of ages. I find them all pretty wonderful.
Yesterday there was a parade through the downtown streets, which was exhilarating. It seemed like the whole town of 6000 turned out. This must be such an amazing event for them. It's a pretty quiet town, then two weeks of intensity and people from all over the world. During the parade each group stopped multiple times and performed, not just a brief hint but a full dance. I was at the beginning of the parade, and then walked forward so saw some of the groups several times.
Last night was another show under the big tent, including all the groups. I stayed until 11pm, then headed over to the cabaret, where different groups perform each night, until 3am. I lasted until about 1;30 am, I think most of our group stayed until the end. It was really phenomenal, watching first the Brazilians, then the Irish band, play, with everyone from people in their own group to dancers from the other groups to local folks of all ages, kids, teens, older adults. There were GAnnatian (?) teenagers moonwalking to Brazilian music, South African kids doing breakdancing to Irish music, little local kids running around in circles, people doing the polka, etc, etc. One of our groups tasks is working at the cabaret, and my shift is tomorrow. I signed up for it, but am having second thoughts. It's not so much the hours, but it's very noisy and I don't know if I'll be able to hear and understand to take orders. But Dominika and Harold looked awfully cute walking around with their trays last night!
My job yesterday was to work at the restaurant. Lina, our 16 year old German volunteer with blond dreadlocks, and I spent about an hour cutting up carrots, and ten another three hours cutting up onions. Quite fortuitously, I had put in my contact lenses that morning for only the first time, and had no trouble with the onions. It really does make a difference. Lina, on the other hand, had tears running down her cheeks the whole time. Our veggies went into couscous and a couple of other African dishes. Helene is the queen of the kitchen, and quite the character. She is half Nigerian, half Togo, but I believe she lives here. She rules the kitchen, but quite benevolently.
I have much more to tell, about our meals with the performers, my trash detail this morning, my new friends the South African kids, etc. but it will have to wait because one of the staff just arrived to claim the computer. A bientot!
Friday, July 16, 2010
The festival starts now!
Finally, I have a chance to write. Things have been going great, only real problem is that it has been almost impossible to find find time to get to a computer. I am at the Maison de Folklore, adjacent to our tenting ground, and whose kitchen we have been using. They have a computer I can use after 6pm, but we usually haven't beeen around at that time. I am now sitting here, which is right at the entry of the offices, so it looks like I am the receptionist. people keep coming by, some in costume, to ask me questions that I can't answer!
The festival is literally about to start, this minute. But we still will go to dinner, and then to the "chapiteau,", the big tent, for the opening ceremonies. So whatever the first thing is, the guinette, or something like that, I guess we will miss.
Everything has been slowly building up over the past 5 days. It has been fascinating to watch, and be part of, all the things, large and small, that need to be done to put on an event like this. We have done tasks from cutting tomatoes to cleaning all kinds of things and places, to cutting plastic rolls into 500 tablecloths to use in the cabaret. We have also spent a lot of time waiting around to be told what to do, which is more tiring than doing it, of course. We spent a couple of days painting clothing racks for costumes, and signs for the different countries, which I am guessing they will use tonite during the procession of all the groups. We saw a woman walk by with the Slovakie sign this afternoon, and got all excited because we had made the stencil and then painted it.
All the stuff that's been stored in the old brewery, now atelier, where we worked the first few days, has come slowly out of storage and been trucked over to the festival grounds. Yesterday we mounted on the metal fences dozens of painted portraits, all different, so the whole festival field is now encirled by them. I was so taken with them that I took dozens of photos of my fellow volunteers in the process of mounting them. And yet today, seeing them all, I must say I was less impressed, or just didn't notice them as much. So I am happy to have had the perspective of watching them individually go up.
All the merchants arrived over the last couple of days and set up their wares. There are clothes from India, Cambodia, Nepal, sseveral African countries, jewelry, musical instruments, etc, Some of the people seem to be from the countries whose wares they are selling, but more are not. It's not any different from Americans selling stuff from any of those countries, of course. I started speaking with a man who had beautiful Indian sari skirts and other things, from whom I will no doubt purchase something before the end of the week. When he asked what my role was here, and I explained, he said, still in French, oh, I'm from Scotland, we can speak in English. He has been doing this festival for five years.
Some of the merchandise is items I haven't seen before, for instance, pottery from Lithuania. When I walk by this afternoon, the pieces reprenting people were blowing smoke! I think it was incense, but am not sure!
There are so many details involved in putting up the tents, setting up the sound systems, etc. I can't think of when I 've ever been involved in such a large project, watching it evolve.
Have I mentioned Lulu? He's an elderly man, who was introduced to us as the mascot of the festival. He's tiny, and toothless, and everywhere, helping with setting things up. I hear he dances at the cabaret every night. The cabaret, by the way goes every night after everything else has closed, from 11 pm until 3 am. It's one of our responsibilites to staff it, although we aren't sure just what we'll be doing. Probably serving drinks. We are also at least partly responsible for the recycling barrels, and for the restaurants and frites stand. We've all signed up for various shifts, making sure we don't have a real early one right after one at the cabaret the night before. One of the volunteers very sweetly asked me if I was sure I wanted to staff the cabaret. I do usually go to sleep, or at least to bed, several hours before the rest of them. But I do want to give the cabaret a try, at least once!
There will be live music there every night, some of the regular groups that are perfroming at the festival, some that are just doing the cabaret.
So let me mention some of the groups. There are groups from China, South Africa, New Zealand, Slovakie, Hungary, Yakoutie, ( which is a group from or near Siberia) and more. Some are groups of children. Everyone is wearing regular western clothes, jeans, t-shirts, sneakers, etc. Of course they will look totally different in their traditional costumes. Some of them have never been out of their country before.
The first few days we cooked our own meals. But now that the performers are here, everyone is eating at the high school cafeterial. I don't know if this is the normal cafeteria food, but it is sure good. The problem is, there's too much of it! Two large meals a day. This afternoon we had what I thought was fried fish and potatoes, but it was actually some kind of meat, maybe turkey, and cheese, inside the fried dough casing. And the "potatoes" were actually cauliflour in a cream sauce. Salads, cheese, fruit, yogurt, and ice cream at most every meal.
But the best part of the meals is getting to meet some of the performers. i've already become friendly with the director of the South African group.. He has studied dance of many kinds, including ballet, now directs the program and only dances at times. The kids seem somewhat shy but sweet. One boy is a fantastic djembe drummer. I asked him how old he is, and how long he has been playing. he's 13, has been playing for a year. Two of the boys have hurt themselves, in France but at another festival before they got here. One broke his leg dancing, the other fell down some stairs. So neither of them can dance. But they can still sing. I feel bad for them, but am not sure how bad they feel. I imagine it's still pretty exciting to be on the trip. The director has big plans. He says he'd like to mount a really big production, along the lines of The Lion Kind, and take it touring. I don't know if he's overreaching or not. But I am certainly looking forward to seeing them perform. One funny moment - they had left their instrucments on a table outside the cafetera last night, including something that I later found out was an antelope horn used in a traditional dance. Some people from another group, perhaps the Slovakians, came along, tried the drums, as many peolple had, and then put the horn instrument on their heads, laughing. I of course was taking pictures.
I talked to a woman at a stand who was selling silk scarves from Cambodia. The profits go to fund an orphanage in Phnom Phen. I asksed if she had a brochure, which she did. I read it and found out that she and her husband had been victims of the Khmer Rouge, and started a program for children in a refugee camp in 1987. She's won two awards for her work, a French one, and one that's descrbed as the Southeast Asian equivalent of the Nobel Peace Prize. She hadn't told me any of this herself,and only gave me the brochure after I asked if she had one. Well, I can see I'm going to be buying some of her scarves!
I'm getting hungry, despite the large lunch,which is good because we head off for dinner in about 15 minutes. And then to the big chapiteau, where I watched some rehearsals earlier today. Things will go into an entirely different gear tonight, I imagine. I'm excited about the festival beginning of course, but also have to say that the experience of watching and helping with the set up has been incredible in itself. From now on we have definite assignments, and will each work a 4 hour shift each day, plus an additional morning clean up one hour shift some days. Other than that, we'll be free to wander the festival, sleep, party, whatever. Oh, I didn't mention that we, and all the volunteers(who other than us seem to be all locals, some who have obviously doing this for years, and some, like some of the folks serving us our meals, who are kids) all have badges that allow us into every event and to have free food and drinks. The individual events are pretty pricey, between 15 and 20 dollars, although there are also lots of free things happening. There is also an open stage every day. I have a feeling that at least one of the folks in our group, Pepe, from Barcelona, is going to be heading over there. He drove here from Spain, participating at another music festival before this, and brought his own djembe drum. And he's not at all shy about playing it, on any occasion.
One last thing I want to mention - our Bastille Day excursion. We went on a trip to a nice lake less than an hour from here, and then to Clermont Ferrand, the nearest big city. I'd heard CF was an industrial city, not very interesting, so didn't have high expectations. The city center is actually quite nice, lots of neat architecture and a black church built of volcanic stone. There is a chain of volcanoes in the area, which I think we are going to visit on our other day off. The lake was filled with picnickers, and though crowded was very nice. I spent a half hour or more in the water with my favorite toy, which I am so glad I brought - my swimpy3, my underwater mp3 player.
Well, time to go, I hope the bus didn't leave without me!
The festival is literally about to start, this minute. But we still will go to dinner, and then to the "chapiteau,", the big tent, for the opening ceremonies. So whatever the first thing is, the guinette, or something like that, I guess we will miss.
Everything has been slowly building up over the past 5 days. It has been fascinating to watch, and be part of, all the things, large and small, that need to be done to put on an event like this. We have done tasks from cutting tomatoes to cleaning all kinds of things and places, to cutting plastic rolls into 500 tablecloths to use in the cabaret. We have also spent a lot of time waiting around to be told what to do, which is more tiring than doing it, of course. We spent a couple of days painting clothing racks for costumes, and signs for the different countries, which I am guessing they will use tonite during the procession of all the groups. We saw a woman walk by with the Slovakie sign this afternoon, and got all excited because we had made the stencil and then painted it.
All the stuff that's been stored in the old brewery, now atelier, where we worked the first few days, has come slowly out of storage and been trucked over to the festival grounds. Yesterday we mounted on the metal fences dozens of painted portraits, all different, so the whole festival field is now encirled by them. I was so taken with them that I took dozens of photos of my fellow volunteers in the process of mounting them. And yet today, seeing them all, I must say I was less impressed, or just didn't notice them as much. So I am happy to have had the perspective of watching them individually go up.
All the merchants arrived over the last couple of days and set up their wares. There are clothes from India, Cambodia, Nepal, sseveral African countries, jewelry, musical instruments, etc, Some of the people seem to be from the countries whose wares they are selling, but more are not. It's not any different from Americans selling stuff from any of those countries, of course. I started speaking with a man who had beautiful Indian sari skirts and other things, from whom I will no doubt purchase something before the end of the week. When he asked what my role was here, and I explained, he said, still in French, oh, I'm from Scotland, we can speak in English. He has been doing this festival for five years.
Some of the merchandise is items I haven't seen before, for instance, pottery from Lithuania. When I walk by this afternoon, the pieces reprenting people were blowing smoke! I think it was incense, but am not sure!
There are so many details involved in putting up the tents, setting up the sound systems, etc. I can't think of when I 've ever been involved in such a large project, watching it evolve.
Have I mentioned Lulu? He's an elderly man, who was introduced to us as the mascot of the festival. He's tiny, and toothless, and everywhere, helping with setting things up. I hear he dances at the cabaret every night. The cabaret, by the way goes every night after everything else has closed, from 11 pm until 3 am. It's one of our responsibilites to staff it, although we aren't sure just what we'll be doing. Probably serving drinks. We are also at least partly responsible for the recycling barrels, and for the restaurants and frites stand. We've all signed up for various shifts, making sure we don't have a real early one right after one at the cabaret the night before. One of the volunteers very sweetly asked me if I was sure I wanted to staff the cabaret. I do usually go to sleep, or at least to bed, several hours before the rest of them. But I do want to give the cabaret a try, at least once!
There will be live music there every night, some of the regular groups that are perfroming at the festival, some that are just doing the cabaret.
So let me mention some of the groups. There are groups from China, South Africa, New Zealand, Slovakie, Hungary, Yakoutie, ( which is a group from or near Siberia) and more. Some are groups of children. Everyone is wearing regular western clothes, jeans, t-shirts, sneakers, etc. Of course they will look totally different in their traditional costumes. Some of them have never been out of their country before.
The first few days we cooked our own meals. But now that the performers are here, everyone is eating at the high school cafeterial. I don't know if this is the normal cafeteria food, but it is sure good. The problem is, there's too much of it! Two large meals a day. This afternoon we had what I thought was fried fish and potatoes, but it was actually some kind of meat, maybe turkey, and cheese, inside the fried dough casing. And the "potatoes" were actually cauliflour in a cream sauce. Salads, cheese, fruit, yogurt, and ice cream at most every meal.
But the best part of the meals is getting to meet some of the performers. i've already become friendly with the director of the South African group.. He has studied dance of many kinds, including ballet, now directs the program and only dances at times. The kids seem somewhat shy but sweet. One boy is a fantastic djembe drummer. I asked him how old he is, and how long he has been playing. he's 13, has been playing for a year. Two of the boys have hurt themselves, in France but at another festival before they got here. One broke his leg dancing, the other fell down some stairs. So neither of them can dance. But they can still sing. I feel bad for them, but am not sure how bad they feel. I imagine it's still pretty exciting to be on the trip. The director has big plans. He says he'd like to mount a really big production, along the lines of The Lion Kind, and take it touring. I don't know if he's overreaching or not. But I am certainly looking forward to seeing them perform. One funny moment - they had left their instrucments on a table outside the cafetera last night, including something that I later found out was an antelope horn used in a traditional dance. Some people from another group, perhaps the Slovakians, came along, tried the drums, as many peolple had, and then put the horn instrument on their heads, laughing. I of course was taking pictures.
I talked to a woman at a stand who was selling silk scarves from Cambodia. The profits go to fund an orphanage in Phnom Phen. I asksed if she had a brochure, which she did. I read it and found out that she and her husband had been victims of the Khmer Rouge, and started a program for children in a refugee camp in 1987. She's won two awards for her work, a French one, and one that's descrbed as the Southeast Asian equivalent of the Nobel Peace Prize. She hadn't told me any of this herself,and only gave me the brochure after I asked if she had one. Well, I can see I'm going to be buying some of her scarves!
I'm getting hungry, despite the large lunch,which is good because we head off for dinner in about 15 minutes. And then to the big chapiteau, where I watched some rehearsals earlier today. Things will go into an entirely different gear tonight, I imagine. I'm excited about the festival beginning of course, but also have to say that the experience of watching and helping with the set up has been incredible in itself. From now on we have definite assignments, and will each work a 4 hour shift each day, plus an additional morning clean up one hour shift some days. Other than that, we'll be free to wander the festival, sleep, party, whatever. Oh, I didn't mention that we, and all the volunteers(who other than us seem to be all locals, some who have obviously doing this for years, and some, like some of the folks serving us our meals, who are kids) all have badges that allow us into every event and to have free food and drinks. The individual events are pretty pricey, between 15 and 20 dollars, although there are also lots of free things happening. There is also an open stage every day. I have a feeling that at least one of the folks in our group, Pepe, from Barcelona, is going to be heading over there. He drove here from Spain, participating at another music festival before this, and brought his own djembe drum. And he's not at all shy about playing it, on any occasion.
One last thing I want to mention - our Bastille Day excursion. We went on a trip to a nice lake less than an hour from here, and then to Clermont Ferrand, the nearest big city. I'd heard CF was an industrial city, not very interesting, so didn't have high expectations. The city center is actually quite nice, lots of neat architecture and a black church built of volcanic stone. There is a chain of volcanoes in the area, which I think we are going to visit on our other day off. The lake was filled with picnickers, and though crowded was very nice. I spent a half hour or more in the water with my favorite toy, which I am so glad I brought - my swimpy3, my underwater mp3 player.
Well, time to go, I hope the bus didn't leave without me!
Monday, July 12, 2010
Once again in France
Well, here I am, once again in France, once again doing an international volunteer project, or chantier, as they call them here. For those who might be checking out my blog for the first time, this is the 7th such project I have been part of, over the last 8 summers. (the one summer I skipped I spent three weeks in Paris, living with a host family and going to French classes in the quartier latin.) If you are interested, you can go back and check out my previous adventures in France, Thailand,Peru, Ukraine, and Transylvania! Oh, and our most recent family trip, to Jamaica, as well.
As always, I am the grand-mere of the group. (everything sounds better in French!)
I will briefly list the other participants, and then, later on, try to fill in more details of their personalities. We have three French, including the two group leaders, two Spaniards, two Czech, two Germans, one each from Morocco, Turkey, Korea, and Belgium, and myself. Most of them are pretty young, several under 20, most of the others under 25. This is the first French speaking program I've taken part in, so have spoken virtually no English since arriving four days ago. Most people speak at least as much French as I do, or more. The Morrocan young man, Ayoub, really wants to practice his English, so keeps talking to me in English. He's very sweet, but I would prefer that he didn't. I'm very pleased that I understand most everything people say, and we've been having some interesting discussions, as is always the case.
Our project is to work at the upcoming International Festival of Gannat, a small town near Vichy. This is its 37th year. There are groups coming from a number of places, including China, Brazil, Albanie, etc, about 15 groups in all. As with all of these projects, I choose after reading a brief, one paragraph description, and never know exactly what I am getting into until I arrive.
This time, what I knew was that we would be helping to set up and break down the 10 day festival, working at the festival, and sleeping in tents. When I arrived last Friday, three days ago, most everyone was already here, and had set up all the tents. There are 14 of us, and 10 or eleven tents, so most of us have our own two person tent. What luxury! Then there is a huge canvas tent, which is our living/dining room. We've got a large table, chairs, and a fridge! There's a building right next to where we are camping with toilets and showers. And down the street, at the Maison de Folklore,where I am now, there is a small art gallery, the offices of the ten paid staffers who plan and run the festival, and a huge industrial kitchen. So in some ways, this is a lot cushier than some of the other accomodations I've had during these projects, even though we are camping. Just one problem - my tent is the closest to the living room tent, where most of the volunteers stay up, noisily, until very very late! The first night, I was too tired to notice. The second night, I was wide awake until 5 am, not because of the group, but, i think, because of the time change, so basically outlasted everyone else, and read pretty much an entire book. So far it hasn't been a problem, and if it is, I'll just pick up my tent and move it!
We have been making stencils and painting signs with all of the names of the participating countries. All the performers, by the way, pay their own way here, which is incredible. We were working at an atelier, a building that is a former brewery, and huge. It is the staging area for the festival, and is filled with everything from fridges to furniture to stuff of all kind from previous years of the festival. Today we cleaned fridges and shelves that had been collecting dust and spiderwebs for a year. Then we went to the festival grounds, where a number of white tents, the kinds you see for weddings, etc, are already set up. We were assigned the task of cleaning out the "frites" stand. That is also one of the places we will be working at the festival. There are different teams, and our team is responsible, or partly so, for the frites stand, one of more of the restaurants, and at the nearly all night cabaret! Oh, and also the recycling project, which is fairly new to the festival. This is the second year, so they are still working out the kinks.
When we are not working, we can go the various workshops, and performances, and our id badges will let us in free, and I think give us a discount at the restaurants. Plus, there will be another kitchen with food just for all the volunteers, and maybe the performers,which will be free.
Thursday, or is it Wednesday (it's so easy to lose track of time) is Bastille Day. No work, fireworks here (and everywhere) at night, and we get to go on some kind of excursion. We haven't decided where, yet, perhaps swimming somewhere. The weather has been intense, very hot, like at home, and also some spectacular, and not very far away, thunderstorms. And we are camping in a field with two very large trees hovering over our tents. The most incredible thing, though, was the hailstorm we had this afternoon, the largest hail I have ever seen, about the size of large grapes.
Oh, didn't mention the world Cup last night. At least partly because of the two Spanish volunteers, it seems that everyone in the group was rooting for Spain. Pepe had even found a large Spanish flag among all the stuff in storage, and marched through the streets shouting viva Espana on our way to the neighborhood bar where we watched the game. As many of you know, I am not the biggest of sports fans, and don't think I have ever watched an entire game, of any kind, much less in a bar. We were about half the folks in the bar, the rest were obviouly neighborhood folks, plus the bar owners and family. I had thought I'd be rooting for Spain, given the crowd, but definitely found myself wanting Holland to win!
Needless to say, Pepe got more and more rowdy as the night went on, and was even louder, of course, on the walk back from the bar to chez nous than he had been on the way there.
Pepe is an interesting guy, loves all kinds of music and will start dancing at the drop of a hat (actually, he is usually wearing a hat,) whenever the mood strikes him, which is often. He drove here from Barcelona, so we have his cd player n the car to provide music. His tastes runs from Janis Joplin (that's your music, right?) he said to me, to flamenco, and a lot in betweeen. The group had a very interesting discussion, some would say argument, at supper tonight, when Pepe was still hungry after the food was all gone, and went to the fridge to get a package of cold cuts that Laure had bought for our Bastille Day picnic. This led to a discussion about how we spend our food budget, and who gets to decide, which has come up once or twice in some of my other volunteer projects. I'm too tired to do it justice now, so will wait until another time when I hopefully have more energy! But the group dynamics is always an interesting part of the projects.
Well, that's all for now, folks. Bon nuit!
As always, I am the grand-mere of the group. (everything sounds better in French!)
I will briefly list the other participants, and then, later on, try to fill in more details of their personalities. We have three French, including the two group leaders, two Spaniards, two Czech, two Germans, one each from Morocco, Turkey, Korea, and Belgium, and myself. Most of them are pretty young, several under 20, most of the others under 25. This is the first French speaking program I've taken part in, so have spoken virtually no English since arriving four days ago. Most people speak at least as much French as I do, or more. The Morrocan young man, Ayoub, really wants to practice his English, so keeps talking to me in English. He's very sweet, but I would prefer that he didn't. I'm very pleased that I understand most everything people say, and we've been having some interesting discussions, as is always the case.
Our project is to work at the upcoming International Festival of Gannat, a small town near Vichy. This is its 37th year. There are groups coming from a number of places, including China, Brazil, Albanie, etc, about 15 groups in all. As with all of these projects, I choose after reading a brief, one paragraph description, and never know exactly what I am getting into until I arrive.
This time, what I knew was that we would be helping to set up and break down the 10 day festival, working at the festival, and sleeping in tents. When I arrived last Friday, three days ago, most everyone was already here, and had set up all the tents. There are 14 of us, and 10 or eleven tents, so most of us have our own two person tent. What luxury! Then there is a huge canvas tent, which is our living/dining room. We've got a large table, chairs, and a fridge! There's a building right next to where we are camping with toilets and showers. And down the street, at the Maison de Folklore,where I am now, there is a small art gallery, the offices of the ten paid staffers who plan and run the festival, and a huge industrial kitchen. So in some ways, this is a lot cushier than some of the other accomodations I've had during these projects, even though we are camping. Just one problem - my tent is the closest to the living room tent, where most of the volunteers stay up, noisily, until very very late! The first night, I was too tired to notice. The second night, I was wide awake until 5 am, not because of the group, but, i think, because of the time change, so basically outlasted everyone else, and read pretty much an entire book. So far it hasn't been a problem, and if it is, I'll just pick up my tent and move it!
We have been making stencils and painting signs with all of the names of the participating countries. All the performers, by the way, pay their own way here, which is incredible. We were working at an atelier, a building that is a former brewery, and huge. It is the staging area for the festival, and is filled with everything from fridges to furniture to stuff of all kind from previous years of the festival. Today we cleaned fridges and shelves that had been collecting dust and spiderwebs for a year. Then we went to the festival grounds, where a number of white tents, the kinds you see for weddings, etc, are already set up. We were assigned the task of cleaning out the "frites" stand. That is also one of the places we will be working at the festival. There are different teams, and our team is responsible, or partly so, for the frites stand, one of more of the restaurants, and at the nearly all night cabaret! Oh, and also the recycling project, which is fairly new to the festival. This is the second year, so they are still working out the kinks.
When we are not working, we can go the various workshops, and performances, and our id badges will let us in free, and I think give us a discount at the restaurants. Plus, there will be another kitchen with food just for all the volunteers, and maybe the performers,which will be free.
Thursday, or is it Wednesday (it's so easy to lose track of time) is Bastille Day. No work, fireworks here (and everywhere) at night, and we get to go on some kind of excursion. We haven't decided where, yet, perhaps swimming somewhere. The weather has been intense, very hot, like at home, and also some spectacular, and not very far away, thunderstorms. And we are camping in a field with two very large trees hovering over our tents. The most incredible thing, though, was the hailstorm we had this afternoon, the largest hail I have ever seen, about the size of large grapes.
Oh, didn't mention the world Cup last night. At least partly because of the two Spanish volunteers, it seems that everyone in the group was rooting for Spain. Pepe had even found a large Spanish flag among all the stuff in storage, and marched through the streets shouting viva Espana on our way to the neighborhood bar where we watched the game. As many of you know, I am not the biggest of sports fans, and don't think I have ever watched an entire game, of any kind, much less in a bar. We were about half the folks in the bar, the rest were obviouly neighborhood folks, plus the bar owners and family. I had thought I'd be rooting for Spain, given the crowd, but definitely found myself wanting Holland to win!
Needless to say, Pepe got more and more rowdy as the night went on, and was even louder, of course, on the walk back from the bar to chez nous than he had been on the way there.
Pepe is an interesting guy, loves all kinds of music and will start dancing at the drop of a hat (actually, he is usually wearing a hat,) whenever the mood strikes him, which is often. He drove here from Barcelona, so we have his cd player n the car to provide music. His tastes runs from Janis Joplin (that's your music, right?) he said to me, to flamenco, and a lot in betweeen. The group had a very interesting discussion, some would say argument, at supper tonight, when Pepe was still hungry after the food was all gone, and went to the fridge to get a package of cold cuts that Laure had bought for our Bastille Day picnic. This led to a discussion about how we spend our food budget, and who gets to decide, which has come up once or twice in some of my other volunteer projects. I'm too tired to do it justice now, so will wait until another time when I hopefully have more energy! But the group dynamics is always an interesting part of the projects.
Well, that's all for now, folks. Bon nuit!
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