Le Marché de Noël, ou bien une merveille d'hiver

In front of the Christmas tree in Place Kleber

In front of the Cathedral

HUGE gingerbread cookies

Slightly frightening amount of Christmas lights

I guess I could say before I came to Strasbourg that I loved Christmas.  When we were little, Tim and I would be up at 6 on Christmas morning and would be forced to wait at the top of the stairs until 7, when my dad had gotten a cup of coffee in him and had had ample time to charge the video camera.  "Is it time yet?," we would pester endlessly, until it was close enough to 7 for my parents to let us down the stairs.  We raced down the steps in our slipper feet and, turning the corner to go into the living room, marveled at all of the gifts sitting under the tree for us.  There was always a bigger, unwrappable gift for each of us (or a shared big gift, like our first combination pool table/ping pong table/foosball table).  I still remember, from the video of our first Christmas at our house in Longmeadow, when I was 4 1/2 and Tim was 1 1/2, my Barbie RV, which I thought was just about the coolest thing ever.  Grammy and Grampsy, who were visiting/helping us move in (we moved in only days before Christmas!) marveled at the car.  Tim got a rocking horse, a big heavy plastic one on springs, so he sat on "Rocky" for awhile, being perfectly content not to open any other presents and to just rock.  After the spectacle of present-opening was finished, my mom always made a special Christmas breakfast.  Her Christmas rolls are pretty much legendary in our house, and, while they may sound disgusting to you, they're the perfect Christmas treat.  She lets frozen bulkie rolls rise overnight (since our bathroom was the most humid, and, thus, provided the best environment for letting the rolls rise, that was the place where they always were on Christmas Eve night when we went to bed), and then adds a sauce of butter and butterscotch pudding.  Once they come out of the oven, they are a mass of pure gooey deliciousness. 

Since I've been away at college, Christmas has become synonymous with the end of finals, with going home for perhaps the first time in the semester.  This year, that image has only been enhanced.  I've been picturing the moment when I rush off the plane and run to find my family at Logan Airport in 2 1/2 weeks, and the thought of it just makes me smile.  As you get older, you realize that it's not the presents that matter so much (although, God knows we all love to get presents every once in awhile!), but it's being around the people you love.  I can't wait to get off of that airplane, be reunited with my family, drive home and sleep in my own house for the first time in 3 1/2 months.  It has been a long semester- an incredibly rewarding semester, but a long one nonetheless- and the thing I need the most right now is to be home and surrounded by the people I love.

Being in Alsace around Christmas time this year has added an entirely different level to my Christmas revelry.  Before I go into the specifics, let me just explain why Christmas is such a big deal here.  When you think France, one image that comes to mind is that of laïcité, the complete separation of church and state (which sharply contrasts the pluralistic model of the US).  In most parts of the country, any outward symbol of religion, whether it be a cross necklace, a yarlmulka, or a headscarf, is strictly "interdit", and there has been much debate about the latter of those examples, about whether Muslim women should be allowed to wear their headscarves.  Laïcité is an incredibly interesting, albeit extremely complicated, issue.  In Alsace, though, such rules banning outward religious signs do not exist.  Université Marc Bloch, the university where I study, has two departments of theology (one Catholic, one Protestant), which do not exist anywhere else in the country.  And there is this Christmas Market, which, having existed in Strasbourg since 1570, is an integral part of the regional character.  And the reason for all of this religiosity?  During the time when much of the secularization of France was taking place, Alsace was in the hands of those awful Germans (and believe me, there is still a lot of anti-German sentiment in Alsace), a more religious people, so much of the religiosity of the region was preserved.  I think this is the one time when I would thank the Germans for occupying Alsace, although I think some Hansi children would skin me alive if they knew I had committed that thought-crime.  

Anyway, on to the main event: the Christmas Market, le Marché de Noël.  The Marché is open every day from the 4th Saturday before Christmas (in this case, this past Saturday) to I believe New Years Day (I could be mistaken on that one, though).  So, for Alsatians, December is a month of Christmas on crack, and I can safely say that no one does Christmas better than they do it here.  There are signs all around with colorful graphics and slogans calling Strasbourg the capital of Christmas, and at first, I have to admit that I scoffed at the idea.  'Yeah, okay,' I remember thinking, 'we'll see.'  Boy, was I wrong.  Now I have such an intense pride in our marché that when other people put up pictures of what Christmas looks like in the city where they're studying this semester or year, I laugh at their city's pitiful attempt (pitiful compared to Strasbourg, that is) at Christmas lights and a few meagre window displays.  

On Saturday afternoon, after class (yes, one of my professors made us have a make-up class for a class SHE missed on a Saturday from 8:30-11 in the morning, the first Saturday of the marché; needless to say, she is NOT my favorite person), I walked downtown to the marché, not really knowing what to expect.  I had seen, on my way back from the gym the previous week, vendors setting up their booths, and I had seen all of the intricate decorations of store and restaurant façades, but still I doubted.  Well now, I feel kind of stupid.  Walking through the Christmas Market is a true journey of the senses: there are flashing Christmas lights as far as the eye can see, giant gingerbread cookies (we're talking bigger than a human head) with unnecessarily long German holiday greetings written on them, delightful-smelling marrons (roasted chestnuts- the only time in my life when I've actually sort of wanted to have nuts), entire stands devoted to nativity scenes, and lots and lots of vin chaud (hot wine, apparently a regional winter specialty).  As you walk around (or attempt to walk, depending on when you go), you can hear a plethora of languages being spoken, but you are all bound together by the common experience of loving Christmas.  Hand-crafted ornaments and toys abound in the rows and rows of stalls that are spread out among various squares of the downtown area, some tucked into pockets unknown to those who don't live here.

I would liken the experience of going to the marché to that of cherry blossom season in D.C.  People from all over the world come during a very specific time to take endless amounts of pictures (well, even though I live here, I'm still guilty of that, as you all know!) and marvel at the wonder that is your city.  You try to think that you're better than them, because they're the tourists and you live there, but the truth is, you enjoy it just as much as they do.  It is oddly satisfying to think that Parisians are bused in here to go to the marché, making tourists out of the people who live in the ultimate tourist capital.  And the fact that all of these people come from far and wide to see this spectacle makes you think that maybe Strasbourg isn't so bad.  Although I have certainly spent a lot of time this semester being annoyed with France, and, more specifically, Strasbourg, the marché makes me realize that maybe it isn't so bad.  Although I am counting the days until I go home (the current count is 19, and I'm glad to finally be in the teens), this place has sort of grown on me, and has become familiar.  

The marché has been sort of a mixed blessing thus far.  While I love walking up and down the rows of stands and staring at the giant Christmas tree in Place Kleber for a few moments, losing myself in all of the lights and decorations, it is, on the other hand, an unnecessary distraction from the paper I still have to finish and the 5 finals I still have to study for (which start a week from Saturday- yikes!).  So I've tried to limit myself in how much I go downtown.  It's so hard though, when the promise of forgetting all of your troubles in a downtown area that looks like Santa's village beckons not far in the distance.  Who knows? Maybe it will keep me motivated to get everything done...?

As always, I'm missing you all and am sending you my love,

Kristen