Ascension

The Holy Ascension occurs exactly 40 days after Easter Sunday. It's the day that Jesus Christ ascends forever into heaven. On this sacred day, he's not the only one floatin'. I'm floating right here, in France.

Every week in May has a holiday in France. Today is the third in a row. First, we have Mayday on May 1st, followed by Victory Day 1945 on May 8th, and today is the Ascension. Next week we've got Pentecost. Just by having a glance at any French calendar, the first thing that strikes you is that there are lots and lots of public holidays here, especially in the Spring time. Basically, in a nutshell, we celebrate the end of every war and every Catholic event, however important or not it may be. This is actually quite ironic, because if you stop any Frenchman and ask him what the holiday refers to or why it's celebrated, he'll give you that big Gallic shrug, roll back his eyes, and let you know one way or another that he doesn't know, nor care, but if anyone ever ever considered removing one, he'd be the first in the street to protest. By the way, as a side note, most French people nowadays are atheists. Look in one of those huge Gothic cathedrals that only exist for American tourists and Art students.

A previous government tried to get rid of Pentecost a few years ago. The logical reason was that millions of dollars are lost in May because no one works, and the country kind of comes to a standstill. Four public holidays in a row are an exaggeration and cause havok. This is particularly true because of the French custom called the "Bridge". This means... well.... I've got the perfect example at hand. The Ascension Holiday is on Thursday. A number of people, if not the majority, take Friday off too, and decide to make it a long weekend. And if... say they saved up some personal days and the next holiday is the following Monday... well, that means a public holiday or two bridged together turns into a 10-day vacation. I know a "civil servant" who by juggling around 6 or 7 personal days, a few sick days, and cheating here and there -- who will ever know? -- managed to get out of the whole month. Mind you, this doesn't include the real 8-week holiday which is coming up in July and August, or the 2-week Easter holiday we just had last month. You get the point, huh? Anyway, that government directive, well, it didn't happen. It turned into an option, then a theoretic possible for practicing Catholics, then everybody and finally became the so-called "Day of Solidarity" where you can work, if you really want, out of a personal desire to make money for the country so it can fund generous social programs. Now that's gone too! And by the way, that goverment fell!

For me, these public Catholic holidays are both a terrific Godsend and a cross to bear, and add quite a bit to my floating in France. Today, for instance, everything is closed except for a few restaurants and some North African kebab shops. The sky has turned grey again, this time apparently from Icelandic volcano ash, and it rains from time to time. So, here I am at home, in my own little world. It's great cause I can do any old thing I want... bad, cause I need structure... and money. But, I've listened to radio, watched tv, surfed internet. What did we do without it? I can listen to NPR, then France Info, Radio Catalunya.... read virtually any online newspaper, and as of yet, I love those internet word reference forums/fora (what is the plural?). I learn so much. Anyday can be a full language class in 5 languages. What could I have become if they had had this when I was 13 and had no exposure to foreign languages. Zilch. One activity rolls into another, one hour into the next, morning into evening. I feel so dizzy from spending so much time cooped up with myself, thinking....



Just before my offical blog writing time, I finished reading the novel, "La Mort Heureuse" (The Happy Death) by the awesome writer Albert Camus. It deals with the crazy life of Patrice, in French Algeria, in the 1950's. In this novel, no one works, they set around drinking pastisse, listening to bands play old French tunes, take excursions in cars, drive 500 miles per hour on small coastal roads, have love affaires, take sun baths on the beach, and above all, complain about the torture of life, the sheer boredom that weighs down their soul, the terrible existentionalism that occurs naturally when one has too much time to do nothing. I guess not much has changed today... Some love Camus for his ability to explain his reality in such beautiful eloquent French. It's true... I read it out loud... Others complain because his Algeria shows no Algerians at all. Yes, living in a bubble is so typically French. Oh la la!

Rontay