Bastille Day

Sorry I've been negligent about this whole posting thing- last week was pretty crazy with work/French classes, and then I was whisked (more about that verb and all of its glory later) to Amsterdam this past weekend, and now my fabulous in-laws are in town for a visit.  And in the middle of all of that we celebrated Bastille Day as Frenchly as we possibly could.

My day began on a park on the Seine helping my friend Erin with one of her theater camps for children.  Due to our proximity to the Champs-Elysses (where the big parade was), we were treated to the sights of fighter planes and helicopters flying overhead throughout the lesson.  Let me tell you, trying to get twelve children between the ages of three and eight to focus is generally spotty at best; it's nigh impossible with fighter jets swooping overhead every so often.  Erin and I eventually had to admit defeat and decided to play games for the remainder of the lesson.  During a rousing game of "Simon Says," we noticed several soldiers standing a few feet off playing along (nothing like the power rush of telling members of foreign armed forces to "flap your wings and squawk like a chicken").  Turns out they were a pair of delightful fellows on their way to salute the president.  They stopped and took pictures with the children, and even let the kids keep their hats.  Adorable children+French men in uniform=All Good.

My day continued on the Champ de Mars with AH and a few folks from church whiling away our time listening to a concert and picnicking.  We even played our new favorite game of "get the French people to try pretzels with nutella"; while salty and sweet are a classic American combo, to the French the idea of dipping something salty in chocolate would be like us being asked to dip a piece of bacon in chocolate syrup.

Around 10:30, we packed up our blanket and what was left of the food and moved to a prime central location from which to see the fireworks.  Now I had been told that I simply had to see the fireworks display on the Champ de Mars as it was the height of Frenchness.  So imagine my surprise when the fireworks begin right on time (which is most un-French).  The un-Frenchness continues with the music theme for the year: Broadway.  We gazed up a the Eiffel Tower, watching the lovely display, while I quietly sang along to Cats, Singing in the Rain, and Gypsy.  The crowd around me burst into song on two numbers that I was totally unfamiliar with; according to my French friend, it was because they were from French musicals.  For the finale, my friend Mike and I were hedging bets on some Les Mis.  You know what they played instead?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qy6wo2wpT2k