L'Absurde and Noel Festivities

L'absurde: that which escapes all logic, that which doesn't make sense. This was the title of Saturday's Philosophy Club discussion. Yes my friends, my nerdness has reached frightening heights. Let me just say that Marie-Francoise is completely taken with the fact that I study philosophy, and she's been rolling with it ever since. Her latest fun idea: take me to the philosophy club discussion in her out of the way little village. It was held in Eric's (her partner) art studio, which actually made me feel kind of cool. Anyway, the speaker was a philosophy teacher from Caen or Paris or something, and he was there to speak to us about the absurd. In attendance were random French folks from all walks of life, united by their common passion for debate and thoughtful discussion. Also in attendance, a cute little Madagascarian (?) woman--MF, and a bewildered young American. Any who, the discussion was supposed to be primarily about French existentialism (of the Camus and Sartre variety). I'm afraid to say that I've only read Camus' L'Etranger (though at least I can say I read it in french), and I really am quite unfamiliar with this particular subsection of philosophy. Lucky for me, it didn't really matter. The discussion hovered around what the meaning of the word "absurd," and it turned psychological with various people divulging their various problems in life. Let me pause to tell you about the young man behind me who told us many personal stories, my favorite being the time he was high on shrooms, I believe, and throwing plates at a window. He suddenly realized, mid plate toss, that his life up to that time was absurd (and no, not absurd during the drug induced vandalism). He worked at a butcher shop and suddenly discovered that eating animals was wrong. He loves them too much. He really likes horses in particular. I know this because he told us all in quite a bit of detail. Eric later told me that the club meeting turned into an AA meeting instead of a philosophy discussion. I didn't mind, though, because I was there to soak in their stories and their language. It was brilliant.

During the meeting I had things to say, but did I? Of course not. I didn't ever speak in any of my English speaking philo classes, so why would I in front of a bunch of random French people. I did, however, sneak a few comments over to MF, and she tried to get me to contribute. No. Not gonna happen. Later in the car we discussed my views on morality and how I don't think I can make sense of it without God. She was very interested. It was almost evangelizing, to tell you the truth, though I felt uncomfortable talking about it (not that I should have, I just did, cause I'm a wuss). Of course she kept asking me more and more questions, and I couldn't just lie. So I told her about how I don't think you can have an authoritative and objective moral standard without God and how if God's not real then I think morality is kind of shot, and since I refuse to give up on morality, I can't very well give up on God. Some of you know where I'm going with this, some don't, but I'll leave it at that for now. I'll grant that this needs clarification, and you can imagine how muddled it all came out in French, but out it came just the same. I think MF was shocked to hear me say I believed in God, like really believed. Though I did tell her that my belief doesn't mean I think I can prove that He's there, it just means that personally I'm convinced-- and that conviction really only carries weight with me and no one else. She was intrigued, if nothing else. Anyway, we ate at her house afterwards and this is all I'll add: I ate raw meat. Now some of you know that I am a carnivore if there ever was one, but even I have limits. She got impatient with the roast beef because it was late and we were hungry so we just ate it semi-cooked. She asked if I minded my meat a little pink. No, of course not. Then she served it: the middle was purple. Pink, fine. Purple? As Ron White would say, "Things that make you go... bleh." But I ate. I ate it all. I thought I was going to hurl, but I ate every bite of that beef. Etiquette trumps health, after all. I still shudder at the thought. (Note: it didn't taste that bad, but it looked so unappetizing.)

On Sunday, Ireland (the other Rachel) came to Church with me because one of her teachers goes to my little Church and has been trying to get Rach to come for weeks. Well this Sunday the teacher's daughter was in a little Christmas play, so Rach decided to come with me. She's catholic, but only culturally, and she wasn't looking forward to it. But I think she had a good time. We sang carols (loved it, I got teary eyed at Silent Night because it reminds me of Christmas Eve service at Elmbrook with the candles...). The play was interesting. This is what I understood: there was a family of Russians, a guy with a sword, and a fire. Whatever. Merry Christmas!

Monday I had a new class to teach to help Ann-Helen's students get caught up because AH has been sick and since I've missed so much, well I can't really complain about taking on an extra class. Yves promised that if we started this week all the students would be informed and would know when/where to go. Right. NO ONE came. Just like last Friday morning at 8am, no one. Oh and I said to Yves earlier that day, "Hey I have your kids at 5, I'm looking forward to seeing them." "Really? Oh, that's right, good good," he says. Anyway, his kids have missed because I've been gone and before that for 2 weeks they just didn't show. So did they come this Monday? No. No one. I'm feeling unloved. Speaking of missed classes, on Tuesday I arrived for my older kids and half the class was in some meeting that no one told me about. So instead of doing their projects I played Christmas music and we played pictionary. Oh and today I came to my other class of older kids to find a new teacher in there and them all taking a test. Oh, didn't I know they have testing today? No. No one tells me a bloody thing around here! I'm getting frustrated. Whatever. They're French.... I must keep telling myself that.

Last night was our Christmas Party! We made mussels and potatoes and chicken a la Normandie and real Champagne and a bouche de Noel (cake shaped like a log). It was fabulous. We needed it. We exchanged our Secret Santa gifts and there were smiles all around. I love these girls. Rach was my santa and she got me a french cook book along with a promise to help me learn (she's mortified at my lack of domestic skills). I'll keep you posted on how that goes. Oh and our upstairs neighbor (which I didn't know we had) came down and told us not to be so loud. That's when you know it's a good party. I suppose it was a Wednesday... Oh well. Joyeux Noel!

I love you all. I won't be reporting back until after the New Year. I'm heading up to London soon to see my family (!!!) and then to Paris and Caen with them. After they head back I get to see Dana (!!!) in Paris and then we're going to Belfast (where we're going to meet up with Irish Rach) and Edinburgh. I can't contain my excitement. I hope to have some good stories when I get back! Have a wonderful Christmas and a happy New Year. Cheers!