Le monde a l'envers by Jane Tolbert

This image is taken from the archives of the BN available at www.gallica.fr.

Years ago, I visited Nice at the time of carnival. Numerous decorations-- including a dancing ayatollah, which was quickly dismantled—lined the Place Massena. The figures on the floats—often called the “grosses têtes,” or big heads-- presented burlesque caricatures with bulging eyes, bright colors that emphasized a theme. In the excitement of my frantic picture taking (it was my first carnival), my purse “disappeared,” but my spirits remained high with the energy created by this “monde a l’envers.”

Some years later, I gained another perspective, the behind-the-scene preparations for the carnival. I accompanied an Opio pre-school class to a large warehouse where workers assembled the “grosses têtes.” This carnival work was something of a family tradition, passed down for generations, from father to son. Back at the school in Opio, parents and teachers supervised as children constructed their own masks. Although some disappointments occurred--notably, the shrinking of the papier mâché heads that made the masks difficult or impossible to wear-- on Mardi Gras, a procession of school kids wound through the streets of Opio, dressed in their costumes and elaborate masks and brandishing noise-makers that ranged from small horns to kitchenware and a few antique drums loaned by Ninon or Michel from their antique store.

Although historically carnivals have appealed to all social classes, the Nice carnival has catered increasingly to tourism. The expense of tickets for the grandstands and fenced areas (between 10 and 40 euros) prevents many of the locals from attending the main events such as the Battle of Flowers. However, the floats can still be seen outside of scheduled events.

Local attempts to continue a 20-year tradition of a small carnival in Nice have met with resistance. Permission to hold the independent “ Carnaval de Saint Roch has been denied due to the violence associated with the past year’s event. Comments posted in the Nice Matin on Feb. 2, 2010, provide some insight into the tradition. Most writers complained about the lack of spontaneity of the organized carnival, the loss of the Niçois tradition under the guise of security concerns. As AlainB writes (Feb. 10, 2010), “We live in a time of standardization, drab and very disciplined.” ProvenPat also points to the “exclusion” of the Niçois from local events and the loss of folklore with the disappearance of the popular street carnivals.

Carnivals (or Mardi Gras celebrations) are known for the pulsating atmosphere, lavish decorations and excess that precedes the fasting (or giving up certain foods) associated with Lent. Historically, the carnival provided the “monde à l’envers,” or an upsid- down world in which roles were reversed (jesters became king for a day in the Fête des Fous). It’s no surprise that many of these activites were curtailed just because of the rowdy behavior of participants or the inclination to ridicule officials.

The problems of commercialization or loss of a tradition aside, this year’s carnival has been centered on an ecological theme—the introduction of a sustainable way of thinking (the blue planet) and the end of the old ways (the dinosaur). The carnival will bring attention to the problems faced by the planet, and many of its props are made with recyclable materials.

This year, I can travel only virtually to the carnival. I will miss the energy of large, festive crowds (but will not lose my purse) but not the logistics of getting to the carnival. I can ponder the pros and cons of commercialization and tourism to the detriment of folklore and popular events. I can think about the way in which the carnival brings life into the winter season in Nice (or other cities like New Orleans). So much to think about.

I wonder what the kids in Opio did this year? Did they march the streets in their masks with their noisemakers? Let’s hope that the spirit of tradition lives on in the smaller festivals that enable children to experience a carnival first hand.
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I probably won't make the Nice carnival next year, but I would like to see New Orleans.

To see the images of the Nice carnival, please visit the following sites:
www.nicematin.fr (for a photo gallery) or http://www.nicecarnaval.com/carnaval/galerie-photo-corso-carnavalesque.php (the official carnival site).

Matching Up by Jane Tolbert

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, and store aisles are filled with candy hearts, chocolate kisses and bright red animals. We have entered the season of love, a phenomenon marketed by the online dating sites throughout the year.

Statistics seem to favor the singles—approximately one-third of the baby boomers seek relationships. An estimated 800 dating sites exist in the United States, according to an interview carried by the online publication, Network World (see “The Hottest Trends in Online Dating,” by Carolyn Duffy Marsen, 2/7/08). Results from a Pew study on Internet dating have indicated that 11 percent of American internet users have visited online websites to meet people (see the Pew's Internet and American Life Study, March 2006).

Both in the States and France, traditional online sites enable users to create a profile with photos, select from a list of likes and dislikes (body build, ethnicity, religion, children, pets, smoking, drinking) and provide a personal description of themselves and their ideal partner. Numerous articles have addressed the way in which people refashion themselves (that is, men may add a hairline or a few inches to their height, and women may subtract a few years from their age). After all, this is a virtual world. But these virtual recreations of the “self” seem to be the problem. Online gives you the freedom to be who you want to be, to change what you dislike. There is a slight difference between the virtual and real worlds.


Although the statistics are encouraging, anecdotal evidence from friends who have used online dating is anything but . . . . Initially, they were concerned about privacy and security issues of online dating. But the sites protect identity—emails, phone numbers and addresses are not exchanged. And most people used their pets’ name as their online identity anyway. Everyone exhibited caution when arranging a personal meeting—use a well-frequented location (like a bookstore or café or popular watering hole), let friends know and don’t drive off with a stranger.

Surprisingly, more problems occurred because of the discrepancies between virtual and real profiles. For example, the men who exhibited a sparkling wit online—a trait that appealed to many in the academic community--morphed into embittered cynics in person. One businessman who described himself as a community leader had so many DUIs he could not drive to meet his date. Another, who stressed his easy-going nature became very controlling, arriving at the meeting with a addendum to his initial list of dislikes.

The Florida males described themselves loving walks on the beach, sports, pets and gourmet dinners. Their photos show them lounging in board shorts, by a pool or on a boat. They most often describe themselves as easy going and very flexible, which seemed to contradict the list of dislikes, spontaneous (often misspelled but implied they are men of action rather than the stereotypical Doug on the TV show, the “King of Queens”).

In France, many of the men who responded to a search in a 20-mile radius around Cannes actually lived in the North of France, a region plagued by lengthy winters. Their photos seemed to be taken in cafés, night spots or via a webcam. For the most part, these “tender, social, generous” men seek a positive woman who wants to share their lives (or refaire leur vie). Some express themselves poetically (they want to fall in love, offer flowers, live for the moment). But they also want someone who is attentive, sparkling and independent. Some of the descriptions are short and concise; others are long and somewhat tedious. For example, one 54-year old man organized the description of his ideal mate by theme—physical and mental attributes, values and lifestyle, and hobbies. His paragraph read like a “how to” book on relationships. But one man provided a refreshing contrast—his only criterion was that a female friend be “sympa.”

But all of us in our 40s and 50s have met enough men to have developed criteria for the ideal mate. Maybe that it is the problem. Too many criteria, too many parameters, too many virtual networks. Something about that one man whose only requirement was “sympa.” I wonder what he’s doing for Valentine’s?

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The IKEA Experience by Jane Tolbert

Mies van der Rohe Barcelona chairs – Saarinen womb chairs – B&B Italia – Ligne Roset . . . just a few reasons why I have never bought furniture. Instead, I have lived for years on slightly tattered furnishings, waiting for the day when I could justify a designer item.

I’m probably like many people. I have lived on castoffs—some of which are quite nice—from family or neighbors or the occasional estate sale. I have made only the occasional purchase (such as a yellow armoire and a Louis XV style small table). My excuse? Well, the price for the designer items, and then the fear the furniture may be damaged by pets or broken during one of my frequent moves. As my grandparents used to say, “Three moves is equivalent to one fire.”

My inaction gradually wore down. My daughter planned a visit to the States (and I had no comfortable furniture), and the kids’ threatened to post a photo of the living room on FaceBook.

A gift card from my son for IKEA got me to rethink my current MO. To ensure that I actually used the card, my two kids drove me to the IKEA store in Orlando a couple of weeks ago. I knew they meant business--we would be in that store until I located a couch and bookshelves. We wandered through aisles and aisles of household items. Sofas, chairs, tables, bookshelves, lamps, and rows and rows of kitchen items, all of which were in bright colors.

The furniture is reasonably priced and seems to withstand people and pets, at least that has been my experience with some castoff IKEA furniture. But there is just one small detail. . . . The IKEA experience involves a lot of hands-on work. Everything has to be assembled. A venture I would never undertake alone.

We selected our items, marked our list with a small wooden pencil, identifying the product, aisle and row. For the larger items, customers recover them on the ground floor in an area resembling a warehouse. The L-shaped couch came somewhat compressed. The bookshelves were quite heavy. We really needed to be two people to load our carts (though the other shoppers were quite helpful). We made it to the checkout, paid with the gift card and arranged for a transporter to deliver our merchandise. There, that wasn’t so bad.

A few days later, the furniture arrived at 2 p.m. The delivery men unloaded numerous large boxes and smiled. “Have a great afternoon,” they said, driving off.
And then, the real work began. The bookshelves and small tables were easy. But the L-shaped couch required teamwork. We put covers on cushions. We screwed on feet and armrests. And we even had to puncture two small holes in the fabric covering to complete the assembly. After four hours, we finished at 6 p.m. Although the Barcelona chairs will have to wait, the living room looks pretty good.

“We’re not through yet,” the kids said, pointing to the old TV, now an ungainly item posed atop my sleek Swedish bookshelves.

Next year. . . .

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When the GPS and I parted company by Jane Tolbert

In the 17th century, natural philosophers (or scientists) worked to solve the problem of determining terrestrial longitude. They made observations of the eclipses of the satellites of Jupiter or the Moon from Paris, Aix-en-Provence, Tunis, Rome and other cities. The difference in times of the eclipse at various locations equaled the difference in terrestrial longitude.

These observers had numerous challenges to overcome—inaccurate time pieces and maps, poor quality instruments and the absence of a standardized procedure, and no prime meridian. Months in advance they began preparations for endeavors that could be fraught with problems like a cloud cover. Sometimes they counted the seconds to the midpoint of the eclipse by using their pulse or reciting the Ave Maria. Nevertheless, they made quality observations. What marvels would they have accomplished with a GPS.

I have always been fascinated by navigation especially since I have a poor sense of orientation myself. Friends and family hesitate to ride with me because we never know when or if we will arrive at our destination. Living on a coastline offers certain advantages—when I hit water, I know I am either on the Atlantic or the Mediterranean. But once I have to drive inland, I become disoriented. In terms of geographical coordinates, I am challenged. A GPS seemed to offer an obvious solution.

The GPS had a large map displayed on a screen attached to my windshield and a voice (either male or female) that issued verbal directions or recalculated the itinerary if I missed a turn. It could indicate not only destinations and “home” but also parking lots or service stations. What more could I want!

The first trial use took place in Orlando, a city where I have spent many hours lost on beltways wandering somewhere in the urban blend of communities. To test the GPS, we plugged in the coordinates of the IKEA store near the Millenia Mall, a route which was fairly simple (even for someone like me). But, oh misère. The GPS did not take us along the most logical route, but it led us through back roads and inner city neighborhoods before it deposited us in the vicinity of IKEA, which we found only because of the large size of the store. We had arrived at our destination but only after a circuitous route. I felt betrayed by my GPS.

We tested the GPS a second time on a trip this week to Coconut Grove and South Beach (Miami), which is basically a straight shoot south from our hometown. We drove along I-95, took the turnpike at Jupiter, and then passed the exit for Palm Beach. At Fort Lauderdale, the GPS insisted we had missed our turn. I ignored the frequent recommendations to exit. Was it my imagination or had my GPS become more insistent. Each time, it added an additional 10 minutes to our itinerary and announced, “Recalculating,” or directed us to make a U-turn. Did it know something we didn’t? Were there new roads or shortcuts? Or had someone reprogrammed the GPS . . . . Given that walls of construction in that part of Florida blocked my view of the coastline, I questioned my ability to navigate even these highways. . . .

To avoid hearing the GPS add an additional 10-minute leg to our journey, I exited in an area of abject poverty in North Miami. No road signs indicated how to return to the Interstate, and the GPS remained strangely silent. No option existed for a “get me out of here” or an “SOS” call. Instead, we asked directions at a service station. A Hispanic clerk who did not speak English explained we could continue south because there was no traffic, or we could return to the Interstate via a series of right and left turns. On the remainder of our trip, the GPS gave advice, which ranged from accurate to erroneous. This experience indicated to me that technology needed to be supplemented with a map or competent driver. Or, as my daughter suggested, get a chauffeur.

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Beware of falling iguanas and other exotics by Jane Tolbert

Normally, in coastal areas, our media stories focus on water-related issues—tropical storms, the late spring and summer nesting of loggerhead turtles, the dangers of rip tides or shark attacks, or the impact of the freeze on the agribusiness. With our prolonged freeze following New Year’s, we had other newsworthy elements—falling iguanas and sluggish pythons. Not to mention the attention all homeowners lavished on their very tropical (non-native) palms or the lament over the recently planted St. Augustine grass.

The media carried warnings not to wrap the somewhat frozen iguanas in blankets—they can awaken from their catatonic state. And the Florida Wildlife Commission opened the hunting season to allow the “harvest” of pythons, indigenous to Central and South America, not Florida.



Manatees in a Satellite Beach canal



Pelicans on Mathes Bridge, South Tropical Trail

But the problem is more profound and relates to the introduction of exotics, or non-native species, into Florida. With the rapid development of the state beginning in the early 20th century, the ecosystem has been tampered with in constant efforts to “improve on paradise.” For decades, people introduced introducing flora and fauna that seemed appropriate for a tropical region that could lure tourists and investors. But these changes damaged the ecosystem and altered the hydrology, hence endangering the native species.

But the recent freeze has also introduced hardships to the native species that have suffered because their habitats have already been altered with the encroachment of development or the introduction of non-native species. Manatees have congregated in a narrow canal in Satellite Beach. They are now having problems returning to the Indian River Lagoon. The pelicans went a bit hungry since the fish hid in the depths of the water. Sea turtles also suffered from the cold. According to the website of the Florida Wildlife Commission, more than 3,000 cold-stunned turtles have been rescued.

This past week, our temperatures have returned to the norm. The canal has been dredged in Satellite Beach to enable the manatees to return to the lagoon. The pelicans are swooping down on the waters. I haven’t heard about iguana casualty or the number of python trophies procured by the hunters.

Well, one good thing is my St. Augustine grass seems to have frozen. Maybe this will precipitate my efforts to introduce a native landscape, one that requires less water and fewer pesticides and fertilizers to survive.

La politesse oblige by Jane Tolbert

The notes with clip art posted on the communal bulletin board (under lock and key) at the Juan-les-Pins apartment were anything but polite! Dogs are tolerated as long as they do not bark, etc. But parking vehicles along the drives is prohibited. No acknowledgment was made of the flooded underground parking lots. I was appalled by the lack of civility. Quelle audace! Didn’t these members of the governing board (le syndic) realize that France had changed in the last 20 years?! POINT D’ INTERROGATION et D’EXCLAMATION. The French now days are very polite and openly helpful. The syndic’s discourteous was outdated. My first reaction was to scribble something in lipstick on the locked, glass case. But that would have appeared . . rude.

In the post-war years, France gained a terrible reputation—at least among the non-Francophone travelers—for its discourteous behavior. Rumors even circulated about a pervasive grumpy attitude at Euro Disney and major hotels catering to foreigners. Those things have changed. In an earlier post, I wrote about the new bureaucratic mindset (le nouveau esprit fonctionnaire). Although I didn’t know the reason for change, I did notice the unwavering courteous behavior of the clerks and case workers in the immigration section of the Prefecture, and the absence of pushing and shoving in lines at the post office. But I also noticed something else—posted warnings of the fines and risk of imprisonment that could occur if clients harassed these government workers. Overall, pets and people seemed quite considerate of others.



With the rudeness rampant on television (such as the sitcoms about dysfunctional families and judges of today’s dance or singing competitions) and in classrooms, you could assume that civility and politeness were things of the past. But France has made a national attempt to bring back la politesse. The more pleasant daily interactions with all levels of officials may have stemmed from educational and information campaigns that stressed the need to show respect for others. Civic duty is now part of the academic curriculum in public schools. Campaigns also have been led by hospitals to request that patients be less abusive of staff, in public transit as well as at sporting events. Primary school children have always been taught the magic words (les mots magiques)--please, thank you and you are welcome. Now, reminders have been issued to adults (les grandes personnes) as well.

Tradition attributes the development of a society of civility and courtesy to the model provided by the Royal Court. Letters exchanged by 17th-century correspondents are replete with expressions of civility and courtesy. “Excuse me for inconveniencing you. . . . I assure you that I was infinitely pleased to learn of the favorable reception you received. . . . . I congratulate you with all my heart.” In fact, much ink is expended. This style of courteous writing must have required a tremendous display of fortitude by both writer and reader. Not only was the main body of text prefaced by these expressions but the letter also concluded with similar expressions.

And anyone who has studied French in high school or college remembers those lengthy archaic hangovers used in formal correspondence. Veuillez-agréer, Monsieur ou Madame, l’expression de mes sentiments distingués. Nous vous remercions. . . . J’ai l’honneur de vous informer. . . . Under the guise of politeness, these expressions implied a tone of slight disdain, maintained a distance between sender and recipient and often prefaced unpleasant news (e.g., you did not meet our credentials for hiring; your residency visa has expired). Although these expressions continue to be used, most correspondence today used a more personal and direct approach.

Numerous booklets published between the 17th and 20th centuries have provided instruction on civility and polite behavior—oral and written communication, tact and wit as well as the purity of language. The syndic could benefit from perusing some of these manuals of courtesy, all of which are available online at www.gallica.fr, the website of the Bibliothèque Nationale, or asking any French school child about the magic words. . . Please, thank you and you are welcome.

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Florida Freeze - Wrapping up. . . .the plants by Jane Tolbert

Florida evokes images of warm, sunny beaches in winter months while the rest of the country braces for dire conditions. Most of the time the weather is warm and sunny, but we have our seasons.

In the summer months, we haul out our storm shutters (now hidden somewhere under Christmas decorations). In the winter, we get out patchwork quilts, blankets, sheets or just about anything to protect our large plants during a freeze. We drag in the numerous terracotta pots of begonias, impatiens, and mystery plants and stash them on the back porch or kitchen counter until warmer weather returns. We discover that the grapefruit, kumquat, and Persian lime all have roots that have grown outside the pots into the ground. Those plants that remain outside will be tightly bundled.

The process of protecting plants begins when the weather forecasters announce a cold front and the possibility of a freeze. We dig into trunks, take linens off the guest bed, and try to protect gardens before we too are exposed to wind chill. For days at a time, flower beds and fragile trees are decked out in personal bedding--stuff that usually is not aired publicly. . . .at least not since the elimination of clotheslines.



Day 2 of the Cold--Strawberries at $1.97. . . .

Statewide, freezes are taken seriously. Agriculture ranks second just after tourism as a major Florida industry. The agribusiness represents $100 billion. Of course, these crops need more than a grandmother’s quilts and guest room sheets for protection.

Since the state began keeping data on weather (from the 1830s), freezes have reconfigured the geography of citrus growing. Each successive freeze pushes the zone further south. And I remember the Christmas freeze of 1989 that decimated acres of citrus in central Florida.

Currently, we have a week of cold, an unusually long period by Florida standards, according to weather forecasters. The media have been running wild. Days one and two of coverage focused on the potential crop loss, particularly strawberries, which were to be harvested. The media also used the analogy of a boxing match in headlines that read something like this: Florida gets past round one in the freeze and prepares to slug it out. . . . In day three of plunging nighttime temperatures, weather still makes headlines. Yesterday’s (Jan. 6, 2010) from around the state read like this:

- Miami Herald – “South Florida cold to stay through weekend”
- Gainesville Sun – “Cold snap gripping Gulf states threatens Florida crop”
- Florida Today (Melbourne) – “Cold's grip tightens as Brevard hits record low temperature”
- News Herald (Panama City) – “Experts: Cold snap doesn't disprove global warming”

While earlier stories carried photos of heavily bundled school children, the more recent stories have photos of ice-covered oranges. The implication--Florida had entered the next ice age. But the caption explained the use of micro-sprinklers to coat the plants in ice actually protects them.

Will the cold weather keep my friends from visiting? After all, our low night low is higher than their daytime high. Or is the fact they have seen the bedding strewn on lawns and plants that might keep them away.