Daily Archives: February 9, 2012

by Emily Monaco

Even before I moved to Paris, I’ve always felt a strong link to France. I’m not of French origin, but for some reason, throughout school French classes, watching French films and finally visiting Paris when I was 10 with my father, I’ve always thought that there was something about the country that was a visceral part of me. We learned about other parts of the former French empire in school — the French Antilles and Haiti — but I never felt the need to visit places like this as much as I did the “hexagon.”

I spent three years in France, living here and pretending that I was becoming as much a part of it as I had always felt it was part of me, but at the end of my time as an undergraduate, time ran out before I came up with a plan to stay, and so I crawled back to my native America. At the time, I felt defeated; little did I know that this forced repatriation would help foster my love for the rest of the Francophone world, particularly in America, with Quebec and Louisiana.

While in my Spanish classes, we learned just as much about Spain as we did about South America, no French teacher had ever extoled the virtues of the Acadian immigrants from France and their development of completely distinct Francophone societies in America… so, back in the States, I decided to do some research of my own, and I fell in love with what I found.

The first heartstring that was pulled was that of the music: a mix of country and folk from chez moi and the French language and words I’d always loved, Cajun music became my new background music. And the more I learned, the more I loved. I loved the joie de vivre in New Orleans, the spirit that allows them to throw a party at the drop of the hat. I loved some of the older French expressions that have made their way into the daily speech of Cajun speakers, phrases that are no longer uttered in France but have been preserved, changed, renewed over the course of four hundred years of independent development.

Perhaps more than anything else, a comparison of Carnavale in the two societies shows just how different the two Francophone populations are. I’ve been to Nicois Carnavale before; the city that’s closer to Italy than to Paris takes a cue from its neighbors in Venice for the celebration and parade. It’s a fun day out, a sort of updated version of the Festival des fous that was immortalized in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, but it’s nothing like the party that envelops New Orleans. Nice’s Carnavale, like other parades I’ve attended, always leaves me feeling like a bit of an outsider; in New Orleans, no matter who you are or where you come from, the second you cross into the French Quarter, you’re part of the party. The entire city seems to be covered in streamers and beads in bright colors; the soundrack of the town becomes cries of Laissez les bon temps rouler !

The French know how to have a good time; I’d never say anything to the contrary. The proof is in the pudding, after all; I have returned to the hexagon. But there’s something about New Orleans this time of year, even in their food: while the French choose the pale and demure galette des rois, a puff pastry masterpiece stuffed full of almond paste, Louisiana opts for a buttery brioche covered in icing and multicolored sugars, a cake as bright as their celebration. While both are delicious, just looking at New Orleans’ version reveals the differences in the ways that the two populations celebrate a good time — le bon temps.