Beautiful Cynicism III

Everybody knows a turkey
and some mistletoe
Help to make the season bright
Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow
Will find it hard to sleep tonight.

They know that Santa’s on his way
He’s loaded lots of toys
and goodies on his sleigh
And every mother’s child is gonna spy
To see if reindeer
really know how to fly.

And so I’m offering this simple phrase
To kids from one to ninety-two
Although it’s been said
many times, many ways
Merry Christmas to you.

Après trois orages en dedans d’un mois, les forêts du sud de la Colombie-Brittanique, ma province natale, ont été dévastés. Les arbres, parmi les plus vieilles du monde, sont détruits. Les arbres qui ont symbolisé la beauté, qui ont donné la vie, qui ont protégé les animaux, qui ont intimidé tous ceux qui les ont vues; les arbres qui rayonnaient de la vie, les arbres qui ont surveillé le terrain pendant des siècles; les dieux naturels de la région.

La photo en haut est de Stanley Park, une espace de 400 hectares (plus grand que Central Park de New York) dans la ville de Vancouver. Il y avait environ 1,000,000 arbres; on dit qu’en une partie du parc, 9 arbres sur 10 ont tombés dans les vents forts de ces dernières semaines. Dans la photo, on ne voit que quelques arbres; avant les orages, on n’aurait pas pu voir des espaces entre les arbres. Je pleure pour ma province.

He’ll be here
With the answer to the prayers
That you made through the year
You’ll get yours
If you’ve done everything you should extra special good
He’ll make this December the one you’ll remember
The best and the merriest you ever did have
Everybody’s waiting for the man with the bag
‘Cause Christmas is coming again

He’ll be here
With the answer to the prayers
That you made through the year
You’ll get yours
If you’ve done everything you should extra special good
He’ll make this December the one you’ll remember
The best and the merriest you ever did have
Everybody’s waiting, they’re all congregating
Waiting for the man with the bag

Better watch out now!

Yes indeed, I’ve become a real ‘pain in the arse’… Tee-hee-hee.

Friday’s ice capade was the third fall I’ve had in the past 6 months. I’m not usually a clumsy person! And I’m certainly not used to the near-permanent pain and stiffness that resulted from my midnight madness. My lovely Polish boy has been very good about my whining and moping about, helping me to apply muscle-relaxing spray to my backside, putting up with the stench of menthol and eucalyptus filling his apartment from the sticky cooling pads I had stuck to my back all weekend… I can now walk without pain, but sitting is still a problem – as is any movement that involves stretching or crouching.

Vive le vent, vive le vent
Vive le vent d’hiver
Qui s’en va sifflant, soufflant
Dans les grands sapins verts…
Oh! Vive le temps, vive le temps
Vive le temps d’hiver
Boule de neige et jour de l’an
Et bonne année grand-mère…
Joyeux, joyeux Noël
Aux mille bougies
Quand chantent vers le ciel
Les cloches de la nuit,
Oh! Vive le vent, vive le vent
Vive le vent d’hiver
Qui rapporte aux vieux enfants
Leurs souvenirs d’hier…

Et le vieux monsieur
Descend vers le village,
C’est l’heure où tout est sage
Et l’ombre danse au coin du feu
Mais dans chaque maison
Il flotte un air de fête
Partout la table est prête
Et l’on entend la même chanson:

Boule de neige et jour de l’an
Et bonne année grand-mère!
Vive le vent d’hiver!

The door is always open
The neighbors pay a call
And Father John before he’s gone
Will bless the house and all
Our Hearts are light, our spirits bright
We’ll celebrate our joy tonight
Is Christmas in Killarney
With all of the folks at home

We’ll decorate the Christmas tree
When all the family’s here
Around a roaring fire
We will raise a cup of cheer
There’s gifts to bring, And songs to sing
And laughs to make the rafters ring
Is Christmas in Killarney
With all of the folks at home

We’ll take the horse and sleigh all
Across the fields of snow
Listening to the jingle bells
Everywhere we go
How grand it feels to click your heels
And dance away to the jigs and reels
It’s Christmas in Killarney
With all of the folks at home

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Toys in every store
But the prettiest sight to see is the holly that will be
On your own front door.

A pair of hopalong boots and a pistol that shoots
Is the wish of Barney and Ben;
Dolls that will talk and will go for a walk
Is the hope of Janice and Jen;
And Mom and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again!

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Everywhere you go;
There’s a tree in the Grand Hotel, one in the park as well,
The sturdy kind that doesn’t mind the snow.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas;
Soon the bells will start,
And the thing that will make them ring is the carol that you sing
Right within your heart.

On est presque le 12 décembre. Il fait beau ces derniers jours; pas de soleil, mais un vent léger et doux. La neige fond lentement. On marche avec des pas petits, glissant sur les troittoirs.

Ma grand-mère parle des fêtes qui viennent. Elle veut retourner chez elle, pour cuisiner! Faire de la holubtsi et borscht et pyrohy et les tartes et les biscuits pour Noël. Ce soir, elle nous a demander d’écrire une liste: des cadeaux qu’elle veut acheter pour la famille. Or, more precisely, the gifts she would like us to buy for others on her behalf. This weekend one nurse said he thought she should be able to leave the hospital for short periods of time, and that there is no medical reason why she shouldn’t. (The doctors won’t agree to this, I’m sure – and that’s not just me being cynical; past experience tells me they aren’t particularly quick to embrace our suggestions.) The holiday plan was hatched today: that we spend Christmas with my Baba, at the hospital, forgoing the traditional big family dinner for the cramped but cozy quarters of her hospital room, the only digestibles in sight likely to be coffee and donuts from the cafeteria.

December 10th: International Day of Human Rights, as declared by the United Nations. (Pourquoi tant de Français disent toujours “droits de l’homme”? Au Canada, la terminologie “officiel” est “droits de la personne” – plus égalitaire, moins sexiste, non?) But what does that mean, exactly? Whose human rights – because, we must admit, though we all like to talk about “universal human rights”, many people define “rights” differently. Whose definition do we use? The UN has their Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which one would imagine would serve as a template for today; but many of those declared rights, agreed-to by dozens of countries as far back as 1948, are still unfulfilled, even in the most advanced, wealthy, developed, First-World countries:

Freedom from torture, or cruel, inhumane treatment or punishment.
Freedom of expression and opinion.
Freedom of thought, conscience, and religion.
Right to education.
Right to employment, paid holidays, protection from unemployment, and social security.

Pour certains, l’accès à l’eau propre est un droit; pour d’autres, l’eau n’est qu’un produit à acheter et être vendu pour un bénéfice. Pour certains, avoir un lit à dormir dedans est un droit; pour d’autres, la logement est une question personnelle, et si on est sans-abri, cela n’a rien à faire avec la société. Pour certains, la capacité de porter le voile est un droit chéri; pour d’autres, être libre pour s’habiller comme on veut est un droit non-reconnu. Pour certains, être reconnue en tant que “personne” est un droit; pour d’autres, être traitée comme une possession est la norme.

Même dans plusieurs cultures soi-disant évolué et libéral, nous n’avons pris que les premiers pas. On aime dire que tout le monde veut les mêmes choses: être aimé; avoir quelqu’un pour aimer; avoir la confiance et le soutien de ses amis et de sa famille; vivre dans un communauté où l’on partage ses joies et ses intérêts; être capable de fournir sa famille une maison et assez à manger; ce genre de choses. Mais on n’aime pas avouer que ces idéales ne sont pas universelles – ou qu’au moins ils sont conditionnelles. Some people want these things for themselves but not for others – the “other” who is often a member of the “wrong” religion, or is “too foreign”, or is mentally ill, or is slipping into poverty. Some people want these things for everybody, but attach conditions – being in a loving relationship is important for us all, but only those relationships with which I agree (no homosexual, or interracial, relationships, for example).

How did I get to this place? I’m not sure. It all started with a casual glance out the window, at the beauty of December… A lot of people will pay lip service to today’s UN holiday. Many governments will renew their pledges to “make the world a better place”. Many people will laud the UNDHR and recommit themselves to honouring its words. And then tomorrow, walking across the frozen landscapes under the winter sun, mesmerized by Christmas shopping and freezing temperatures, many will forget everything they said today; and the white men in suits that lead most of the Western countries will return to their usual ways, the rhetoric of rights and peace transformed into so much hot air.