Pere Noel Visits French Kindergarten 9 Days Early

Iron Discipline Averts Panic; Some Kids Sing With Mayor

I have had a lot of experience with this business. The other parents will try to do something 'useful' for an hour, but the only thing sensible to do is go to the librarie and get the papers and then go to the tabac and have a quick cafe, maybe play Loto, and get back to the school - before 9:30. Although the assembly room is the new kindergarten, it is too small to hold all of the parents, and if you are the usual 15 minutes 'French-late,' you will be left standing at the back of the room.

The big windows on the right are covered by drapes and the light is lousy for photos and video cameras. Before the new kindergarten was built, if it was raining, these fetes were held under sort of a hanger, where the light was equally bad. There are lots of lights in the room, but they are all pointing at the audience. Unless somebody has a 'pro' flash, their lights will not reach their kids. Your experienced Paris Pages reporter gets a seat in the second row.

By 9:45 all the seats are filled, except those reserved for local dignitaries, and the walls are lined and the back is two deep in parents. At the entrance, they are about six deep.

The grade three 'Crayon d'Or' went to Pierre-Louis for his original 'Metalochien.' Copyright 1995 Maillard.

The little kids come in, herded into their places by their minders, who might have one worked the stockyards - ah no, a third of these kids, the three-year-olds, have never seen an audience before. Their parents frantically semaphore signals and some kids actually see them and wave back, being pretty cool about it - a little wave, hold the teddy up - they have confidence in their herders after all. They look more like an audience than on our side of the corral.

The dignitaries arrive last, as they seem to think is their privilege to do. And without much further ado - and that's the first time I've ever tried that word - ado - the 'Mistress of the School,' with microphone and amplification, leads each of the three classes in their particular song. The herders coach from the sidelines. Most of the kids sing. Mine puts his thumb in his mouth and listens; the serious music critic.

The mayor takes the mike and leads a song. Despite coaching, not many kids sing along. Maybe they don't know the song; maybe their patents didn't vote for the mayor - but paid for this room too small with light too dim. No, the kids don't know that.

Here is the real Pere Noel in person. No chimney, so he just popped in through window.

When this is over, there is a bit of a fumble, the drapes part and the Pere Noel - Santa Claus - steps in from outside. The parents surge. Oh, what the glare from outside must be doing to the camera light meters! Flashes galore, blitzes partout; confusion - something being handed out - herders doing their job - the parents in a frenzy - call the cops! - no - he's got his eye screwed into his video camera, zoomed-in on his kid - the one who used to be really nasty about where we parked during the frantic morning kid-delivery. (That problem got solved by simply eliminating all public street parking within a 100 metres of the school - so now the parking problem is a 100 metres further away.)

And suddenly it is over. The kids file out the way they came in, out the back through the cafeteria. We are told to get lost for another hour - when are we supposed to do the Saturday morning shopping? In the afternoon? That's zoo time, if you wait until then.

Saturday afternoon is when the dads are supposed to drill holes in the walls, and bang on pipes or something. Nobody sane goes shopping. But, even when there aren't these transport strikes during the week driving people crazy, millions of people do go shopping on Saturday afternoons in France. Millions know it in advance and they go ahead and do it anyhow. Of course, country people, used to their marches, do all their shopping in the morning - as most marches close down after noon.

After the hour is up and another cafe has been downed, we go and collect our little treasured jewels. For many parents, it is the first time in their classroom. Although this particular school is new - what a pleasant room it seems; with lots of light pouring in, on all these neat little 'areas' within the room. Wouldn't it be nice to have an office like this?

Max and classroom pals check over their booty very carefully, then spoil lunch with it.

Max and I collected his booty and walked out of the school. He remembered the Pere Noel, even if he hadn't remembered the songs. They will sing them again next year - if there is another Fete de Noel. There's talk of suppressing it.

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