The first day of Spring is here. It’s St. Briget’s Day in Ireland so I start my lessons with a brief introduction into the old Irish traditions which mark this day. I’ve convinced myself that Madame Bois has a St. Briget’s Cross in her classroom but after rummaging through bags, cupboards and shelves I end up covered in dust and green glitter; I spy a few mad leprechaun top hats which will come in handy for St. Patrick’s Day so my foraging may have been in dust and drawers but not in vain.
I have a map of Ireland to track Briget’s movements; birth near Dundalk, monastery in Kildare and burial in Mayo with St. Patrick and St. Columcille who are also Patron Saints of Ireland.
I explain how as a Patron Saint she was disposed of certain good qualities and is associated with certain affairs and so Irish people therefore look to her in relation to these concerns. As her day coincides with the start of spring she is safe guarder of i.) Spring, ii.) animals (three weeks of crazy creatures have served them well) and iii.) food (like fast food but not to be confused with foot ball). These three associations are acknowledged in different ways to mark her feast day; on the eve of the start of spring families traditionally prepared a feast meal. After the hard winter this spread was a test of a women’s thriftiness throughout the winter. Butter was a must and sometimes landlords would give their tenants their surplus butter so that they could celebrate this feast properly. This feast was marked by an abundance of potato dishes. I list of the different ways of serving potatoes and tell the kids how much us Irish like potatoes… boxty and fried potatoes get a look in as I tell them how you could in effect eat potatoes for each meal as many did back in the day.
Before the meal the family would sit down and make their own St. Briget’s Cross from reeds. They usually used the unwoven reeds or the formed crosses as a placemat during the meal. Often, after the meal reeds would be put on the floor and a large oatmeal cake, in the form of the cross, would be placed on it. The family would gather around in prayer and after each prayer was said a morsel of the cake would be broken off and shared around.
I illustrate the presence of St. Briget’s Cross in Irish households with my own paper formation and the help of a poster. The poster depicts an old Irish kitchen and a small cross is just about visible on the dresser. These crosses are usually found in kitchens but also in barns or stables as farmers would hang them there in the hope, of faith that, St. Briget would look after their crops and animals.
I describe a traditional old Irish house to my audience and I pass round a picture postcard of Cartlan’s thatched pub in my hometown, Kingscourt. Some kids ask how such a roof doesn’t leak. I don’t know the workings of thatch but I tell them it’s treated and is therefore waterproof. They don’t find a hole in my thatch theory and so I progress onto the second half of the class; habitats – both of the human and animal kind.
Obviously after concentrating on animals for the past three weeks we have covered a variety of animals, and these animals live in a variety of habitats; forest, jungle, garden, tree, sea, ocean, zoo, farm, field, countryside. Some animals, namely pets, live with us in our homes so we start off with this human habitat. I dwell long enough to describe the notion of a house, village, town and city. We use a little arm action to define the boundaries of these human habitats; house – pointed roof with hands in triangle formation (not to be confused with church): village – hands in front as if holding an invisible ball: town – hands out wider still: and city – arms outstretched to emphasis the vastness of a city. Like Souris City I’m told. Thank goodness for these modern day English escapisms.
I explain how when someone asks you where you live they generally mean which town or commune not what kind of building you live in so we use house as a general term (though I acknowledge, and am told by the children, that people live in all types of homes) and move unto the more particular:
Where do you live?
I live in Fort-de-France.
As per usual I tell the kids to listen to the question for clues to help them with their response. The most common mistake however is the omission of the word in. I drill that into them. I ask each pupil where they live. Some brighter sparks (or wannabe gangsta’s) tell me they live in New York. Pronunciation first. Place second. I’m not surprised to hear that some pupils live in Saint Esprit or even Marin. They eventually get a chance to ask me where I live: I live in Tivoli.
We soon move unto animal habitats. We brainstorm for different habitats and I write the corresponding names under my illustrations which include waves, grass, trees, vines and metal bars. I then ask them where certain animals live and we repeat, repeat, and repeat: in the garden, in the forest, in the field, in the sea, in the zoo, in the jungle or even in the house as it applies to pets. I highlight the difference with the word farm – on the farm. I then them hand out other creatures and endeavour to get them to articulate a full response:
Me: Where does the parrot live?
Pupil: Twee
Me: Tree
Pupil: Twee
Me: In the tree
Pupil: In the tree
Me: Where does the fish live?
Pupil: In the sea.
Me: The fish lives in the sea.
Pupil: Zee fisch live in zee sea.
Me: The fish lives in the sea.
Me: Where does the lion live?
Pupil: The lion lives in the jungle.
Me: Purrrfect.
Between each animal reference I revert back to some human instance:
I live in Tivoli. I live in Fort-de-France. I live in St. Joseph. I live in New York.
I also briefly touch on the conjugisation of verbs. It’s too early to confuse them with the ins and outs of verbs but I briefly explain the differences. To illustrate this I tell them to listen to the following three phrases carefully:
I live in Tivoli.
Where do you live?
The lion lives in the jungle.
I purposely leave the question of the lion and the snake’s habitat until the end of the exercise as I want to finish the class by teaching them a song from The Lion King: The lion sleeps tonight. So, as on cue, when the pupil has stated correctly “in the jungle” I write this phrase on a clean board and proceed as follows…
In the jungle, the mighty jungle
The lion sleeps tonight
In the jungle, the quiet jungle
The lion sleeps tonight.
Near the village, the peaceful village
The lion sleeps tonight.
Near the village, the quiet village
The lion sleeps tonight.
Hush my darling, don't fear my darling
The lion sleeps tonight
Hush my darling, don't fear my darling
The lion sleeps tonight.
Of course we only get the first line done before we have to wrap up. While I’m tidying up I let the class sing away in French and then they have to try substitute the French for the English on the board.
I’m just waiting fort the bus into town when Edoardo, the school security man, stops me. I’m not in breach of any school laws but he says I’m in guilty for not embracing him. Feckin’ French and Martinique men! Why doesn’t a smile and a wave ever suffice? Edoardo asks what I’m up to at the weekend. Pas grandes choses! So why don’t I come to a handball match on Friday with him? We’ll see…
I meet Nic in town and we pop into the bakery for refreshments before getting the bus home. My little friend in his plastic apron flashes me a smile and thanks me for returning. I buy some funny shaped pomme cannelle pastries from him.
Back at the Rowantree Ranch we have post. The passes for the Atrium have arrived and it’s the first official misuse of Nicola’s name as her pass is for a Mr. Nicola Rowan.
We retreat to our hammocks in the garden and spend the evening there with books and beers. Will calls and we tell him our news of late. Supposedly he has another bout of the flu.
The evening rolls in and as we’re a bit giddy and since I’ve been roped into giving a presentation on Ireland in Cluny next week we decide to stick on Darby O’Gill and the Little People – Sean Connery in his heyday as a Dublin man in Kerry. It’s quite a sobering film. I reckon we had to concentrate so hard just to understand the dialogue through the thick Hollywood-Irish accents that we loose our laxity. Just for kicks we put it into French et voila, it’s now comprehensible!
Our evening in the sun, in our hammocks, has given me an idea for my Valentine’s Card to Fergal so I rummage around looking for suitable resources; i.e scraps of paper. I like making cards. I use the materials I can find and combine them with God’s gifts of resourcefulness and creativity to make what I can.
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