All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist.–Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five
Strasbourg, France is one of my moveable feasts. Years on, my glorious and trying stint in Strasbourg moves with me and through me. The city has accompanied me in my successive endeavors. I protect Strasbourg. I revel in Strasbourg. I share Strasbourg. On occasion, I return to this cherished touchstone city.
Last night, when tragedy struck in my old stomping grounds, I realized that a part of me still inhabits Strasbourg. If I’ve kept this place with me through the years, I now understand that I also left a slightly younger, more naïve self in the stunning city on the banks of the Ill River. Removed from time, I still gaze at the pink sandstone cathedral in the center of town, I wander the uneven pedestrian ways of La Petite France, and I frequent the Marché des Producteurs on Saturday mornings. I pop into chic boutiques, and I track down the flakiest baguette in the city.
The Christmas market violence that rocked Strasbourg also shook me. It rattled all of us who entrust our more innocent, wide-eyed selves to this timeless place.
Inspriations
A favorite Strasbourg tea spot
In 2010, while living in France, I hosted Thanksgiving for 24 American college students. Our “Franksgiving” celebration was boisterous and joyful. My students decorated my apartment with handmade construction paper leaves and turkeys. I cooked for days in the rickety Strasbourg kitchen—green beans, apple and cabbage slaw, winter squash. Students contributed favorite family casseroles, approximated with French market ingredients. I had rotisserie chickens delivered to the apartment on Garlic Street. It required a lot of planning, coordination, and energy to pull off “Franksgiving.” That fall, I gained a deep appreciation for the beautiful and large family meals my grandmothers, mother, and aunts have hosted over the years.