In Central Europe, the Devil, an Angel and Mikulaš, or St. Nicholas to us, come a-knocking on the night of December 6th. Children must sing a song to the trio, while the Devil watches, slinging a chain around menacingly. The angel hovers, and I guess is supposed to be reassuring. My father, who spent one year of his childhood in Austria, tells a story of being left in the car with his brothers on this night. The devil came by and howled at them, trying to open the car doors. All three characters started rocking the car back and forth. Luckily the doors were locked. Terrifying. Really.
In English lesson and or hour of pantomime and minorly English games, we make masks. "Sarah is scissors?" Adela asks. She doesn't seem to know any other verb in English besides the third person form of To Be. "Sarah, Nicole is scissors!" (Frown). Nicole meanwhile is pasting a child's foot into the sack that her Devil is carrying. "In his sack, small childrens," she cackles (Big smile). Let's just say Disney hasn't gotten a hold of the story of Mikulaš yet.
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