Chicago French Bastille Day Festival

Experts say that the best way to learn a new language is complete cultural immersion. I can attest that this is the truth. The night before going to the Bastille Day Festival in Oz Park, I was watching the movie The Science of Sleep and learned the word «merde.» Scientists say seeing an example of a word after you hear it is what makes it stick in the brain and be learned. «Merde» is still stuck in my head because that’s what this festival was.
Alright, maybe «shit» is too strong a word. «Ill-​concieved» is probably a better choice. Except the problem is, I don’t know how to say that in French.
The festival, buried in Oz Park, consisted of a small stage on a hill and some booths. Sure this sounds like any other festival, but at most other festivals, the booths wouldn’t mostly be for language schools. The festival, sadly, missed a golden opportunity to hype up the culture. There was a booth selling flags and such on the way out and I hadn’t even gotten an interest in the pretty well-​known country of France enough to care (or buy anything).
Where was the food? One crêpe stand? Where were the photos of historic and scenic places? Where were French artisans? Where was a mime? Alright it was actually sort of fine the mime was missing (they’re kind of creepy anyhow).
About the only saving grace about the festival was its ticketing system. Admission was completely free. But if you donated $ 5 for admission, you got raffle tickets. $ 10 for admission (and what a sickening rip-​off that would have been), you got more. I think all festivals might learn from this, much in the way the United States learned a lot from the French back in the day.
In short, I walked in with a free 7-​Eleven slurpee for ⁷⁄₁₁. It was only 7.11 ounces but even this fact was far less disappointing than the festival I was drinking it at (I barely had time to finish it, the fest was so small). And, sadly, it was probably just as authentic to the country. I wonder how you say slurpee in French.

Let me preface my review by stating that I have nothing against the French.
1:30 Arrive at Oz Park and wonder if I was mistaken and the fest was somewhere else due to the lack of tables, tents and signage.
1:32 Decide to do a quick walk-​through of the park just to be sure and stumble upon the «fest.»
1:34 Enter the «fest» and peruse the booths.
1:38 Leave the fest disappointed, but glad that admission was free and I had other plans for the rest of the evening.
Calling this a fest is a very generous statement; the «fest» was not even a block long! The whole event consisted of a handful of tents, one food vendor and a stage for entertainment. Most of the tents were language schools/​camps, banks, car dealers, cycling, or Olympics-​related.
The sole food vendor served crepes and of course had a line. I love crepes, but what about some variety? Baguettes, croissants, pastries, cheeses or french fries? Just kidding on that last one.
Bottom line: There are tons of street and neighborhood fests in Chicago. If you missed this one don’t feel bad, you didn’t miss anything and you can catch the crêpe stand at most farmer’s markets anyway.