10/25/2005

Heading into town on Rue Paul Lacombe

Looking up Paul Lacombe to our house which is at the top of the hill on the right

On Rue Trivalle, walking back from La Cité

Sunday, October 23, 2005 (updated 11/15/2005)

Meeting the Neighbors…

Over the last weeks we have managed to meet (albeit on a cursory basis) several of our neighbors here on Paul Lacombe. At the fete d'Occitan, we stopped at a table selling “free trade” (rather than Occitan) products to buy some politically correct coffee and chocolate, and discovered that the couple who were working the table are neighbors of ours on Paul Lacombe – in fact, directly “en face” or across the street. They recognized us (although we had never seen them) – but then they have a large windowed sun room that faces our house, and have evidently noticed our comings and goings with some interest. I pointed to Dave’s hat, and they laughed and said, “Oui, le bonnet!” (I suppose that, and other things, make Dave somewhat recognizable!).

The Renault "Scènic" parked across the street.

We also park our car(!) – yes, we have bought a car! – right in front of their house, but they said it was OK, and we are careful not to block their gate. They seemed like quite nice people, and said that they were pleased to meet us, and wasn’t it nice to meet this way, at the fête, etc. Later that day, we met another neighbor, two or three houses down, who was walking his dog. Because there was obviously a lot of work being done on the house, and then we suddenly appeared, there is a fair amount of interest in just whom we might be. Now we have met the neighbors to the left, right, across, and down the street. We, of course, in our American way, immediately offer our first names (“Je m’appelle David” being DRF’s fall back line anyway), and although friendly, les voisins francais don’t offer their names back unless specially asked – and then it is Madame et Monsieur….. I sometimes introduce myself as Madame Fertig (keeping separate names after marriage is not done much in France) to simplify things; although then they think we are German, which isn’t always the best…

Mme Grau's House from our front steps (rainy day). Can you see the stone lizard on the wall by the round window?

The neighbors have been very assiduous about notifying us if we have happened to leave a light on somewhere (very unfrench, to waste electricity!). That is how we met Guy and Renne on one side, and Madame Grau on the other. Madame Grau has lived in her big house next to ours with a large rose garden behind a quite high wall since 1964. My guess is that she is in her mid-80’s, and she appears to live alone. I would like to invite her to tea or coffee, but I don’t quite know the protocol. She looked a little doubtful when I mentioned this, but then again she just might not have understood my french (although she told me that I had a very "jolie" accent, much better than a Catalan accent; but I thought that she just might be trying to say in a nice way that she didn't have a clue what I was saying. For my part, I wasn't sure where Catalan (spoken here along with Occitan) came into it).

Looking towards our neighborhood from the foot of La Cité.