La Rentrée - Part 3

Today was an incredible day; incroyable! It’s Saturday and we’re off to our local market, Marché Maubert, just a couple of blocks from our apartment. The market is here 3 days a week (Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday) but Saturday is the “big one”….at least for our little neighborhood. Our merchants come from as far away as Normandy to sell their wares. These are the merchants who have given me advice on how to cook the meat I was buying, what wine I should serve, to the cheese that should follow, and the dessert. A different merchant for each course. I have to tell each one what the meal is, based on the input from the previous merchant. It’s hard for me because it’s all in French but it’s the raison I am living in Paris.

Today was the first time since I left Paris in December that I was in the market again. Would they know me? Would they remember me? Would they still be in business?...Talk to me?...Give me advice? La crise économique has been difficult. As we walked along Blvd St. Germain yesterday, we noticed that Duriez, one of our favorite stationery stores in Paris, was closed forever.



But today was beautiful. Unusually warm for avril and dry. Blue skies, light breeze, and very few tourists. The marché was busy with locals and a few tourists (that’s not us, we’re locals!). Even last December we had more tourists but the nuage de cendres from the volcano was still wreaking havoc although it doesn’t seem to be making the news anymore [at least here in Paris]. And all the merchants were busy. There seemed to be an abundance of fruit and veg folks. But I was determined to start my purchases at my favorite boucherie.

And there was Stella. Busy with a line of locals buying their weekend meats. I snuck in at the end, determined to be incognito until it was my turn. It worked. She didn’t see me or Katherine until we said “Ça va”? And then 3 months of missing us, came out in one sentence, maybe two. I’m not sure, my French is getting better but not when the French talk at lightning speed. But Katherine got it all. And apparently, our Stella missed us. She thought we were coming back at the beginning of April…probably because it was me who was telling her when we would be returning. So there it was; somebody remembered us.



And as I paid for our meat and turned to leave, there was Katherine chatting away (en français, naturellement) to her jewelry vendor. I didn’t know Katherine had a jewelry vendor but apparently she does. And apparently the vendor remembered her since they were deep in conversation ….but I am not sure I am happy about this merchant knowing us [or Katherine]….



The line in front of our fruit and veg man (fermier artisanale) was short; at least for him; only 3 or 4 people. But as we approached and got on line, he stopped, came over to shake our hands, and asked us how the winter was in the States and welcomed us back to Paris….he remembered us! We loaded up on veggies and started to make our way over to our wine shop.

We never made it. Before we got there, our local vintner was walking across the market. He stopped us in our tracks and asked us how we were doing. I don’t think this is because we buy a lot of wine. I think it’s because I fracture French so badly when I discuss wine with him that I am unforgettable as opposed to memorable.

So we trundle back to our flat, laden down with fruit, veg, meat, bread, wine (but no jewelry). Just as we are entering our building, our local creperie guy comes up to us with a big smile and says bienvenue à Paris! We chatted for a few minutes about le commerce and the cold, long winter they’ve had in Paris. This is like your local BurgerKing guy saying “hey, I haven’t seen you in a while; welcome back”. We’re so glad he remembered us and so glad we’ve come back to the same apartment – it’s like coming home. After unloading all of our market goods, Katherine is dying to walk up to the Jardin du Luxembourg – it’s a beautiful afternoon and spring has definitely sprung in Paris.

And it looks great. All the flowers are in bloom. It’s probably the first really warm day and weekend day since last autumn. Winter was hard in Paris this year. Not much snow but very cold. I think every Parisian was here in the gardens. The trees that had been stored for the winter in L’Orangerie were already out basking in the sun. New beds planted and in bloom. And every seat, bench, and more, occupied…especially in the chess and bridge area. So we walked over there and got a few nods, winks, and Ça va’s? from the regulars that I played with last year.

And then there were the “regulars” who play boules. No we don’t play boules or pétanque but we remember the ones who do. We love watching them play. Teams of men, women, and young lads….they all play and they all play together. Some of the young lads and women are better than the men. It’s quite a melting pot and a pleasant way to pass a Saturday afternoon.

But in the end, whether we were remembered or not, it’s April in Paris and it’s merveilleux.