Vive la France

 

Bastille Day

Yesterday we celebrated July 14, French Independence Day.  Bill and I descended the village steps to theMonument  des Morts decorated with French tricolor flags. The monument honors those who died for France in  World War I, the Algerian War, and World War II. The mayor chose to read a text depicting the bravery of a local World War II resistant and the fatal shooting of a 16 year old during the same time.  We all solemnly bowed our heads.  After the dedication of flowers to the site of the monument, the local band played several marching tunes including the French National Anthem, La Marseillaise. If you ever really listen to the lyrics of the song, you may be surprised to find them shockingly violent.

 After the ceremony we marched back up to the Mayor's Office, where we were offered an aperitif. Bill helped finish my white wine. Day drinking does not agree with me, but I did partake of one of the regional specialties, prunes. French prunes, succulent and  moist, melt in the mouth and could be mistaken for candy, though over consumption of these scrumptious treasures would not be recommended.  We returned home for lunch. In the evening we made our way to the square where we danced to an unusual combination of Italian, Klezmer, and Latin music.  Flashy fireworks greeted us as we climbed up the hill, and so ended our day of honoring France's Independence. 

I would  now like to honor the French quality of life especially in our village of Monflanquin. Despite the fact that the French love to complain about their politicians, high supermarket prices, job shortages, and the like,  we expats who reside here part of the year know how lucky we are.  Today, I went to the municipal swimming pool. For 3 euros I could swim all day except during lunch.  It is a lovely salt water pool so my skin and swim wear do not wreak chlorine as they do at home. It took about 10 minutes to drive to the pool. On the way back, I decided to stop at the bank to pick up my new credit card. Still half wet from swimming and wearing a see-through cover up, I felt totally comfortable entering the bank and talking to the receptionist. Nobody batted an eyelid at my less than bank-like costume. Business done, I returned back home for lunch. Everything we need is in the village. We could not be more fortunate. I hope the French who live here appreciate that as well.  Vive la France!