Slowly things are evolving. Gradually things are changing. I've started meeting people. Little French village is turning out to be a social goldmine. Who knew. I met four people last week alone. It is the charm of living in a little village that everyone wants to band together and affirm that "yes this is why we live here and not in the city." And it works. People smile and say "bonjour" and come up and just start talking.
I have been hanging out with Myla often and she tags along with me to brocantes and really scrappy thrift stores when she has time. She's starting her own business so she isn't around much. She introduced me to Etienne who lives up the street from me, a really nice mom of three who works from home. She's the one with the Dutch husband. They're a really sweet couple and Seb even got chatting to dutch husband one morning without knowing I knew him. Then out of nowhere the English mom I've met once or twice started telling me "we have to get together" which surprised me because I had written her off as not interested after chatting with her three times and not getting invited (for an American three times --that's a definite snub!). But I know sometimes it takes some (English *cough*) people more time so I've invited her over for coffee right away. I hope I'm not being too forward.
And then just yesterday a woman came up and tapped me on the shoulder. She lives right around the corner from me walking distance. She seemed really nice and I think I'll probably end up inviting her over at some point too once we get past the French obligatory three week wait period.
It seems there's a particular bond between the people who live in my little sector of the village and they even have a different name for this section of the community. It's an older part of the main village. It's like there are two distinct social circles.
What's funny is that everyone already knows our house. Many people even toured it when it was up for sale. They know when we bought it, what trees we've recently cut, when we open the shutters, they saw the moving truck, they saw that we took the ivy off the house, EVERYTHING. I don't even have to tell people where we live. They already know! Such is small French village life.
Thankfully it isn't like Chocolat (or at least not yet).
5 comments:
Ah! That sounds like where I used to live. It was a little weird at first but I grew to love it. It was so nice going out to buy bread and running into people to chat with. I loved it so much and still miss it terribly. I am so happy that you are meeting people and finding a nice little community there.
The next step is getting everyone's name straight. I am happy to hear that things seem to be falling into place for you.
I know what you mean too, we live in a town that has 20 000 in habitants, but we are in the “Vieux Village” and the Ville Nouvelle is like going to another planet. We call the new town ‘Desperate House Wives Ville” because everything is perfect and all the houses are the same. We prefer the village part with its little quaint houses, odd shape streets, gas in bottles and tiny streets and nosey old neighbours.
I’ll ignore your comment about the Brits though (cough - being one myself)but it’s true I would think it was REALLY weird if you invited me round after only speaking to you a few times. Don’t take it as a snub, we Brits just need more time to warm up but when you get us going there is no stopping us . . .espeacially if Gin is on offer.
That is really great! I'm glad you're making some nice friends
:)
lol Lucy. I'm okay with parent's names but not the kids.
Pauline --I will consider bribing her with my gin stash ;) Actually the truth is the first time I met her I asked her if we were the only ones in the village and she said "oh no!" they have this Friday mom's group of English speakers that she goes to. I'm being pushy because I'd like to be invited!! She hasn't said anything about it since. We shall see!
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