Penis Mom vs Handless Girl : Sexism Wins

It did take a while didn't it ? One post a year...sorry about that. Let's just say that due to my inability to become the first instant-millionaire-apprentice builder-writer of my generation, I got back onto the media saddle and hooked up with the newspaper where I first started working 15 years ago. It means commuting to Bordeaux everyday, but the job is good, and it brings a salary. It's more difficult for my better-half who pretty much has to do everything by herself. Also we went on holls to Northern Spain and visited our friends in the US , and that was great. As for our village, what has happened in the last 12 months ? ...well...not much..but some.There is a wind of activity spinning in our little corner of Dordogne. New comers have arrived, people express new ideas for entertainment, I acted as the Bingo host in  a very DULL, unfunny, loooooong rendition of calling numbers out loud to a crowd of blood-thirsty locals (this people do not clap but moan when someone wins - I kid you not). And there is the Medieval Festival.

Ah, my Lords (and Ladies), what a feast it will be ! A whole day of celebrations in the next door village. All the school-mums have been enlisted to saw costumes (the woman who started it all unanimously decided by herself that SHE would be Alienor, and nobody else) , draw banners and paint backgrounds tapestries to decorate the village. Everything has to look medieval, old at least, for the crowds will be walking the streets on the week-end of ...February 11th. Oh yes! F'in February !
Nothing like an outdoor festival when temperatures are likely to cuddle up together at the very bottom of the thermometer.
But do not be alarmed, little boys will stay warm, as they will be running around, playing medieval games (the-burning-of-the-gipsy? throw-the-cat-in-the-well, scavenge-for-roots-in-the-forest-if-you-want-to-eat?).
-Little boys ? Only ? What about little girls ? Aren't they allowed to play too?  inquired my wife.
-In the Middle Ages, they weren't worth anything replied the Self-Appointed-Queen. So I don't believe it's appropriate to have special games for them.
-Therefore, replied my wife, should we write down, there and now,  that we will actually cut the hand of any person who would steal a piece of bread, in the name of historical accuracy?

From my years studying law and mostly from watching Monthy Python's Holy Grail, I can think of another 5 or 6 spectacular, yet medieval ways, to bring justice to our little community. Just the basics you know : Throwing someone in the pond, with or without a stone around their neck, in the middle of winter should drastically limit the risk of a second offense...
So, misogyny still runs deep in our countryside. but now, we know where it's rooted, back in the evil ways of the Dark Ages... Or is it ? According to that successful blog entry : the Penis Mom (read it!) brought to my attention by Sweedish Ana and Rolling Karen from Tarrytown, discrimination based on gender is also deeply stuck in the collective mind in the Land of the Free.
There you have it, another bridge has been built over cultural differences, a lovely bridge made of the finest subconsciously backward assumption that male>female. Yes! We're all the same in the end. So come over and rejoice my friend, on Feb 11Th, for there will be costumes and games, food and beverages, and a bridge to cross. But make sure you pay the toll when you cross the bridge or we throw you in the river, with a cat, a stone and a burning gipsy tied around your neck.

(PS : As for the principle of organizing a festival in the village, I think it's brilliant and commendable, I was just pointing out the courage of my wife to challenge the sociological subtext and my apprehension at walking down the street dressed like a jester with tight silky long legs in the middle of winter.)

Monsieur the customer

Happy new year everybody! May it bring you a lot of French-things...including something that has kept the reputation of my country so high, from man and woman-folk alike all around the world : lingerie.

It's classy, kinky, subtle and naughty, and one buys it in special shops, where the tone is usually rather reserved and where men blush or mumble easily. It is also available in clothing stores where one has to wait for the giggling teenagers to depart to buy something for his wife.
But in Dordogne, lingerie is also to be found between a pack of 12 vanilla flavoured yoghurts and discounted tins of tuna; that is if one decides to buy a new attire from Carrefour.
And it's not just any attire, look at the label: it's the Escort Girl line :
Ok, it's naughty, but forget about the subtle and classy!
 Obviously someone in Carrefour's marketing department needs to work on their English before launching a new line.  I can't wait for the Hooker collection  and the new Tranny swimsuits!
What's surprising though is that, the French department stores have adapted extremely well to the increasing number of english-speaking customers. In Bergerac, Carrefour dubs their promotional adverts over the loudspeakers in English. Who'd blame them, many overseas citizen do not seem very inclined to learn how to describe this lovely outfit in local lingua ('Un bustier de prostituée' would be rather accurate).

Furthermore, there are English product sections in all the big supermarkets. And they are priced accordingly, on the premise that foreigners are wealthier.
For instance some porridge-oats are 2 euros more expensive on the English-section shelf than the regular cereal one, I m' told. Whoever pays the full price is an idiot.
As for imported products, they get a nice bump on the price-tag; like this box of Tetley tea bags, here on the left. The 99p price has been covered by an English flag sticker  so that the customers wouldn't realize that the 2.80 euros they're charged are extortionate.
But what do you expect? France loves its supermarkets, 11 000 of them in the country, including the world's 2nd largest, Carrefour. I know it's sad, but thankfully they have the Escort Girl lingerie to make us laugh.

New Chapter

TEACHINGS
After a month as the highest educated and least competent builder in France, I have learned a few lessons:
1. repetitive physical work is hard but rewarding
2. there are A LOT of tools out there I had never heard about before
3. I am so clumsy that I am convinced my right hand is actually another left hand with a superiority complex
4. don't hold a nail gun the wrong way around. Next time, it may not have a safety latch and I may shoot myself in the forehead. (the look of profound compassion on the carpenter's face when he saw me do that!)
5. my life as a builder is not over yet.

SILENCE
Postings have been scarce, to say the least. First because the last days on the building sites were stressful and the lunches boozy. In order to finish on time Ernesto hired another builder, Johan a 30 year old lad, whose gipsy mum gave him a sense of pride that seemed to have translated very well in picking up fights in night clubs. The tales of head-butting and knocking-out random strangers filled the last afternoons in a mix of French and Gipsy slang that lead me to utter boredom.  I therefore proceeded to listen to FM news radio while mixing white and yellow sand with white-wash to create a cream-colored mortar for stone walls. Then it was all over. Building finished. Hooray,I finally had time to write.
But first we went swimming on the sunday, and on the way back were invited for  a spot of lunch at our friends who run a restaurant in the next door village. We drank and ate, and I dragged my pal Nicolas in my field to help me out with clearing off a path for the kids at the bottom of the hill.
We did that for 5 minutes. Then he broke his leg, just like that. He slid and that was it.
Because they're barely holding it together financially, Nicolas and his wife haven't subscribed any special insurance. Thus, he couldn't hire anybody to replace him in the restaurant. So his wife Carole has been doing the cooking and Sue and I have been waiting tables since. This has kept us busy for 10 days and we gained another insight in French rural life, which will be detailed here soon (tbc).