"En avril ne te découvre pas d'un fil." Berbers in the neighborhood

It's mid-April now, and everyone is quoting the famous dicton, "En avril ne te découvre pas d'un fil" [In April, don't wear even a thread less].*  It was beautiful over the weekend, but cold. I went to the dry cleaners to pick up my winter coats, and instead of storing them away, had to put one on immediately.

The old man and woman who own the dry cleaning shop were not there last time, nor this time either. In fact, when I thought about it, I hadn't seen them since January, before I started traveling so much. They were a friendly, very un-Parisian couple who decorated their shop with seasonal window displays-- Easter eggs, Christmas lights, Halloween masks-- and with photos of Johnny Hallyday and with porcelain dolls in bustles . Their door was always open because of the heat from the laundry in the back, where the old man stood ironing all day. They had a handwritten notice on their cash register that said, "It doesn't cost anything to smile!"

"Are the owners on holiday?" I asked.

"No, they have retired," said the handsome young French-Maghrebin. "To Chartres. On a repris l'entreprise." We have bought the place.

I was sad. I hadn't had a chance to say goodbye to the old people. I stood silent a minute. The young man looked nervous. Would I stay a customer? He seemed so eager to please, and his partner, hard at work in the back, looked up at me.

"Donc vous êtes du coin?" You are from this neighborhood?

Of course anyone I don't know assumes I am a recent arrival; it's one reason I like to go to people I know. "Yes, I've lived here a long time," I said.  "Bienvenue!"

They both beamed. "Merci beaucoup!"

Then I went to the greengrocers. Also run by Maghrebins (North Africans). Until recently a lot of French people referred to the little grocery stores on every corner as "l'arabe," as in "Go down to the Arab and buy some sugar."

It's a misnomer, because in my experience more of the Maghrebins here are Berber than Arab. They are a handsome people and very proud.

Here I asked for some scallions, des oignons verts, but all they had was a droopy, withered-looking bunch. The kind of thing that used to puzzle me. How on earth did they think they were going to sell that? Now I merely said, "Hm. C'est tout ce que vous avez?"

"Attendez." The man disappeared and returned with a handful of gorgeous young scallions, which he stuffed into my bag. He dismissively at the withered scallions. "I know you, naturally I give you good ones. I will sell that to some inconnu."

*The dicton finishes, "Mais en mai, fait ce qu'il te plaît." [But in May, do what you like.]

Comments

[Michelle Horgan]

I'm enjoying learning idiomatic sayings in French. One of my wishes is to live in France at some point in my life but it seems that to do so takes being independently wealthy since it would be nearly impossible to find a job.

Thanks for the blog.