La Vie Française, no 1

We thought that you might be interested in what happens here aside from all the building work that we’ve been undertaking. So this is the first in an occasional series of posts which will cover elements of what we do outside of improving our living conditions.

For the past six months Joanne has been assisting twice a week, on a voluntary basis, at a local refuge for stray and unwanted dogs. Apart from the enjoyment of working with the animals it also helps her to improve her French as the other volunteers are locals and speak very little, if any, English.

To help raise funds for the organisation, events are held drawing in the public. For example, about three months ago a ‘cowboy evening’ was organised and we were persuaded to attend. Apparently, I discovered after the event, cowboys, country music and the like are very popular in the area. Large numbers of people turned up in full cowboy regalia and much enjoyment was had by them doing line-dancing and American country/barn dancing – bizarre in deepest France.

Recently we were invited to what we thought in advance was to be a social ‘tea party’; an afternoon gathering of the volunteers with some refreshments. Wrong! It was, I judge, a committee meeting of those most involved with the work at the refuge. But it was like no other meeting of this type that I have ever been to. Yes, there were refreshments – plenty of cakes of one sort or another (we have learned that in this area sweet food is preferred on these types of occasion to savouries) and an endless supply of champagne. All to the good so far in terms of what we had expected. But there didn’t appear to be any formal ‘rules’ to the meeting – no obvious chairperson, no agenda, no secretary, no minutes. As a result anarchy seemed to be the order of the day. The lady who is the central figure in the organisation, we have no idea if she has a formal position or title, was unbelievably aggressive. As other volunteers tried to raise points she interrupted and would not allow them to make any points. When she felt in any way criticised she shouted people down. At one point it seemed to me that there might be a walk-out by a husband and wife pair because the wife was shouted at, the husband made serious threatening noises about what he might do. The accounts that were presented were so incomplete as to be little more than a joke and no one raised any questions about them. And of course the meeting was conducted in very rapid, heated French which got worse as copious amounts of champagne was consumed. Shouting, champagne and cake proved a lethal combination as the cake got sprayed around from various mouths in the heat of the moment leading me into avoiding action! And it all tested our comprehension to the limits and beyond.

Eventually we managed to find a gap in the arguments and shouting to make our excuses and leave, somewhat shell-shocked by what we had witnessed. And we did wonder whether the people who had been on the receiving end of the aggression might cease to give of their time and efforts as a result. Joanne has asked the person with whom she goes to the refuge whether the meetings were usually conducted in the manner which we had observed and apparently it was not an unusual occurrence.

So, our first experience of how the French can conduct the business of a voluntary organisation was something of an eye-opener. Not at all what I had expected in a country where every voluntary organisation has to register with the state and have a proper set of rules by which it is supposed to be run.