Today I have seen the dichotomy of village life.
Last week an elderly gentleman, who had lived in Reminiac all his life, died.
Today was his funeral. Cars lined the roads leading to the church and there weren’t enough pews to seat everyone. EVERYBODY in Reminiac who could attend, went to the funeral.
As I waited to pick Joe up from school at lunchtime I watched everyone walk slowly from the church to the graveyard.
I turned to the dinner lady, as we watched in silence, “Was he popular?’
She gave a gallic shrug, ‘No really, but when someone dies everyone attends the funeral. It is respect.’
Not three hours later, I hear that a woman in the village has lost her job through no fault of her own.
Someone else’s good deed on her behalf has backfired in a terrible terrible way which has left her ousted and she will inevitably loose her job. So cruel. I hardly know her, she is a quiet woman who keeps herself to herself and never participates in the village gossip.
I can only stand on the outside and watch the hard rules of this close knitted rural French community.
The compassion the village showed towards the dead mans’ family was immense and truly heartwarming. Yet the persecution that the poor young women is suffering by the same people defies belief.
Village life is so rich, so complex but you have to play by their hard rules.
Last week an elderly gentleman, who had lived in Reminiac all his life, died.
Today was his funeral. Cars lined the roads leading to the church and there weren’t enough pews to seat everyone. EVERYBODY in Reminiac who could attend, went to the funeral.
As I waited to pick Joe up from school at lunchtime I watched everyone walk slowly from the church to the graveyard.
I turned to the dinner lady, as we watched in silence, “Was he popular?’
She gave a gallic shrug, ‘No really, but when someone dies everyone attends the funeral. It is respect.’
Not three hours later, I hear that a woman in the village has lost her job through no fault of her own.
Someone else’s good deed on her behalf has backfired in a terrible terrible way which has left her ousted and she will inevitably loose her job. So cruel. I hardly know her, she is a quiet woman who keeps herself to herself and never participates in the village gossip.
I can only stand on the outside and watch the hard rules of this close knitted rural French community.
The compassion the village showed towards the dead mans’ family was immense and truly heartwarming. Yet the persecution that the poor young women is suffering by the same people defies belief.
Village life is so rich, so complex but you have to play by their hard rules.
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