Politics

Mayoral Elections

Our local elections are now done and dusted and I have at last found out exactly how they work (and at least one version of how proportional representation works).

On the first round of voting a week ago, The list with which I had been asked to help came first with 38% of the vote, the others having around 30%, 20% and 8%. Horse trading between the 2^nd and 3^rd didn't work so the bottom two lists dropped out. That left the first two in a head-to-head for the second round of voting. I didn't realise there was any right/left wing aspect to the lists but Le Monde in its national coverage had the first list classified as left-wing, the second and third as right-wing and the third as unknown or independent. So it looked as though the overall apparently majority right-wing vote might swing the head-to-head in favour of the second list. In fact, the opposite happened and the first list got in with 60% of the vote. So it would appear that most voters were not voting along political lines but were voting for individuals on the lists irrespective of their supposed political allegiance.

This is how it works after that. Since the first list has to have a majority on the new council, it automatically gets 8 of the 15 new councillors. Then since it got 60% of the vote, it also gets 60% of the remaining seven seats. Since 60% doesn't go exactly into 7 and since fractions of councillors aren't allowed (one is left to wonder, if fractions were allowed, if the head would be included in any parts selected – maybe just the spleen) the first list gets 4 more seats on the council and the remainder go to the runner-up. So that is the composition of our new council.

Press headlines were made by the success of the extreme right-wing National Front over the nation as a whole. The NF claimed that their success proved they were not simply recipients of a protest vote but were being accepted as a mainstream political party. I couldn't agree with that analysis. Extremist parties will pick up majority votes in areas where there is a great deal of social unrest in minor elections, even sometimes in major elections. However, it was obvious that parties politically opposed had combined in several cases to keep out NF candidates. This is sure to happen again in major elections and perhaps to an even greater extent. In populous areas, voting was clearly political, in less populous areas much less so. This would seem natural and, indeed, perhaps as it should be.

Who's responsible?

I recently bought a rose bush to go in my back garden and noticed that there was a sign on the packaging warning that the bush was not to be eaten. Now I can honestly say that I've never seen a rose bush on a menu anywhere (and I've been in some 60 countries throughout the world) so I presume that the vast majority of people must already know that rose bushes are not to be eaten. However, I suppose that ever since some woman successfully prosecuted MacDonalds because, when she tipped a cup of their coffee over herself, it burned her, there must be some people who don't know that hot liquid can burn. So I suppose the notice on my rose bush packaging is justified. Should anyone eat a rose bush and get a thorn stuck in their throat, they won't be able to sue the supplier; they were warned.

It's A Funny Old World

It's Funny.............

It's funny how things turn out sometimes. My small and surreptitious efforts at growing flowering plants across the road from my kitchen were, I thought, never going to amount to a great deal. Despite my fond hope that a new mayor, if it was the one who might be persuaded he owed me something, would let me turn the parking space into a flower bed was really just that: a fond hope. Unbeknown to me, neighbours Jean-Pierre and Monique and some others who had gathered at their house one evening, were discussing my gradual extension of the flowers there and hit upon an idea.

There is a bench further along the road, placed so that promenaders can sit and take in the view across the river. What if they moved that to the space in front of my house? There wouldn't be any room to park a car then and I would be free to carry on planting. So that is what they propose to do. Then I shall plant some lavender and focus more on scent; with no need of any mayoral edict; the neighbours have done it for me.

More On Elections

I played boules this afternoon with Daniel, Marie and Mana. Mana took me to task as to why I hadn't attended any of the other open meetings with mayoral election candidates. I explained that one meeting clashed with an evening when I had invited Jo and Steve to eat and the other clashed with an important foot ball match I wanted to watch. Mana wasn't impressed with my second excuse and I had to explain my priorities. I told my children when they were young that, as far as I was concerned, they could choose their politics and, if they wanted a religion, choose that too. But I wasn't having any Arsenal supporters in my house. There was only one football team that could be supported and that was Chelsea. I felt, and still feel, that it is important to get priorities right on the really important things in life.

Anyway, as it turned out, Mana was greatly unimpressed by the meetings I missed. One was apparently very poorly attended and the candidates neglected to use the microphone so Mana couldn't hear what they had to say. For Very Important Elections, only in Mollans could this happen. At the other, the candidates had decided to offer no agenda but simply said “elect us and we will discuss it”. I didn't like to ask Mana whether she had tried to establish their position on the Ukraine crisis (or the national economy, immigration or unemployment) but presume she didn't even bother.

St Patrick's Day

I went down to the Bar du Pont this evening for the usual pizza but Roberto was also doing baby chickens, so I had one of those. Interestingly, in England we know these as the French word “poussins”, which the French don't appear to use. They call them “coquelets”. Anyway, it was St Patrick's day and so the bar owner, Patrique, was celebrating. The French celebrate not only their birthdays but also the saint's day of their first name. The assumption is that you are named after a saint and, Heaven knows, there are enough of those names to go round. However, I remember a job interview I was conducting while at ICL when I wanted to verify the candidates name. I just said something like “your Christian name is Norma and your surname is xxxxxx”. The young woman tersely responded: “it's not a Christian name”. OK, I should have said first name rather than Christian name, and I've no idea what all the Normas since creation could have been doing not to get at least one saint among them, but that defensive/aggressive response set the tone for the interview and, no, she didn't get the job. A simple, “yes it's Norma but it's not actually a Christian name” might have set a different tone.

Whatever. Patrique, a Mollanais from birth who has no Irish affiliations that I am ware of, duly celebrated by buying us all a verveine, a green liqueur. Good health to Patrique!

Election Meeting

Election Meeting

The list of village councillor candidates and proposed new mayor which I mentioned in my last posting had an open meeting this Sunday evening so I went along to hear what they had to say. I wasn't expecting much but the meeting did provide some interest and merriment.

The main thread of the presentation was that the candidates promised to be always available, to openly explain all decisions and listen to what villagers had to say. That much might be expected but it did at least show that some listening had been done. The current council clearly tried to say as little as possible about the recent change of community of communes until it was a fait accompli, a point that still rankles among many villagers.

In more detail, the presentation dealt with new school legislation which adds half a day to the school week, to be devoted to sport and cultural activities, but provides no budget for it. The candidates asserted that the cost would not be large and proposed that the village budget should absorb that, so that the activities would be free to the children. Another topic was the Haute Aire, the large patch of elevated waste ground on which we play boules in the centre of the village. It is admittedly a bit of an eyesore and the proposal was to redo it as a recreation square for the village, perhaps with flower beds, etc. As long as they leave enough space for boules that will be OK. It was also proposed to upgrade the water purification station. Mollans' water has always seemed OK to me but is officially classified as of only medium quality by WHO standards, probably because of potential contamination from agriculture. Anyway, I have spring water in the fountain just outside my house.

I thought questions might be interesting but was disappointed when the first two were about car parking and noise. A woman complained about cars being parked in front of her garage and another about car noise; I wondered where she could live because there is hardly any car noise even on the village by-pass. She should live in Reading. Then there was a question on the positioning of dustbins and a woman got up and, rather than simply ask a question, went forward to grab the microphone and address everybody. She said that of course the candidates were showing themselves in their best light now (I presumed everybody already knew that) but......and I couldn't catch her question. Anyway, she was immediately shouted down by the audience and retired to her seat in a huff. There was also a lady who said she would love to organise theatrical events and give acting classes but there was no theatre in the village. How many villages of 1000 inhabitants have theatres?

It was left to Mana, dear Mana, to save the day for me. She said: “The biggest problem in the village is unemployment; what are you going to about that?” The mayoral candidate, clearly a bit taken aback, said what he could; that the council, if elected, would look favourably on any enterprise that proposed to bring employment to the village; what else could he say? I was disappointed when Mana left it that. I fully expected her to follow up saying that the national economy was a mess and what was the village council going to do about that? And what was their position on immigration and what were they doing about the crisis in the Ukraine? Ah well, another time maybe.

Shellfish Etc

Shellfish Etc

Georges Corbo offered his shellfish lunch again today at the Bar du Pont and I duly went along with friend Steve (Jo, his wife, doesn't like shellfish). We ate outside in the sunshine on the terrace, the first time I have done so this year although there have been many days when I could have had lunch on my balcony.

Georges has just been elected president of the Amities Mollanaise, the village old peoples' club, so Steve said to him that, being a president, he had to have a mistress. I added that, going by Hollande, maybe one mistress wasn't enough and that he should have at least two. Unfortunately there were only a half-dozen of us taking the meal so it probably wasn't worth the trouble for Georges. I hope he'll try at least one more time.

Also there were friends Dominique and Chantal and we started discussing colloquial phrases and their origins. Steve noted that whilst, when it rains hard, the French say it is raining ropes (purely descriptive), in English we say it is raining cats and dogs. The origin of this, supposedly, is that in the days of thatched roofs cats and dogs would often climb into the thatch for warmth. When it rained, the thatch became slippery and the cats and dogs slid out of the thatch. I can't confirm the veracity of that at the moment.

Following on from that, Chantal volunteered an explanation of the expression “to fall pregnant”, which is the same in English and French. It has always puzzled me, since it suggests a random happening such as falling ill or falling in love, whilst in fact there is a very ready explanation for the condition resulting from a very specific act. Chantal said that it derived from frequent ignorance among young peasant girls who, barring miraculous conceptions (for which a few claims have been known), could not understand how they had become pregnant. Hence, for them, it was a random inexplicable event.

We also talked about changes in society, particularly family life and shop opening hours. Some three years ago I noted that the first supermarkets here had decided to open on Sunday and that therefore they would all have to; sure enough they have. That may seem relatively inconsequential but is an element in a huge social change over the past 50 years in both France and the UK. When I was young in England, Saturday was the day for recreation. On Sunday, everything was closed; no sports, no theatre or cinema. You were supposed to catch up on any jobs not done during the week or else massage your puritan guilt complex. I remember wondering why we couldn't have continental Sundays, where the rule seemed to be that as long as you went to church in the morning you could do what you liked during the rest of the day; all the entertainment facilities were on offer.

What seems to have happened is that work patterns have changed to the point where there are no set days for doing anything. If families are to live to a pattern, and I believe most do, then they have themselves to impose that pattern on their week, based probably around varied work schedules. No general patterns imposed from outside are any longer discernible, neither are there social pressures to do any set thing on any set day. I think that may be one reason why family life often suffers; there is no generally set time for it, such as evening meal times or Sundays, so it has to be consciously planned for and often gets forgotten.

Dominique and Chantal commented that the same changes were discernible in France. The situation in the large towns was very much as in England but the old patterns of life still persisted to an extent in rural France. There the sacred two hours for lunch was still widely observed, for instance, and retention of primary schools in even very small villages such as Mollans meant that children still came home for lunch. I like that and that is perhaps why, even 12 years into retirement, when I can do pretty much what I like when I like, I still feel I should be enjoying myself at weekends and not doing whatever jobs are awaiting attention. Old habits die hard.

Spring?

Spring

The spring like weather has continued. In my youth I remember that the first time a cuckoo was heard (supposedly a portent of summer) the hearer would write to The Times and The Times would publish the letter. People looked out for the letter and it became a kind of tradition. I don't know if they still do it. Anyway, I am announcing the first daffodil in bloom in the village, in one of my pots in front of the house. Somehow I don't think the local paper, La Tribune, will be interested; cuckoos and daffodils are strictly for the English, I suspect. Friends Steve and Jo have the first few primroses and a Japonica bush in bloom in their garden so the first signs of spring are definitely here. I've cleared the back garden of winter debris, manured all round and planted some more lilly bulbs, as they seem to do well and need no attention.

Rain has become less frequent although the water level is still high. The sediment usually thrown up by the rain has settled so the river is full of clear light blue/green water (the colour likely a result of light refraction through clay particles) and looks very attractive. I've only just realised that the muddy colour from sediment that rain usually causes is a factor only from Buis downstream. I was taken up to St Auban on Saturday and the river above Buis was clear. The river falls fairly steeply further up and is narrow and so runs fast until it reaches Buis, where it forms a wider bed and runs more slowly through to Mollans. So I suppose it is natural that sediment carried down will settle between Buis and here and then get stirred up by rain. It's taken me only seven years to work that out!

Elections

We have mayoral elections on the 23^rd of March as the current mayor is retiring. The electoral process is somewhat complicated. As Mollans now has over 1000 inhabitants, we voters vote for a list of potential councillors headed by a potential mayor. Each mayoral candidate has to create his/her own list of backers/potential councillors. Depending on the result (size of majority) there may then be a second round of voting and eventually a third round of voting for the final few individuals who make up the rump of the council.

Anyway, I received an email from friend Patrick, who is on what looks to me to be the strongest list, asking if I would help set up, fill in and maintain a blog for the list. I was somewhat surprised as a blog is essentially simple but, assuming they just wanted some reassurance, I agreed. That is why I went, with some members of the list, to St Auban. A “professional” there had been asked to set up the blog for them, I was told. The outfit in St Auban was indeed professional but in setting up and hosting websites, which was apparently what they were asking for. Given that none of the list members has any kind of IT background I was slightly alarmed at what they might be trying to do, especially given the very short time over which the website was likely to be used. However, it appears that they want only a very elementary site and to use it in a very elementary way, not too dissimilar to a blog; so they should be OK and I may not be needed at all. For anyone interested, the site is at www.mollans2014.fr

Living

Gardening

The recent spell of warm sunny weather has got me gardening for the first time this year. Roses front and back are all pruned, as are both the grape vines, and the clematis, which are already producing buds, have been cut down. I've also got rid of the winter weeds at the back and so am ready to put down the pelleted bird shit I use as a background fertiliser. I get it from the local agricultural cooperative because it is cheaper there than elsewhere but it comes in 40kg sacks, which I am not able to hump around. I therefore leave it in the boot of the car from where I take out bucketfuls (or should that be buckets full?) at a time as needed. The result is an agricultural aroma in my car that would certainly defeat any of the sir fresheners on sale. Ah well, I don't mind and anybody else just has to accept it.

While I was pottering out front my artist neighbour Florence came by with heavy-duty gloves and a saw in her hand. She was off to explore the river banks in search of tree roots. The river in spate pulls up the odd bush or small tree and Florence collects the roots, which she prunes or manipulates to form interesting shapes and she she then places them around her house and garden.

How We Lived

Friend Steve's sister, Marianne, emailed some derivations of colloquial sayings to him which he forwarded to me. It reminded me that I have a dictionary of slang and colloquialisms that I haven't looked at for a while. Anyway, here are a few historical ones that interested me.

The saying “piss poor” apparently derives from the practice of impoverished families all pissing in one pot which, when full, could be sold to the local tannery for tanning leather. Recycling before its time. Of course, if you were really poor you “didn't have a pot to piss in”.

The state of floors was another gauge of poverty. If you were “dirt poor” it was your house had only an earthen floor. Better-off families had stone or tiled floors which, incidentally, became slippery when wet, so straw (called thresh) was put down for a better grip. A plank would be placed at the door to stop the thresh getting out of the door when moved by walking, which gave us the word threshold.

Bread also was an indicator of status. The lowest got the burnt crust at the bottom of a loaf, the next in status got the middle and the toffs got the “upper crust”.

Finally, the family tin bath was filled just once with hot water for all the family to use. Men went first, then women, children and babies last of all. By this time the water would be quite murky and nothing that went below the surface (e.g. a baby) would be visible. Hence the stricture not to throw the baby out with the bath water.

I really must get down to reading my dictionary again.

Time And Tide

Moments In Time

Being a football fanatic, I tend to listen to post-match interviews and have become fixated on the use of the word “moment” by foreign players and coaches. Teams are said to be in a good or bad moment and the same is often said of periods during a match. If a player says he is in a good moment, what he means is that he is in form at the time. If a team is said to be in a bad moment, what it means is that the team has been off form for some time. I have the awful premonition that this use of the word moment going to become standard English if the practice is not stopped; and “moment” is in no way the appropriate word in these cases.

So how does it come about? I think it is because the word “time” is used for all manner of aspects of time in English but not in other languages (e.g. French and Spanish). The obvious translation of time into French is “temps” but can be correctly translated as such only very infrequently; the word more often takes it's other meaning, weather. If you are in time for a meeting you are “à l'heure”; if this is a good time to do something it is a “bon moment” (Aha!); and if you are having a good time then time doesn't figure at all; “vous vous amusez bien”.

So it's easy to see why foreigners struggling with their English speak in this way but will someone please stop it. There is no time like the present and stopping this misuse will not be a moment too soon.

The Weather

I make no excuses for returning to the topic of the weather; after all, it is in the news almost everywhere. Whether (sic) it is a consequence of climate change or just an arbitrary blip I have no idea and really don't care much. Here we have so far had a winter that has been milder but much wetter than usual. It has been what is known here as English weather and so of course yours truly is getting the blame for it. The Ouveze as it runs by my house is at the moment channel-wide, fast flowing and turbulent. If it rises another couple of feet, which wouldn't take much more rain, it will spread out over the wider river bed which is 3-4 times the width of the channel. It did that for a few hours two weeks ago. There's no immediate danger to anyone but I have never before seen it this high for such an extended period. The potential danger here is not a consequence of saturated land but rock. Rock is a bit difficult to saturate but sheds water quite as easily as saturated land.

Maintenance of the river course is not brilliant but probably adequate for all likely eventualities. The same clearly cannot be said of what is happening in England. I caught Clark, the UK government minister, saying on TV's Question Time that you cannot be fully prepared for events that happen once in a hundred years and screamed at the TV when nobody challenged him. Of course what he said is strictly true but flooding on the Somerset plain is not a once in a 100 years event; it happens regularly, just not as severely as now. If ever there was a warning that has to be it but nobody chose to take notice. It always annoys me, perhaps to an unreasonable extent, when a panel of people supposed to challenge one another pass up an easy chance.

Another problem for England, rather than France, seems to be maintenance of infrastructure more generally. There is an inherent conflict between it and democracy. Infrastructure can usually be ignored for 15-20 years without anyone noticing and governments' focus is on much shorter time-frames, basically on the length of their remit to rule. In any five-year term, there will always be many items far more pressing (and potentially vote-catching) than maintenance of infrastructure. Nevertheless, maintained it must be and for some reason I don't fully understand France seems to do better at this than England. A contributing factor, I am sure, is the greater devolution of budget in France. If areas at risk of flooding have a budget to fix the problem they will fix it.

Scottish Nationalism

This is another problem grabbing the headlines in the UK. People I know with their ear to the ground in Scotland reckon that the referendum will reject separation from the UK. Old enmities may die hard but shifts in population are probably what will decide this issue. I think the Scottish Nationalists have missed a trick. They should have demanded a referendum in the rest of the UK as to whether it wanted the Scots; then they might have got the result they want.