Apparently there was an official opening last week with ceremonial cutting of ribbons and, no doubt, copious servings of champagne, but I didn’t go because I didn’t know in advance.
When I turned up to help last Friday, Isabelle said,
“I didn’t see you at the opening. Couldn’t you come?”
It seems she had announced it when I wasn’t there.
Never mind, the all important opening to the public was today and Bear and I decided to pop in after the hairdresser had been to perform a long overdue haircut on the pair of us.
So we arrived just after three and found Isabelle in lone estate, working at her desk.
“Oh, I expected to see some customers”.
“People are probably working” she smiled.
“How many customers have you had so far then?”
“Just one – and now you two.” she replied.
She decided that she didn’t need to see any proof of identity and we perused the shelves, which are now just about full, and chose the books we wanted to borrow.
The library looks bright and inviting and the children’s corner is equipped for ‘Storytime’ every Wednesday afternoon. There’s a strong possibility I may be able to do some English with small groups if it’s not forbidden by some law or other.
My friend who is an administrative assistant at a local primary school is not (officially) allowed to interact with the children though she does help the little ones put their coats on and tie up their shoes. The fact that her English is far better than that of the teacher employed to teach it means nothing and she’s not permitted to help at all. So we’ll have to see if there are objections to my doing a spot of voluntary teaching at the Bibliotheque.
Changing the subject to the forthcoming municipal elections,(on March 9th) it seems that canvassing is not taken very seriously in our village. The outgoing Mayor’s representatives rang the bell one evening last week and I invited them in.
It was raining quite hard so they came in gladly. But they refused to sit down and politely declined a coffee or anything stronger. It seemed the last thing they expected was a discussion. After handing us a colourful paper with the names and photos of everyone on the list (15 in all) and a resumé of their achievements they hastily took their leave.
The second ‘list’ was presented even more rapidly. Two ladies rang, I opened, they handed me an envelope, said
“Here’s an alternative list for you, Good evening.” and disappeared into the night.
As for the third ‘list’ we haven’t seen it except in the local paper. And a strange bunch they are too, according to the photo, looking as though they’re just back from a trek across muddy fields instead of ready to take on the running of a village. I showed my neighbour (who hasn’t had a copy of their list either).
“What a bunch of ‘cons’ ” she said.