O S M A F Frankenhaeuser

Markets are part of the joy of provencal life. Only  part of going to a market is about buying stuff (although we always find something we feel we need). A big part of going to a market is just about being there. Walking around, enjoying the sunshine, looking at all the products on offer, looking at everybody else, meeting friends, having a cup of coffee or a glass of wine. All things that could be defined as “joie de vivre.”

There is another aspect of joie de vivre.

When we meet people here in Provence one of their first questions is ususally where we live. Funnily enough that seems to be important. Or then it is just a way to strike up a conversation. Once we have explained that, and the fact that we rent a house, we do not own one, some more explanations are usually needed. So we slip into discussions about how long time we spend here, when we come, how we come and about summers and winters and how attractive various seasons are. However, after all these exchanges of information one can usually still see some bewilderment on the face of the person we are talking to. There’s a need for more. The Why? needs to be explained. And also, we clearly do not fit the picture. We’re not here in the summer, for one thing. And most foreigners come house hunting. We don’t. So things need to be put into place and explained. The next question is most probably: What we do here? Or – why are we here?

Well, that is of course a good question. What do we really do here? Why do we come? A simple question, but not very easy to answer. It doesn’t help much to say: we play golf and take long walks. So most of the time I now simply say: We live. We live here, as we would do anywhere else in the world. 

But this is a too simplistic answer. Both for us and others, in fact. Somehow simply living isn’t enough. Even if the French were the ones who invented the phrase “joie de vivre” – Emile Zola even wrote a book with that title – and even if people in Provence are real masters at enjoying life, somehow the question still hangs there, prompting some kind of a proper answer. 

Maybe the question  relates to retirement, and that those we meet and talk to do not necessarily automatically place us in the box ” retired”. So they need an explanation. Or then they simply want more conversation and discussion? 

I find it hard to believe that the people in Provence would subscribe to the Lutheran work ethic. They do not, as I do, have Luther sitting on one shoulder and Calvin on the other, both of them constantly whispering in my ears that I have just missed….ought to….should absolutely…..must………The combination of the two is lethal. It is also extremely difficult to get rid of that feeling.

However, the question remains. And we need to answer. Justify ourselves somehow. With the relationship I have to Luther and Calvin, it isn’t easy. They are masters in giving everyone a bad conscience. But I am trying hard to fight their influence,  to live as if they did not exist and to give an honest answer which I can feel is justified. So here it comes:

Be it as it is with the conscience, we live. As simple as that. We eat well, we drink well. The wines are good. Probably not the best in the world, but good, sometimes excellent. The food is great. Prices are well below anything in Finland, both in restaurants and in the markets and shops. There are good restaurants in the vicinity to choose from,  quite a few Michelin one star ones. We go to markets and enjoy all they have to offer. We go to concerts and to art galleries and exhibitions, we attend all kinds of social events,  we go to dinners (increasingly, since we are now here for the third time and have made more friends) . I ride and Filip plays golf, we take long walks with the dog. Whenever I can persuade Filip to join we go for hikes in the Luberon. I draw – Lourmarin des Arts offers live model drawing, which I haven’t done since I studied, but enjoy immensely now that I’ve tried it again. And we both take it easy, we slow down. It takes an effort. I very consciously have to tell myself it is OK  just to relax. Or maybe it isn’t? Maybe more than 40 years of a sometimes quite tough working life isn’t enough, maybe I am still not entitled to just enjoying life, having time for myself and for those I care most for? Luther is not merciful, is he?
However, I found a quote I liked. From a well known American actor, Christopher Walken. I have a feeling this is what I will  try to live by from now on:

“None of us are getting out of here alive, so please stop treating yourself like an after thought. Eat the delicious food. Walk in the sunshine. Jump in the ocean. Say the truth that you’re carrying in your heart like hidden treasure. Be silly. Be kind. Be weird. There’s no time for anything else.” 

Riding in the Luberon is one of the nicest ways of discovering the region. At least I think so.

Near Vaugines there is a small stable with seven horses. The owner, Nicole has a very special realtionship with her horses. She clearly loves them, knows them well and treats them with a lot of respect. She subscribes to “natural horsemanship”, which is a collective term for many different horse training methods. The methods vary but generally share principles about getting to know the horse, deriving from how horses behave naturally and rejecting hard and abusive training methods. “The natural horsemanship movement is controversial in the mainstream equestrian community, with criticism leveled at practitioners on a number of levels, while natural horsemanship advocates in turn are highly critical of more traditional methods”, according to Wikipedia. Be that how it is, Nicoles horses are friendly, pleasant to ride and very reliable. Among Nicole’s principles is not to use ordinary horse shoes, but instead rubber or plastic shoes that are put on just for a hiking tour. The horses seem to adjust to them quite nicely.

We rode from the paddock to the Chapelle de l’Ermitage above Cucuron, where the view over the valley can only be described as magnificient.

               

The  vines are slowly turning red, orange and green. So are bushes and trees. The valley changes its colours and becomes more serene. The shadows grow, birds are flocking on telephone lines, weighing them down so that it looks really dangerous. And in the evening light, just before the sun sets, the whole valley glows. The slopes of the Luberon are full of strange shadows, secretive, as if all kinds of mysterious, exciting adventures await.

 And it is still, not counting the wintersounds from birds, an occasional airplane and the shots from the hunting parties roaming around everywhere. And yes, then we have the dogs of course. The dogs, the dogs. 

Not far away there is a farm, with lots of animals. Some of them can be seen from the road. The area is also littered with debris. Old farm equipment, rusting metal in heaps, plastic, wooden containers …… it all looks like a scrap yard.

Hens, geese, ducks share a cage close to the road, further in behind hedges there are dogs, and somewhere even further behind donkeys. Possibly there are more animals, but they cannot be heard or seen. The animals look clean and well kept, but the dogs bark. When someone passes by, obviously, but that probably doesn’t happen all the time. The road is small and there is not a lot of traffic. So barking in daytime is somewhat limited. But they also bark at night, sometimes for hours on end. And then the owner presumably sleeps (although it is hard to imagine how that is possible? earplugs?), but during the day he screams at them. A lot, since they do not obey. That dogs bark is obviously normal. But healthy, happy dogs do not bark continuously, nor do they howl and complain the way these dogs do. Poor dogs. Our solution? Well, we close the shutters at night, that keeps any sounds out. Apart from that there is not much we can do. And, frankly, there are many much bigger problems in the world today than barking dogs. We are keenly following the presidential race in the US, keeping fingers crossed for Hillary.