(the misadventures of an expatriate corporate dropout)
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
One morning this week as I returned from an outing, I pulled up to my house and saw la Poste fellow parking his bike outside my door and knocking. I smiled and nodded from the car, getting out. I was expecting he had a package or something I had to sign for.
He asked me if I would like to buy a calendar. He reached into one of the hanging side-rucksacks that usually contain the mail and pulled out a stack of calenders.
"Vous preferez les chiens? les chats? les fleurs?", he inquired.
How much?, I asked. "C'etais votre choix" ... (it is your choice) ...
So now I was flummoxed. Calenders for a donation?! and why?
I asked him if the money was for the village. It took a couple of tries before he understood. No, he said, for me!
I walked back to the car to get my purse. The calendars were clearly printed by the post (they are marked as such). They are more than calendars, they are hardbound with maps and almanac information, emergency phone numbers for France and the Dordogne, post codes and various other stuff.
I offered him 5 euros and he smiled and thanked me. This is my selection.
I'm still baffled. Obviously I missed something ... fundraising for postmen?