June 19, 2015
Caunes-Minervois is, like everywhere humans hide, as full of troubles as the next place, albeit writ small. Here, they often involve cultural differences ,which is unsurprising in a village of 1700 with sixteen different nationalities living side-by-side. Then again, sometimes they do not have as much to do with national customs as simple human thoughtlessness.
Last night, at 2:00 a.m., I was awakened by the sound of blasting hip-hop. There had been a wedding at 5 o'clock in the village, of a Canadian couple I'd met earlier in the week, a relatively large gathering. In total, the bridal party numbered about sixty, with many of them friends of the bride and groom's parents flying in from Calgary, Canada.
The wedding was held in Caunes because the bride's parents have a house here. I happened to walk by the Mairie just at five o'clock yesterday, just after the wedding had been celebrated. The bridal couple and many of the guests were outside the Hotel d'Alibert, where the ceremony had been held. The d'Alibert is a Renaissance chateau opposite the Mairie, and a beautiful place for an exchange of vows. I passed just as champagne was uncorked: there was much clinking of glasses, kisses and hugs. After the brief reception, the wedding party proceeded to the cave of the abbey for dinner and dancing.
The bride was tall, blonde, young and beautiful. The groom was tall, dark and handsome. They had rented a tiny house for the week, a house with a "For Sale" sign on it, and flyers pasted around the town advertising the fact. Curious exactly where the house stood, and whether it could be worth the 100,000 Euros asked by the owner, I found it in a tiny alleyway where I had never ventured. The bridegroom was just returning from buying bread and kindly let me in. The place was tiny, if beautifully renovated. As a gesture of thanks, I invited them for tea, an invitation they understandably never took me up on.
As you have already guessed, it was the bridal party that generated the noise that woke me up at 2:00 a.m. I might have been back in New York City. In the morning I decided to speak with Gilles Adiveze, head of the municipal police about it. I got to his office in the Mairie at about 10:45 a.m.
"Oh, you're not the first to come speak to me about the noise last night. Ten people have been by here before you this morning. The wedding party caused the noise. They were completely drunk by 2:00 a.m. and turned up the volume. They carried on (as you probably know) until 4:00 a.m. We went to see the bride and groom this morning and explained that what happened was completely inappropriate."
I asked whether maybe, in the future, the person in charge of abbey rentals could explain to anyone using the abbey's cave that they can't pump up the volume the way last night's group did.
Monsieur Adizeve was quick to reply:
"Oh, you know, after this, we realized we had no provision about noise in the rental contract. We have already added a paragraph to the contract concerning noise, so this is not going to happen again."
Caunes' Benedictine abbey was a ruin not too long ago. In fact, the Mairie used to rent out the rooms inside as apartments, very cheaply. The restoration changed the monument's profile and created a potential source of revenue for the village. Additionally, the Mairie has determined that reinforcement of the exterior stone of the facade is necessary, so scaffolding on the outside of the building has been erected. Workmen are plastering over the stone work, much to the annoyance of those who see the stone as integral to the charm of the building. One of the local historians in particular, is enraged, suggesting the latest restoration is part of a back-door deal with contractors to which the public was not party.
The French are a suspicious lot. They take offense at the entrepreneurial efforts of the English-speaking business owners, but also their own. And they can be deeply cynical.
Coming across the owner of the chateau where yesterday's marriage was solemnized, we chatted. The couple married under French law, although they are going to live in Canada, which is interesting, I said. In response, he asked me rhetorically, "Did I know when most French marriages began to fall apart?"
I did not.
"The first year. Getting married in France won't save yesterday's married, even if they are Canadian and going to live in Canada!"
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