The market in Les Arcs-sur-Argens.
une oeillade (euh-yahd) noun, feminine
a furtive glance, an ogle; a wink, look-over, peep; a sheep's eye
…puis une oeillade au blond, une oeillade au brun, lancée en contrebande…
…then a wink to the blond, a furtive glance at the brunette, delivered like smuggled goods…
–from "Beautés de la poësie anglaise" by le chevalier de Chatelain
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A Day in a French Life…
by Kristin Espinasse
(Note: the following story was written in June 2006, before our family moved to the Vaucluse.)
It is a safe practice, unlike looking at the sun. By fixing my gaze on this village and its people I intend to burn their outlines into my memory. Nine years in this town and I haven't looked closely enough. I am sorry to have stolen only furtive glances at the Arcois* and I regret to have not pierced their sometimes solemn shells.
Having once spied these personnages,* I am now staring at them, unabashed, wide-eyed, and with that cloak of the untouchable worn only by a vagabond in a stop-n-go town.
But before I go, my hungry eyes will feast on the French. Like a gourmet who coaxes flavor out of a stick of celery (with a pinch of salt, a squeeze of citron*), I sprinkle recollections over the villagers until their very essence comes forth, to color in the outlines held by my once burning gaze.
I recall a market stand behind which that man (over there in the spandex shorts–do you see him?) once stood. Yes, he was the man at the farmer's market who once wore a halo of garlic over his head. Shoppers, like me, flocked to the stall, charmed by the man in the garlic gloriole, whose sunny disposition seemed fueled by the alliaceous aura above. With a tilt of that ail,* he acknowledged passers-by who stopped in their tracks, turned and ordered his olives fresh from the five-gallon buckets.
Then one day the man at the market reached toward his weary temples, took off his garlic and put on a baseball cap. Next, he donned a pair of sneakers and spandex shorts and took off…walking. He walked out of Les Arcs, through Trans-en-Provence, and, last I saw, he was headed to Draguignan and the hills beyond, where the scented fields of Grasse, like the aroma of hot cherry pie, may have lured him forward until the oranges up the coast, in Menton, motivated him to move on (and on, and on).
Why he hocked his halo, I'll never know. For now, he is the French Forrest Gump and to see him is to feel that itch in your sole, calling you outward and onward.
To leave a comment (if you are reading via email), please visit the blog and look for the comments link at the end of this post. Mille mercis!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~French Vocabulary~~~~~~~~~~~~~
References: un arcois (une arcoise) = one who is from the town of Les Arcs-sur-Argens; un personnage (m) = character; le citron (m) = lemon; l'ail (m) = garlic
:: Audio File ::
Listen to Jean-Marc recite today's word and quote: Download oeillade.wav
…puis une oeillade au blond, une oeillade au brun, lancée en contrebande…
Terms & Expressions:
jeter une oeillade = to throw a glance
une oeillade discrète = a discreet glance
faire signe d'une oeillade = to make eye contact with someone
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I have similar scenes engraved in my mind..The most beautiful markets I have seen were in Provence last September.AS this new September approaches rapidly..I am melancholic that I will not be at the markets again..
The arrival of Little Olivier will be my Godsend:)!
Ever since July 29, all your emails have had the title: French Word-A-Day: degouliner — the word isn’t updating! It’s messing up my filing system.
Kristin, I just wanted to let you know that I tried your recipe for ‘La Tarte à la Tomate’ this past weekend and it was DELICIOUS!! Thanks for giving my husband one more reason to love me! 🙂
Dear Kristin,
A delightful scene again….I am a sucker for farmer’s markets, never been to a french one, adore the Dutch ones, and the ones here…I would say not entertaining necessarily but a lot of good food.
Happy Thursday to you. xo
PS- I agree with John…all emails say ‘degouliner’?
I think all these degouliners have to do with Kristin’s automatic postings while she’s on vacation. She mentioned something about a problem with that and typepad. (And I’m having trouble typing on an unfamiliar keyboard while also on vacation!)
I’ve just found your blog, thanks to “La Table de Nana”. I also love markets, and I KNOW this one at Les Arcs–I visited it with my friend Tessa. Coincidentally, I just posted about the markets around me in Belgium. Thanks for this wonderful description of the market as well as the new word.
Did anyone else have a problem with the sound (.wav) file. The first part of this word (oeil) is one of the hardest sounds in French for me, and I was hoping to hear Jean Marc’s pronunciation, but it won’t download.
Oh, goodness, this scene of the market is hitting me deeply, taking me back to a year ago (almost – in September) when I stayed in Aix-en-Provence for a month. Everyday, even Sundays, there is a market in the old city.
I stayed with the most delightful people one could hope to know abroad, the Faillards. Monique is a marvelous painter and I took classes with her, trying to just enjoy the process and quiet the critical mind. (Never works) Anyway, I had not planned to return to France this year, but reading this post has put the fire in my belly to go on line and look for a ticket!
I’m remembering those wonderful mornings, sipping a cafe creme and watching Place Richelme fill with every type of person imaginable, the market bursting with beautiful flowers, vegetables, olives, cheeses all sorts of goods and goodies. Everyday the man playing his harmonica and passing a hat for change was there, asking for a cigarette from someone sitting near me at the outdoor seats…un homme sat in an alcove and spoke “bonjour, madame,” each time I passed by. Everyday, the bounty of the countryside and the sea…the fishmongers with their huge “camper” spread open with mound after mound of all sorts of sea delights. The woman who dressed all in white and pancaked her face/hands/arms white and stood like a statue…her hat on the ground, too…so many memories…the couple dancing to the music of the flamenco (sp?) guitarist who came in the evenings to play his music and to fill his hat…beautiful music…and few people who wanted to give him anything…all these and more memoories are flooding back and there is an ache in my heart to be there.
Forgive my rambling; I’m “va-clempt” with remembrance of times past (groan!) wwww.expedia…….
Yes, Kristin explained that the disconnect between the word in the heading and the word of the day was due to her being on vacation and the Mysteriousness of blogs and sites and such when one is away.
Re: pronunciation du mot de jour…
the explanation in parenthesis is only for oeillade (euh-yahd) and does not consider the preceding “une” article, I think. Which may/may not make the pronunciation easier.
“Calling Newforest…” (who would definitely know!)
I really like your word-a-day feature! I added the widget to my igoogle 🙂