Paris, Tuesday.
– Two avocados, thank you!
I’m at the greengrocer and make some weekend purchases.
– Is it for when, madam? When are you going to eat them?
– Tonight.
The greengrocer picks out two large fine and ready-to-eat avocados.
– And then two mangoes, thank you.
– When are you going to eat them then, madame?
– Yes, then, on Monday, I’ll go along.
The greengrocer feels its fruits and then hands over two yellow-red splendor specimens that still draw a little to green.
Then it dawns on me how much I have missed this service in life. This expert knowledge of fruit ripening, which I – sorry – but never actually offered at my local dealers in Sweden.
I’m walking on to the florist a few numbers up the street.
– Can I help you, madame?
– I want two bunches of flowers like that, I say, pointing to some small flowers that come in many colors and are reminiscent of poppies.
– Ah, anemones. Oui, bien sûr, says the florist.
He takes the flowers, cut up the cords that hold the bouquets together and study each flower individually. He removes someone who has become ugly and then thoroughly wipes each stalk individually, saying:
– Change water every three days, madame, and feel free to put an ice cube in the vase at the same time.
But do not pour on too much water, he says.
– It should only be four, five centimeters high.
I then walk a little florists on to first the fish shop and then the cheese shop. Finally, I buy some baguettes and one tarte au framboise, a raspberry pie, at the bakery.
It certainly takes an eternal time to suddenly do this with shopping and queuing when I no longer do the shopping in one place.
Instead, I get a lot of nice meetings with people, and get to know not only the florist’s wife but also his mother-in-law, and the cousin who runs the shop in the neighborhood next door.
This business round on foot with the drama bag, and the little routines become almost meditative, like a little mindfulness exercise, where I most presently botanize in the different potato varieties or focus on not looking too long at the lobsters in the aquarium in the fish shop so I miss my coveted trip to buy a piece of salmon .
There is something very honorable, I think, in the professional skills of these retailers, which involves knowledge of what they sell, not just knowledge of how they get the most profit from what they sell.
However, it is a bit unclear how they make it go around. I wonder how long France can hold out. When will the big chains come and buy up, push away and close everything down?
In the long run, all small neighborhood stores are probably not the best for growth on a macro level. They are very good for well-being and for the soul on a micro level, if you ask me.
I do not think that in itself can be said in Sweden in a leading position without being ridiculed as hostile to growth, a little crazy and maybe even a little dangerous for the development of society. Here in France, one can still argue in such a way with the honor preserved.
As Mayor of Paris Anne Hidalgo said last autumn, for example, when bookstores in Paris were forced to introduce online sales in order to survive.
– Do not buy from the American network giant, because it means death for neighborhood life. Shop at your local bookseller.
Source: ICELAND NEWS