Le marché

Whole chestnuts: ubiquitous at produce stands, as they grow well in southern France

In the States, the market is an antiquated, though very quaint notion. The tradition has been revived somewhat in New York and other major cities, but the market still has a rarified air to it: it’s either a statement of green-ness (the “buy local, think global” crowd) or associated with a big event (the Union Square Christmas Market).

On the street perpendicular to mine in Paris, however, is a market that is open all day, every day (with each stand taking its day off on Sunday or Monday). Occupying two very long blocks, the rue de Levis is lined with shops, small restaurants, and stands; essentially, if I wanted to, I could shop for all my home goods, food, and even clothing in that one stretch.

While I do make use of it, especially for produce and bread, much of the time I spend on rue de Lévis is actually just observing: it happens to be the most direct street to my metro stop, so I walk up it at least 2-4 times a day. I could probably draw a map plotting each and every store and stand, tell you which produce shop has the best apples (or greens, or grapes…) and which boulangeries are open on Sunday. But more importantly, I’ve come to see the street as a microcosm of Parisian culture, and love what it reveals in that respect.

Around 9-10am, the morning commuters rushing to the metro are trickling out. It’s the hour of the old ladies: they amble slowly, alone or in pairs, gradually filling their “caddies”—tall canvas bags on wheels, that trail behind them as they go from shop to shop. Some of them are so old, and walk so gingerly and slowly, that you can’t help but wish someone would take over the errand-running in their house. But it seems to be a matter of pride not to cede this task. I know, for example, that our elderly neighbor has her children visit nearly every day, and yet it is always only Madame Masson I see in the hallway in the morning, ready to go to the market with her caddy.

At lunch there is the local business crowd, who flood the restaurants on Lévis and the adjoining streets at 1pm on the dot. They are often in groups, rather than pairs, which strikes me as a difference from New York. Even more surprising is that they seem genuinely relaxed, and even jovial… they laugh, smoke, drink wine… and are back at their desks by 2:30. (If my father took such a lunch break, I often think to myself, he might be singing a different tune!)

Around 4, it’s the after school rush: elementary school kids on scooters (watch out, though, those boys are vicious!), babysitters (frequently immigrants) pushing strollers, and bands of surprisingly glam preteen girls. And then, of course, the hungry post-work bunch, forming endless lines at the supermarkets (yes, they have those, too, on the rue de Lévis!)

And, last but not least, there is the creepy, hooded old man who appears around 10pm… same exact spot in the middle of the street, same exact schpiel. Another day has passed on rue de Lévis, and it’s rather nice to know that nothing has changed…

Location