Sud de France 2.6 : It’s raining, it’s pouring, it’s time to go to the HyperU.

There are 300 days of sunshine a year in the Herault but today and yesterday were not among them.

It has been raining since early yesterday morning and it washed out our plans to go to the big antiques fair in Pezenas. It is the universe telling us to slow down I guess. But there is something we can do today we can go to the HyperU.

Pronounced Ee-Par-Oe (as in shoe) it is France’s version of a super Target or Wal-Mart except that it is more a cultural adventure than a shopping opportunity.

First of all before you go shopping you have to remember to take along your own grocery bags. There are no plastic bags to be had in any French supermarket, seriously and for certain, none. You don’t have a choice between plastic or paper cause there aren't either. If you haven’t brought your own grocery bag then everything you buy is piled up loose on the counter after the cashier scans it and you just have to figure out how to carry it out. Some folks stick their noses in the air and say “who cares?” They put everything back into their carts and go out to their cars where they throw all the loose items into their trunks.

The shopping carts are different here too. They are chained together outside the store and you have to put an Euro into a slot to release one. The Euro then rides around the store in the cart’s slot with you. When you are done with the cart you stick the chain back into the opposite side of the coin slot and it returns your Euro. I suppose this reduces cart theft but who knows?

They sell a lot of wine at the HyperU at prices that break your heart. for example we’ve found an exquisite "Fitou" red that sells for 2.99 € or $4 USD. Then there's the Chateauneuf de Pape that sells for under $10 USD or half its price in the US. And none of these wines have been shaken and bounced about in the hold of ship for four weeks either. This is happy wine, calm wine.

The HyperU understands French culture and so it has created a sort of  Farmer’s market in each of its stores. Although they sell lots of packaged products and meats in Styrofoam containers like American supermarkets, they’ve kept real people working too. They have actual butchers and fishmongers, and real bakers and a real cheese market.

But big treat in a French supermarket is the other shoppers. Here in Clermont the people we live amongst are delightful. For example, roll down an aisle and if a couple of old folks are chatting and blocking the aisle, eveyone just waits. When the old people notice the blockage they quickly move aside saying “oh pardon, pardon, je suis desole” (I am so sorry) and smile a warm smile that says that everything is alright with the world. No one gets upset.

People come to the market dressed. No sweats here. No flipflops. A lot of style and some real flash is on display. In the market kids are on their best behavior too. That means double doses of sweetness. And I have yet to see a French mother lose her temper with a child. Usually they laugh at misbehavior and say something to the child like, “You really don’t want to be like that.”

The checkout lines are mind boggling to an American. So far on almost every check-out line I’ve been on the credit card readers have gone out. Cashiers will bang on them and jiggle their wires and if all else fails unplug them and switch them with a reader from a closed checkout lane. This is the old French strategy of moving problems along rather than spending lots of time solving them.

And all the while, during the breakdown, the people on line remain calm. No one’s cursing or scooping up their stuff in annoyance to find another line. More often than not, they'll begin to pass the time by having existential debates about the meaning of card reader breakdowns and whether the card readers add to the alienation of the shopper.

But no one gets upset. Once I was on a line and the card reader died. Within  minutes the guy behind me starts singing to pass the time. He’s doing his entire repetoire of old Charles Trenet tunes. Everyone is smiling.

Then the other day on a checkout line I handed the cashier my money and when she hit the button to open the cash drawer, nothing happened. She shook the drawer, hit the button, tried to pry it open with her fingernails, but the lid stayed shut. A few customers offered suggestions but the drawer was sealed.
So she called a supervisor over for help. The supervisor pushed some keys. and she tugged at the drawer. She even used her official supervisor keys on the cashier’s computer but nothing worked.

Finally the supervisor pushed the cashier back and staring intently at the cash drawer took a long swing of her arm and came down hard on the lid with her fist.

The crowd gasped.

The drawer made a little popping sound and the lid sprang open. Smiles broke out all around. The supervisor straightened her jacket and brushed off her skirt and walked away to the general approval of the crowd.

For her it was just another day at the HyperU. 

Photos and text © 2010 Steve Meltzer