Passadoc Gazette - No 107

The weekly 107

Olives and olives

It is a millennial tree, almost mythical.
Archaeological excavations trace 8,000 years BC [some say 14,000!]. In Mediterranean areas it is everywhere; It was cultivated throughout Asia Minor.

It is present in the three major monotheistic religions: the Torah, the Bible, the Koran. In one of the books, it is said that « olive tree is the first of the trees » ; it is found in the garden of Eden, near the apple tree « prohibited ».

It is an olive branch that the dove brings to Noah, meaning that the earth is near and that the flood is over.
Other symbols:
– strength: bark is rough, thick.
– Victory: At the Athens games, a crown of olive leaves was laid on the winners' heads.
– longevity, hope: the tree that has existed for so long is said « eternal ».

When the great Spanish and Portuguese navigators go to discover the new world, they take in their luggage; Today it is spreading in Argentina, Peru, Chile, Mexico and California; It also grows in Australia and Japan.

It seems that the oldest olive tree in the world is in Voves, in Crete: it would be 3,000 years [some say 4,000!]. 7 meters high, a trunk nearly 15 meters circumference, it still produces nearly 300 kg olives every two years. According to scientists, its remarkable fruiting is due to soil conditions and the Cretan sun. Is it necessary to specify that oil extracted from its fruits has exceptional qualities?

Ah! Olive oil... In ancient Greece, it treats sourness, ulcers, cholera... Today, it reduces the risk of cardiovascular disease, it always prevents ulcers, promotes growth, recedes the moment of possible senility... And it's wonderful on the skin! Anyway, except olive oil, no salvation!

– What about our oil in all this?

Patience... She's coming.* Hey!

* Research in various articles: Jeanne Monin

Father François Abbe (born 1906) He said that his grandfather gave the ladies who came to harvest the olives at home, in the Cavalières, the choice between a liter of oil or a franc, to pay for a working day. I wonder if it was oil that was too expensive or whether women's work was underpaid.

I had pointed out to my father that our ancestor was particularly « raspi » (radin) But no, at the beginning of the twentieth century, it was the current salary for women. I regret not taking notes that day. I no longer know whether it was grandfather Jean Abbe (1840-1926) or grandfather François Gautier (1838-1904), both owners in the Moors.

The olive oil today is worth between 5 and 30 euros a litre in trade. We have to find more expensive in some mills. But I don't know anyone in 2023 who would agree to work for a litre of olive oil for 7 or 8 hours.

Olive cultivation has never been a priority in our family but has always been present. I remember accompanying my father bringing olives, around 1950, to the mill in the Galinier district, on the post office square. A vague memory.

Then all our olive trees, except one still in place, were frozen in February 1956.

Badly advised by the olive expert after 1956, my father planted a variety of table olives, the Sigoise, from North Africa, ill adapted to our soil and climate. Fatal mistake. Every other year we buy our olive oil from the merchants.

The last time I met the late André Gayol, on the occasion of a modest harvest, we had tasted together the noveu olive oil (oli is male in Provençal) in his mill of Saint Martin. A good memory.

My nephews Nadine and Bernd maintain the family tradition of harvesting olives when they are harvested. The harvest of winter 22-23 has been zero, alas.

Veirem Ian que vèn... In other words: » We'll see.next year » !

Claude Boyer This reminds me of a trip to Africa, to Mali more precisely.

We had various buildings built in Katibougou, south of Bamako on the road to Guinea. This village is about two kilometers from Niger, which made it easier for us to get the water needed for cement without pumping into the wells vital for the life of the village.

At first, we had imagined using a donkey; his trailer would soon have brought us two drums of 100 litres per trip; Two or three trips a day, so we could have covered our needs.

But things didn't happen as we imagined. The only donkey in the village equipped with a trailer was otherwise occupied and could not be released for a month; We had to start work immediately.

We share our problem with the dougoutigui (village chief) who proposes to hire women from the village who would be happy to earn a salary by going to get us water.

Immediately said, immediately done; the next morning, we had a noria of women in boubou, some with their child in the back, going back and forth between the yard and the river with a calabass on the head for a salary of 1000 CFA francs a day, i.e. 1.50 €.

At first, we felt some discomfort to see these women walking miles in the sun for a sum that seemed to be derisory to us Europeans, but that was the normal daily wage for a worker.

To silence our scruples we had bought « sweets » – that's how they call the sodas they're fond of – And they could take as many as they wanted. When the project was finished, we bought sheep that the villagers prepared and we offered a nice party in the village!

This adventure is not very passadocian, but it is that of a Provencal in Mali who asked himself the same questions as André.

Jacqueline Marvier Remember:

– When my mother was doing housework, an hour's work allowed her to buy a litre of oil.

About olive oil... Found at Abbe.Photo:

– Who prepares his olives « house » ? A few months later, that's the result! A delight.

Patricia Jouve:
- Me! Rinsing, draining, drying, seasoning thyme garlic and olive oil from Nyons.

Marie-Dominique Germain :
– Yes, every year! I put them in the big salt...

Jean-Pierre Violino :
– Me too! Every year I make my own salt olives!

Old moon... Young moon...
Grandmothers
The Bridge of the Bride
The « masco » Old Provence

Old moon... young moon...

The vines grow on the old moon (downhill). By choosing this period, the branches carrying grapes are less brittle under the influence of the mistral. Varieties such as white Ugni are very sensitive to wind. Fife!

Some people don't believe these moon stories, they're wrong. The subject would deserve a long development, because there are works that have to be done from a young moon (amount) and other old moon.

Basically, we plant in the rising moon floor, we grow above the descending moon floor... and we « Go to the hairdresser » (hair is cut) to the old moon: they will grow less quickly. It's not about the full moon, it's before and after who counts.

Récemment, j’ai entendu dire qu’à Paris certains salons de coiffure ouvraient toute la nuit à la pleine lune… mais je me demande si c’est dans le but que les cheveux poussent plus vite ou moins vite.

Grandmothers

Trois portraits de femmes de Provence.

“Elles ne sont que deux sur cette photo du journal Le Méridional d’octobre 1960 mais je vais vous parler de trois dames de Provence du temps jadis. Elles n’ont brillé dans aucun domaine sinon dans mes yeux d’enfant, du moins pour deux d’entre elles car il y en a une que je n’ai pas connue, ma grand-mère paternelle, la pauvre est morte bien jeune en 1934 ; hélas je n’ai aucune photo d’elle.”

Direction le Var avec Claude Boyer

The Bridge of the Bride

Voici le Pont de la Mariée dans le Haut Pays niçois pour évoquer un divorce en 1388 et un mariage en 1860…

Il existe à Nice une plaque commémorant la dédition de Nice à la Savoie en 1388, acte à l’origine du particularisme niçois et de la fierté niçoise.

Auparavant Nice n’était pas française mais provençale et notre capitale était Aix. On y parlait provençal et les Niçois ont continué à parler leur langue jusqu’en 1860, date de l’annexion à la France de Nice et de la Savoie. Un mariage à l’italienne, le roi de Sardaigne s’était gardé Tende, la Brigue et quelques dizaines de milliers d’hectares pour pouvoir y chasser.

Don't tell the Niçois that they speak a maritime Provencal dialect barely tinted with Piedmontese and Italian elements. You'd hurt your eyes. It's a sensitive subject of Nice pride.

Andre Abbe

Claude Boyer
En général les noms de lieux proviennent d’événements fort anciens mais là ce n’est pas le cas.

Le 30 juillet 1927, Bernard Baillet et Marie-Louise Pion, jeunes mariés en voyage de noces dans la région, s’arrêtent sur ce pont pour admirer le paysage grandiose des roches rouges des gorges de Daluis.

La mariée se penche pour voir la rivière et elle passe par-dessus le parapet. Le jeune marié donne l’alerte et on retrouve le corps de son infortunée épouse le lendemain matin. L’enquête conclut à un accident mais on murmure dans les chaumières que…

N’en disons pas plus, un jugement a été rendu et on ne commente pas une décision de justice…

C’est ainsi que le pont devient le « Pont de la Mariée » ou le « Pont du saut de la mariée ».

Brigitte Gim
– Une jeune mariée est tombée du pont le soir de ses noces ; aucun rapport avec notre histoire territoriale !

Jeanne Monin
C’est la « petite » histoire locale, proche de la légende… « On raconte que… »

Les "masco" de l'ancienne Provence

An ancestral belief
Aujourd’hui plus personne n’y croit, enfin… je pense. On n’utilise plus cette expression que pour désigner quelqu’un qui « fait la brègue » (la moue), c’est-à-dire qui vous regarde avec de petits yeux méchants.

Pourtant nos anciens y croyaient dur comme fer et leur seule évocation suffisait à inquiéter les plus téméraires. La croyance en leur existence était tenace, même jusqu’au XX^e century.

Claude Boyer raconte…

Jeanne Monin

Belle histoire !

Pour un peu, on frissonnerait comme quand – enfants – on lisait des contes emplis de fées maléfiques, d’enchanteurs cruels et de gnomes grimaçants.

« La croyance en leur existence était tenace, même jusqu’au XX^e siècle ». Alors on est sauvés puisqu’on est au XXI^e ! Loin de nous les sortilèges, les envoûtements !

Les « masco »… peut-on les appeler « jeteurs de sort » ?
Comme ceux de Dumas [Le Capitaine Aréna]
– Sorcière ? reprit-il : docteur, en êtes-vous bien sûr ?
– Sûr comme de mon existence ; c’est une fille sans père ni mère d’abord. Puis, voyez-vous, elle a été élevée par un vieux berger, un jeteur de sorts, un empoisonneur enfin.

ou de George Sand [Daniella] :
– Un autre berger, son voisin de paillis, est gettatore, jeteur de sorts, et lui fait mourir ses moutons.

Les bergers de Provence – ceux qui contemplent les étoiles avec Daudet – seraient-ils plus « masco » que les autres ?

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Writing – Passadoc – Participants included:
André Abbe
Claude Boyer
Marie-Dominique Germain
Brigitte Gim
Patricia Jouve
Jacqueline Marnier
Jeanne Monin
Jean-Pierre Violino
Layout
Jeanne Monin