Chez Nous
It’s nearly impossible to get out to see what goes on outside these walls, because tout le monde comes to me for house calls. Of course, the doctor comes by….but the vet also insists on house calls. And the tailor. Our first week or so here, the zipper broke on a key pair of work pants. I thought this would be a great opportunity for me to get out for exploring with the task of finding someone in the neighborhood who could do this simple replacement. As soon as I inquired where to go to find a seamstress, an event formed. Cary invited her tailor to her house the following evening. “Great, Bronwyn grumbled, now everyone in the embassy is going to know my pants busted.” I arrived with black work pants stuffed in a sac a l’heure chez Cary to find a spread of hors douvres and spritzers. Other women had been summoned for the event. They bore Saks garment bags stuffed with quelque choses that needed to be tried on fashion show style for a fitting prior to alterations. Long sleeves were to become off the shoulder, darts were to be added, hems raised. I explained to the tailor that my project was small, but urgent. No, I didn’t need to change the style or fit, just the zipper, please. He amicably took the sac, the pants and the $4. The next day, the pants returned chez nous, good as new.