Waste Not

My two nights in Aire sur l’Adour (Rest on the Adour River) have been relaxing and instructive. Breakfast at 8 instead of 7 was nice. Leisurely grocery shopping for tomorrow’s picnic and essentials – like more bandaids for my blisters – was lovely. But three times lately I’ve been reminded how the French conservation ethic is embedded in their daily routines. They waste not, while many Americans, myself included, waste resources without giving it a thought.

No bags are offered at grocery stores. It is expected that you will bring in your own. After buying 18E worth of items, I was a bit surprised, but I was cool and just used my backpack.

And at the motel yesterday, I couldn’t get the air conditioning to turn on. Oh well, I just opened the sliding window a bit more, and made do. It was cool overnight, so no problem.

But it was getting really hot this afternoon, so after walking back from the grocery store, I asked at the reception if there were tricks I needed to know to get the AC to work. The young lady said, “Shut the windows.” Yes, of course, I thought. I’m no dummy. But she continued, “Only if the windows are completely shut will the air turn on.” She acted like she had told foreign guests this a few times before. Sure enough, once I slid my window over completely, I simply pushed the AC button on, and voilà! 👍 Yesterday when I tried, I had it cracked just a bit so I could air dry my smelly wool socks on the sunny ledge.

And the day before yesterday, when we discovered a place to buy some food to eat later as a picnic lunch sur le Chemin, a salad was listed in the menu. I ordered one but the lady said, “Ah, non! That must be eaten here.” What? No plastic containers like I get too often at Hy- Vee? The homemade ham & cheese quiche was wrapped in some sort of paper and I put that in my back pack. And now I recall that I couldn’t buy a juice in a glass container either. So I decided to just drink water from my refillable bottle.

These lessons shouldn’t have surprised me. I learned about not wasting anything when I stayed with my French host family in Toulouse in the fall of 1978. But how easy it is to fall into wasteful habits, especially if one’s culture promotes that. I know I have friends at home with great conservation ethics. I’m feeling like an Ugly American right now. (But at least I’ve made efforts to learn their language.) Traveling always humbles us and teaches us about others – and ourselves.