…flock together – and are loyal to a fault, says Kristin Espinasse
There is never a dull moment in our three-generational nid here in La Ciotat. Recently, my mom called out, “Five green parrots!”, sending us flying down the stairs. Here she was, the doyenne of our family, standing enraptured beside our palm tree – not a bird in sight. Just when I thought Mom was seeing things, a whoosh of green flew over us landing in the majestic pin parasol across the street.
We stared in amazement – not least my husband, equipped with binoculars. How did these exotic birds end up in the Land of the Mistral? Were they escapees from a neighbouring villa? Fugitives from the zoo in Toulon? In the days that followed, I quizzed everyone from the Jehovah’s Witnesses who regularly ring our doorbell to the meter maids (trained to spot freeloaders). Thanks to these accidental informants, I learned a lot about la perruche à collier (Psittacula krameri), including a few things we outsiders have common…
CHAMELEONS BY CHOICE
We both migrated to France from hot climates (the Sonoran Desert of America for me and the tropical forests of Africa for them) and were both set loose at Roissy Airport in the early 1990s – I on my way to Lille, and the ‘red beaks’ on their way to a Parisian pet store – where we did not, as the French say, passé inaperçu.
The wayward parakeets, in addition to their becs rouges, are distinguished by their electric green feathers and bruyante manner.
To camouflage their deafening chattering they congregate above the noisy autoroute in Aubagne. As for me, it was my white tennis shoes and foreign accent that screamed ‘étrangère’. I’ve ditched the white tennis shoes – even if they are back in style now in France – and instead of the motorway, I try to mix in with loud groups of French diners.
But there is one trait we share that came as a surprise even to me: we migrators tend to stick together.
“It is true,” I admitted to my husband while out birdwatching (hopefully a new sport? Something we could do together as a couple?).
“All of my girlfriends are anglophone. I don’t seem have any French copines!” I lamented.
Jean-Marc pushed aside his binoculars in time to flash a devilish grin and a naughty riposte: “Moi, oui!” Which brings us to another thing I guess I have in common with a cackling parrot: we put up with our silly mates for a lifetime!
UN NID = nest
UN/UNE DOYEN(NE) = elder/patriarch/matriarch
UN PIN PARASOL = umbrella pine
UNE PERRUCHE À COLLIER = rose-ringed parakeet
PASSER INAPERÇU = go unnoticed
UN BEC = beak
BRUYANT(E) = loud/noisy
UNE AUTOROUTE = motorway/freeway
UNE RIPOSTE = retort
From France Today magazine
Read more of Kristin’s popular columns here:
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