La Fête du Travail

Today, May 1, is Labor Day in France - La Fête du Travail. It's by far the quietest of France's many holidays. Schools and 99% of businesses are closed; even the metros and buses do not operate. Yesterday, my husband had noticed a sign on the door of our neighborhood market indicating that they'd be open for a few hours, so I ventured out into the morning drizzle to get a few things we needed: orange juice, milk, baguettes. The tiny store wasn't busy; most people plan ahead and get their groceries the day before. The boulangerie was a different story. Fresh daily bread is a necessity in France, but only one bakery in our quarter was open; a long line snaked around the corner. While waiting, I noticed several groups of women setting up makeshift flower stands along the boulevard. It reminded me of the crude lemonade stands I used to set up as a kid - these "shops" consisted of a folding chair, and perhaps a small table or just a bucket containing tiny bouquets. This is definitely not a normal occurrence -- I realized it must have something to do with the holiday. Curious, I stopped at one of the stands after collecting my bread. A smiling woman greeted me from beneath her colorful umbrella. "Bonjour!" I replied. "J'ai une question. Je suis américaine, et je voudrais savoir pourquoi on vend des fleurs aujourd'hui?" She told me that these flowers, lilies of the valley, are always sold on Labor Day to signify good luck. She further explained that she lives in the countryside, but she has come to Lyon each Labor Day for eight years in a row to sell her flowers. Would I like to buy a bouquet with a rose included for four euros, or just the lilies alone for two? Unfortunately I only had a 2-euro coin left after my errands, so I got the small one. She seemed pleased enough and wished me a bonne journée. I smiled at the irony as I walked home in the rain, clutching my bouquet and baguettes: on Labor Day, the day that nobody works, entrepreneurialism was alive and well on the streets of Lyon.