Deep in the dusty old musty ledgers of France's archives are two of my signatures, on two different marriage records. I was a witness twice to marriages in France, once in 1970 in a small village south of LeMans and once before that in 1963 in Paris.
1
When I was in graduate school in the East, the guy I spent most of my free time with, coincidentally, had spent in Germany the year I had spent in Paris as my JYA. When I moved west to finish up my graduate studies, we didn't correspond. Not once. But anyway, something motivated me to drop him a note in spring 1969, three years after we had last seen each other, to say that I was going back to Europe the coming fall, this time on Fulbright work to Lyon.
He wrote back immediately, to say he was going back to Germany too! That fall he met a French young woman in his Goethe Institute. I visited them later in Tubingen, then again at her family home near LeMans, France, where they were eventually married.
In France, all marriages are civil, in a public magistrate's office. Even if there is a church ceremony too - as there was in the French village - there has to be a civil ceremony first. It seemed natural for me to be the formal witness for my American friend.
2
But that was my second witnessing experience.
I can't recall how, in the Spring of 1963, I first met an American named Jim, who had gone to France with a young woman he said was his wife so that she could work as an au pair and he could learn French. He was taking courses at the Alliance Francaise, and he and his wife lived high up in a garret room above the flat of her employer, a Hungarian political refugee named Tzigitti.
Jim was at least a couple of years older than I, but he seemed to like my company. We had a coffee together now and then, spent some park bench time once in a while. I visited his room a couple of times and of course met his wife. She told me she was gaining experience in France so that she could be a private French tutor for rich British or American families. Jim and she introduced me also to Mr. Tzigitti.
He was an odd duck, maybe 60 years old, real skinny. He rarely shaved or brushed his longish hair, both his hair and his beard having quite a few streaks of gray. He seemed to like having people to talk to, and he enjoyed listening to himself a lot. He was energetic, nervous even, and spoke and laughed loud, very loud. Dropping in to say Hello, as I did two or three times, would take the better part of an hour.
He probably didn't think his American au pair was worth his time and humor and wisdom... since she was female (he seemed old school in that sense), and Jim's French wasn't very good. That's why I thought he liked to talk with, or to, me so much. Jim seemed to take it as relief.
3
Jim and I spent a long weekend that spring hitchhiking to Strasbourg and just over the border in Germany. Coming back, we spent a night in Metz (promounced "mess") with some distant relatives of his. This was where I discovered that in France, on tv American wrestling was popular. There was an old guy in the Metz apartment who spent the whole evening laughing and cheering and shouting at the matches on a little tv in their tiny living room, where eventually the woman of the family made pallets of blankets on the floor where Jim and I could sleep.
Jim told me sometime after we had returned to Paris that Mr. Tzigitti had abruptly announced one night that he was going to get married. He had apparently had quite an active sex life, and had women visitors over several different nights each week. Two or three of them were regulars, who would spend the night. Naturally, the maid (Jim's wife) knew all this well.
Mr. Tzigitti had spoken to Jim about it too, referring to a ranking system he had. There was Mistress #1, Mistress #2, and Mistress #3. I believe there were some incidentals now and again as well.
So it was a little surprising when Mr. Tzigitti announced he was getting married. Jim was skeptical, but his wife thought it would happen. It was also surprising that he was going to marry "his second mistress, Anne."
4
We had a few laughs about it. But after a week or two Mr. Tzigitti invited us to his wedding luncheon. And he asked me if I would be his witness.
Again, I figured he didn't think Jim's language skills were up to it, and he wouldn't have asked his au pair. So, one warm and sunny spring morning on the right bank in Paris, I met Mr. Tzigitti outside a district City Hall. He was clean-shaven and nicely dressed, but was still not what you would call an imposing figure. When we went inside, he introduced me to his bride, whom he called his second mistress Anne. Yes, and she seemed really happy (maybe because she had beaten out #1).
Anne was probably in her 40s. She was a gorgeous red-head with lots of thick wavy hair about shoulder length. She was wearing a solid colored dress, cut just above the knee, of a pretty shade of orange. She had a little bouquet of spring flowers, and she pinned a little boutonniere on Mr. Tzigitti's lapel. With her was a woman friend (whom I don't remember) who would obviously be her witness.
The lady arranged us, with me at the left corner of the desk, Mr. Tzigitti in the center with Anne on his right, and with the other witness at the right corner. When we were all set, the magistrate rose and greeted us, and the brief little ceremony took place. The groom and bride did exchange rings, but I don't remember if they kissed. Probably so.
Immediately afterward, the magistrate turned the big book around and showed Mr. Tzigitti first, and then Anne where to sign their names with the ink pen he gave them. The greeter lady told him I was an American and gave him my passport. He wrote my name and passport information and showed me where to sign, and then had the final witness sign last. Apparently, he'd had the i-d information about the other three beforehand.
5
It was just a few blocks from the district hotel de ville to the posh restaurant on the Champs-Elysees where Mr. Tzigitti had decided to hold his wedding luncheon. We met Jim and his wife there. So it was a blessedly small party for the meal: bride and groom, the two witnesses, au pair and husband. Still, it seemed an extravagant expense for a man who lived as modestly as Mr. Tzigitti, even if its purpose was to commemorate his marriage to his second-best mistress.
It was overly warm, and none of us really needed that much food or wine. But it was very nice to have been invited.
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