The first time I went there it was on You Tube. Somewhere in 2010 American tourists made a house tour with a low quality camcorder. It’s a stone house with three buildings, the main house for them and two smaller ones for the guests, a garden, a cabanon for the gardener, and a swimming pool. There is a French word for that kind of house, and they use it to call the house by its last name, Mas Dagan. He grew up there and went to kindergarten in the closest neighboring city, and yet the German accent that has fled most English words (with some exceptions : peepple, probblem, kompletely…) curelessly colonized the childhood house to the new, Franco-german toponym, « Mass Daganne ».
His father lives here during the summer, and goes back to his German house, near Villingen-Schwenningen for the winter. He is a pianist. He drinks cacao in the morning, which is a tall glass of hot chocolate with a pink cardboard straw in it. During the day he listens to vinyls and plays the piano. He leaves the house to go buy vinyls at the Fnac in Avignon-Nord, or if he hears about a garage sale in the area, where he suspects to find more vinyls. He likes Sibelius, Miles Davis, Julie London, Schubert. I find a record of the Winterreise sung by Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau on the shelf, and I ask Dieter, can we listen to this. He is pleased and upset and shrieks aber Nour Winterreise hören in der Provence!
And as in a film or a novel where the protagonist’s patronym anticipates his character before we as a spectator or reader get to know him, I got to know Dieter before meeting him, through his last name, Hörr.
His girlfriend Sabine is far less interesting. She drives an anchor-grey Volkswagen van that I call das Autobus and it doesn’t make her laugh. She cooked for us on the first day. She says she always makes tabouleh when she has guests in Germany, but today she made a parmigiana with eggs she brought from Baden-Württenberg. She says she went back there for a garden emergency. She is a working florist. Most tables in the mas are covered of small bowls half filled with pink roses floating on top.
She often wears long tie and dye black dresses that simultaneously hide and flatter her undeniable breast implants. She has bleached ashy blond hair that manages to be sensual when she puts it up in a « messy bun ». She is a thorough cleaner, and sometimes hands Dieter a rake to gather leaves in the garden.
I ask if they ever go to Marseille and Dieter promptly replies that he doesn’t really like Marseille, because of all the cloaked Arabs and their barbaric methods. He says once he was in the center, probably rue d’Aubagne, and he saw something that frightened him away from Marseille. There was all these Araber in their long cloaks threateningly standing in front of ten headless chickens.