Under the fine November rain, around twenty children gathered in the parking lot of the town hall of Prisches, a rural town in the North. Impressed, they look up at the imposing white and red truck, parked there since the day before. In this village of just over 1,000 inhabitants, the appearance of the MuMo – a contraction of “mobile museum” -, which since 2017 has crisscrossed rural communities and priority neighborhoods in several French departments, is an event. “Well, who has never been to a museum?” asks the mediator before starting the visit. Two young girls shyly raise their hands – in some groups, half the students are sometimes involved. “And who has ever visited contemporary art exhibitions?” is asked. Silence in the ranks. For the first time, most of these CM2s from the Prisches primary school will tame the works of Richard Tuttle, Alain Fleischer or Ben, loaned for the occasion by the Regional Contemporary Art Funds (Frac) of Dunkirk or ‘Amiens.
Inside the heavyweight, a few cries of wonder erupted. The questions, too. “They make photocopies?” asks a student in front of a lithograph by Harold Ancard. “It looks like a plan,” notes another, immersed in a painting by Jean Dewasne. For almost an hour, the mediator explains to them the notions of abstract and figurative art, warm or cold colors, shapes and counter-shapes, before taking them through a practical workshop in an adjacent room lent by the town hall. . At the end of the day, parents will be invited to discover the exhibition and their children’s creations. “The MuMo is our Trojan horse. Through its presence, residents come to take an interest in contemporary art or other cultural activities offered in the region”, illustrates Vincent Dumesnil, co-director of the Chambre d’eau, MuMo partner cultural center. “For children, it’s a golden opportunity. The first major museums are in Lille, Lens or Valenciennes… We might as well tell you that some never go there,” confirms Sophie Mathieu, director of the Prisches primary school.
This Monday afternoon, MuMo introduces CM2 students to contemporary art.
© / L’Express / Céline Delbecque
On the roads of the Coeur de l’Avesnois community of communes (C3A), which brings together 43 villages scattered over more than 400 square kilometers, the MuMo is far from being the only mobile structure to have integrated into the landscape. On church squares or town hall car parks, it is not uncommon to come across the imposing France Services “blue truck”, a “traveling vegetable garden” made available by the C3A, Nathalie Brière’s hairdressing salon on wheels or the “parent-child” café set up in a van by Amélie Chaton, educator and president of the association A part entire. A “book truck” project is even being studied, in order to offer the 30,000 inhabitants of the area a traveling library.
In this area close to the Belgian border, in which public transport remains rare – or even non-existent -, the challenge of mobility is immense. For example, 2 out of 5 households do not own a vehicle in Avesnes-sur-Helpe, the capital of the community of municipalities. Laëtitia Monnier, deputy general director of the C3A, is well aware of the feeling of isolation that some residents may feel. “There are around thirty villages here which do not have a library, for example. Proposing an alternative to this cultural distance is essential,” she believes. The same goes for sporting or educational activities: “Without mobile solutions, we effectively exclude all people who cannot travel or who do not have the means to do so.”
Feeling of abandonment
This is how on this Tuesday morning in November, around ten toddlers were babbling happily on the carpets installed in a room at the Avesnes-sur-Helpe nursing home by Corinne Guignard. On board her utility vehicle, this facilitator at the intermunicipal early childhood relay transports mats, toys, motor skills modules and accessories across around ten municipalities, to offer free sessions of awakening to reading, artistic body awakening or intergenerational activities for children up to 6 years old. Sometimes, the town’s traveling vegetable garden is used to introduce little ones to gardening. “Moms and childminders take the opportunity to meet, discuss their practices, go out a little,” says the host. Delighted, Pietro is delighted to see his 2-year-old son perform a few dance steps to the cheerful tune of a nursery rhyme. “If it hadn’t been for this traveling workshop near my house, I would never have made the half-hour drive to the larger towns of Maubeuge or Fourmies,” he admits. “We would have stayed at home us, and that’s it.”
At 62, Jean-Marc would also have stayed at home this Tuesday morning if he had not learned that the big blue France Services truck was passing through the town hall square in Cartignies, a town of 1,200 people located five minutes away. from his home. Not very comfortable with the Internet, the man rolls his eyes at the mere mention of the Retirement Insurance site. “If I call, I find a soulless telephone advisor. And if I want to make an appointment at the prefecture, it’s a forty-five minute drive,” he complains, also evoking, this feeling of “abandonment”. After his “physics” exchange with an advisor, the future retiree’s smile returned. “The majority of people talk to us about this need for physical reception. For many, it is also a way of discussing the small miseries of everyday life,” says Laura, who advises several dozen users each month. The principle has largely won over the inhabitants of Avesnois: all the meeting slots for next month are already reserved. Since 2023, nearly 4,000 cases have been handled by the blue truck, 80% of which concerned users over 55 years old.
A traveling vegetable garden wanders through the towns of the C3A, to introduce young people to working the land.
© / L’Express / Céline Delbecque
“After Covid, there was a real shift around the interest in homelessness. Reaching out to people has never been more necessary,” said Nicolas Dosen, president of the C3A and mayor of Saint-Hilaire. on-Helpe. The elected official recalls that the grocery stores, cafes or small businesses which animated many villages ended up closing, reducing to nothing the possibilities of meetings between the inhabitants. “We must constantly reinvent ourselves, not give up looking for adequate funding… We realize that it works, mayors have never been so demanding of our trucks!” guarantees the city councilor. According to Claire Delfosse, professor of rural geography at Lyon 2 University, awareness has also affected traders themselves. “Many understood that it was easier to acquire a traveling truck than to open a store in the city center, that there was a captive population in the territories that needed these services,” she explains. , evoking a “snowball effect” since Covid.
Nathalie therefore decided to launch her traveling hair salon after confinement. In a former fire truck, this former childminder rearranged large armchairs, mirrors, and even a shampoo basin. On the country roads of the North and Aisne, its broad smile and its prices, well below those of the market, have greatly won over the inhabitants. “If she wasn’t there, I would have to make an appointment a week in advance in a salon open in town, sacrifice half a day to make the round trip and pay double the price,” confides Jean -Jacques, a regular here.
Jean-Jacques, a resident of Liessies, is a regular at Nathalie’s traveling hair salon.
© / L’Express / Céline Delbecque
In a few months, the hairdresser has almost become a friend: together, they talk about their travels, the rainy weather, the price of fuel, and catch up on each other’s news. “In rural communities, these exchanges are very precious,” says Nathalie. Above all, the forty-year-old knows that some of her customers would no longer afford such “luxury” if her truck did not pass through their communities. “Some are within five euros. Between the price of gasoline and that of a cup, it’s one of the little pleasures that they would give up.”
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