After a week of forced closure, a Géant brand has reopened its doors “in degraded mode” in the capital of “Caillou”. Behind the 5,700 square meters of shelves, a miniature version of the archipelago where staff, customers and neighbors try to cope.
The cashier herself seems confused. “I’m sorry ma’am, but you took too much product. What do you want me to remove?” The customer, taken aback, examines the items on the carpet in a few seconds. “One of my soaps, then”, she stammers, not entirely convinced of her choice. A week after the start of the violent riots which shook New Caledonia, the‘immense Géant hypermarket in the Sainte-Marie district, in the heart of Nouméa, has just reopened its doors last weekend. But like the French archipelago in the Pacific, the brand also operates in “degraded mode”.
Monday May 20, seven security guards screen the entrances and exits of the store. Three others are stationed in the parking lot. Customers enter in groups of thirty. Carts are prohibited. Everything has to fit in a bag, you have to ration. A manager, yellow bib on his back, prefers to warn the next customers: “You won’t be able to do your monthly shopping!” Everywhere, signs remind you of the rules: “Two items per product cycle at checkout” And “two kilos of fruit and vegetables per person”. Every five minutes, the reception agents take turns repeating the message over the loudspeakers.
The brand has, in a way, regained its configuration.Covid-19″, with pride of place for essential products. A restock of toilet paper rolls arrives on a pallet truck. Mosa is responsible for putting them on the shelves. “The idea is that people can quickly find what they need. Right after the paper, we added the orange juice.”
Impossible, on the other hand, to take advantage of the “mega maxi promo” on household appliances. The radius is blocked by wooden pallets and warning tape. “Non-essential products”, judges the management. It’s 25°C outside, but no one seems interested in the deckchairs either. “Who would want to go to the beach when there was another Kalashnikov shooting last night?” asks Violaine, a nurse at the hospital in the capital, Nouméa. Another customer points out that the advertising that floats above the shelves has aged poorly. “‘Two trips per day to be won. Bali, Los Angeles, Dubai.’ The airport should already reopen here…”
The 5,700 square meter hypermarket resembles a miniature version of New Caledonia, where staff and customers are trying as best they can to cope with the crisis and its consequences. That day, the one who runs cash register number 1 is used to handling money, but much larger sums: Ingrid normally works on the floors as financial director of the Bernard Hayot group, owner of the brand. “Today, we are not making the roll call, counting those absent and those present. We are in a spirit of solidarity, I myself am discovering the position, comments the executive, dressed like everyone else in a red t-shirt emblazoned with the name of the brand. We have employees who cannot work, either because there is no more gas, or because there are roadblocks.”
In the aisles, an elderly woman drags her cane. She is looking for batteries for her flashlights. It is “just in case, if you have to hide.” On the rest of his shopping list, “pasta, eggs, and a large Scotch roll”. “Do you have this?” she asks an employee. “It’s to consolidate our barricades in my neighborhood.”
The adhesive tape aisle remains well stocked. Not like the fishmonger, already closed. There butcher shop should soon do the same. In the fruit and vegetable section, Sylvie spends her day removing labels from empty stalls. Eggplants, finished. Potatoes, finished. Carrots, finished. Cabbage, finished. There she is, trembling in front of the celery bin. “It hurts my heart, because there are mothers, children, who arrive and who have nothing left in their fridge. I don’t know if we can say it like that, but the truth is that people are trying to survive. These are the races of survival!”
“This morning, a man cried because he hasn’t had anything to eat for three days. He had promised to bring food for his children. But what? There’s nothing left.”
Sylvie, Géant employeeat franceinfo
A little later, a van crosses the parking lot. “Arrival of eggs”, an employee believes. Failed, they are more like plants. “When will you be restocked?”asks a couple politely. “I’m not going to lie to you, no one knows.” On May 16, three days after the start of urban violence, David Guyenne, president of the Chamber of Commerce and Industry of New Caledonia, told AFP that “80 to 90%” the share of the Nouméa distribution circuit (i.e. stores, warehouses, wholesalers) “annihilated”.
At the weigh-in, Richard attempts a call to order: “It’s 2 kg per person. Here, you are at 3.5 kg”. “Someone has already attempted 8 kg, remembers Eugénie, her colleague. At 2.1 kg, I let it go. Even at 2.2 kg.” At the bakery, a supply is announcedyears fifteen minutes. Although, false joy: “more like an hour.”
But time is running out. The store has in fact temporarily reduced its opening hours for customers: from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m., instead of 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. Time, then, to let employees do their own shopping on the shelves and return home in time before the curfew which starts at 6 p.m.
At the back of the parking lot, a rickety, charred shopping cart shelter. The only damage to report on the site. If the Sainte-Marie hypermarket is still standing, it is thanks to the vigilance of the neighbors. “It must be said, they ensured his protectionrecognizes the sign. When we were closed, they made rounds day and night to avoid the worst.”
“There was incredible momentum between us, recognizes Patrick, who lives 300 meters from the store. We looked after our homes, our neighborhood, and therefore our Giant. We wrote to each other as soon as there was a suspicion, we were ready to call the police.” To date, the “Voisins de Sainte-Marie” WhatsApp group has 450 members.
The other brands of the Bernard Hayot group in New Caledonia were less fortunate. “Five of them were looted, burned, or both, laments Michel Meesthe Director General. Four Leader Price, a Vival. It’s worth several million euros. So seeing the Géant de Sainte-Marie reopen, that makes up for it. It’s a way of seeing life getting back on track, it’s keeping a connection with our customers.”
In the queue, outside the store, a man calls out to the security guards with a big smile: “I’ll tell you the truth, I thought you burned too. I read that on Facebook.” The two staff do not flinch. They can speak later, if they wish. The group is considering the implementation “next” speaking time for all employees to release trauma.