Bonjour tout le monde,
It has been awhile since I have posted, and for that I apologize. I have all sorts of excuses, but none are really good; although this isn't a job, I do need to write more!
A friend of mine sent me a link to a little article asking the question "What is a cultural habit in France that took you a long time to get used to?" Many of the responses had to do with getting used to French kisses. You know - in the US you see folks doing the "mwah, mwah" and kissing the air near the cheek of the other person.
In France, that would be sort of insulting...you must make cheek contact. It is not something that took me a long time to get used to; my family is huggy, so contact is not unwanted. The main thing is knowing how many kisses to give - 2, 3, 4? I usually give the two, then hang out a couple of milliseconds to see if the other person is coming back for kiss #3. (Oh, and in France, one usually goes to the right first, but in Italy, you go to the left.) When you are at a party, you have to say goodbye to everyone, which means that you often have to start your goodbyes well before actually walking out the door. And for me, in the evening, men have that late afternoon stubble, so my cheeks get a scrub, too!
The biggest conundrum for me is whether to kiss or to shake hands. Then I went to a birthday party for someone who was a friend of my friend; I didn't know anyone, but they knew my friend; that made us friends. I stuck out my hand as I said "Bonjour"; and they just leaned in for the kisses. After two attempts of shaking hands, it was kisses all around.
The second main thing that folks took time to get used to was saying "Bonjour" when greeting everyone, including shopkeepers. I needed some time to realize that Bonjour is said all the time, even when entering elevators! No other conversation is really needed then, but it is essential to recognize others.
Here is the link to the actual article, with many thanks to Kathy Christie.
https://www.quora.com/What-is-a-cultural-habit-in-France-that-took-you-a-long-time-to-get-used-to
What cultural habit took you a while to get used to? Respond in the comments.
France 2022
Old Town Nice, France
Showing posts with label French culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label French culture. Show all posts
17 June 2013
North and South
Bonjour tout le monde!
We left Paris this morning. Yesterday we had a great day, but I will write more about that later. As we left our hotel, the sky was very dark and menacing. By the time we got to the Gare de Lyon, it was pouring. It let up enough that I did not have to search for my umbrella. The gare is lovely, and you need to visit the main hall 1 to see the old style and the Train Bleu, a cool restaurant done in the old style with lots of paintings and big lamps. Our train left on time, and we were soon flying towards the blue sky (almost literally, as we outran the rainy weather).
Here in the south, it is hot and humid. I am so glad that I packed lots of light clothing and have a fan. We visited Cezanne's painting studio in the town of Aix-en-Provence, and then did a walking tour of the town. There was at one time a tax on windows, so on many buildings some windows are blocked in, or the owners have had "trompe l'oeil" fake windows painted in their place. Tonight - a Provencal dinner.
On the television - the French version of 4 Weddings, Macguyver, Murder She Wrote as well as Psych. Different stations, naturally, with some Spanish and Italian stations thrown in.
A demain!
15 June 2013
Sunday morning television
Bonjour tout le monde!
It is Sunday morning in Paris, and I am watching television. It is interesting to see what kind of channels we have in the hotel - no CNN, but BBC world does a good job of letting me know what is going on in the world. What is really interesting is what American shows exist here on French channels. Since I have been here, I have seen episodes of Crossing Jordan, NCIS: LA, and Macguyver. That was interesting...
Like usual, Sunday morning on television is a combination of children's shows (including Scooby Doo), news, and documentaries. Right now I am watching a documentary about American cheerleaders on a French channel. It talks about the real compared to the ideals that are show in movies and on television. They included a part about African American cheerleaders - who was highlighted? Crenshaw, Dorsey and Farifax High Schools in Los Angeles. Whoa.
Also included are cheerleaders for causes, like anti-racism. It is strange to see how something so American is detailed, dissected and discussed by someone outside our culture.
Eh bien, more later.
It is Sunday morning in Paris, and I am watching television. It is interesting to see what kind of channels we have in the hotel - no CNN, but BBC world does a good job of letting me know what is going on in the world. What is really interesting is what American shows exist here on French channels. Since I have been here, I have seen episodes of Crossing Jordan, NCIS: LA, and Macguyver. That was interesting...
Like usual, Sunday morning on television is a combination of children's shows (including Scooby Doo), news, and documentaries. Right now I am watching a documentary about American cheerleaders on a French channel. It talks about the real compared to the ideals that are show in movies and on television. They included a part about African American cheerleaders - who was highlighted? Crenshaw, Dorsey and Farifax High Schools in Los Angeles. Whoa.
Also included are cheerleaders for causes, like anti-racism. It is strange to see how something so American is detailed, dissected and discussed by someone outside our culture.
Eh bien, more later.
23 May 2013
les objects trouvés
Bonjour tout le monde,
I was over my dad's house the other day, and he asked me if I was interested in some boxes that he has had for, well, forever. There in the storage room were three boxes of things that I brought home from college oh so many years ago. On top of the top box was a photo album from my time as a student in Paris.
When I arrived in Paris, my first time out of North America, I was overwhelmed with everything: the hustle and bustle of a big city, a different way of living, the fact that I was in a place I had dreamt about for years. Also, the dirt... France had just started the process of cleaning all of its buildings; most of them were gray with centuries of coal soot and other stuff that causes discoloration. You can see those buildings in old French films (Mon Oncle, the Red Balloon come to mind). I spent my first week counting the days until it was time to go home.
Then it all changed as I fell in love with the city of Paris. My classmates and I were dropped into city life, and it was sink or swim. Sometimes we sank (filling in forms without knowing exactly what we were doing) but mostly we began to swim in the rhythm of the French culture. We bought very chic shoes, went to the tower of Notre Dame, had coffee in small cafes and watched the world go by. We had our favorite fruit and vegetable place, bakery, and went to movies. We lived in a boarding house in the 7th arrondissement; our room was on the 5th floor and there was no elevator. There was a concierge who brought the mail to our landlady, washed the steps and raked the grounds to make sure they were clean. She lived in a small apartment that looked out onto the entryway; she could see everyone who came in and greeted them as they passed by. We had a maid who brought us breakfast and cleaned the room, but never learned whose stuff belonged to whom, so we were constantly searching for things. I picked up a Parisian accent when I spoke French and a British accent when I spoke English. We ran to classes, took notes, and complained about assignments with our French classmates. I learned how to 'me débrouiller'. It was wonderful.
From time to time, I will post photos as I continue to look through my photos of that era. In the meantime, here is a photo of me, my roommate (on the left) and our best bud. I think we are trying to mimic supermodels; however, you must admit that we are pretty cute, in a mid 70's kind of way.
I was over my dad's house the other day, and he asked me if I was interested in some boxes that he has had for, well, forever. There in the storage room were three boxes of things that I brought home from college oh so many years ago. On top of the top box was a photo album from my time as a student in Paris.
When I arrived in Paris, my first time out of North America, I was overwhelmed with everything: the hustle and bustle of a big city, a different way of living, the fact that I was in a place I had dreamt about for years. Also, the dirt... France had just started the process of cleaning all of its buildings; most of them were gray with centuries of coal soot and other stuff that causes discoloration. You can see those buildings in old French films (Mon Oncle, the Red Balloon come to mind). I spent my first week counting the days until it was time to go home.
Then it all changed as I fell in love with the city of Paris. My classmates and I were dropped into city life, and it was sink or swim. Sometimes we sank (filling in forms without knowing exactly what we were doing) but mostly we began to swim in the rhythm of the French culture. We bought very chic shoes, went to the tower of Notre Dame, had coffee in small cafes and watched the world go by. We had our favorite fruit and vegetable place, bakery, and went to movies. We lived in a boarding house in the 7th arrondissement; our room was on the 5th floor and there was no elevator. There was a concierge who brought the mail to our landlady, washed the steps and raked the grounds to make sure they were clean. She lived in a small apartment that looked out onto the entryway; she could see everyone who came in and greeted them as they passed by. We had a maid who brought us breakfast and cleaned the room, but never learned whose stuff belonged to whom, so we were constantly searching for things. I picked up a Parisian accent when I spoke French and a British accent when I spoke English. We ran to classes, took notes, and complained about assignments with our French classmates. I learned how to 'me débrouiller'. It was wonderful.
From time to time, I will post photos as I continue to look through my photos of that era. In the meantime, here is a photo of me, my roommate (on the left) and our best bud. I think we are trying to mimic supermodels; however, you must admit that we are pretty cute, in a mid 70's kind of way.
05 November 2012
Les magasins du quartier
One of the things I love about France is how you always shop for food at the different markets. It's the custom. In just a few blocks there is a butcher, baker, a place to buy vegetables, a deli - for pork products, and the fishmonger. I love the fact that you make a connection with these people, who then help you with your purchases and even give you recipes! When I lived in Paris, we frequented the vegetable stall right across the street from our building. There, I found out about blood oranges, and also had some of the greatest fruit. The vendor was very nice, and would always help us pick out the best stuff. In fact, my fondest dream is to spend a month in the South of France, in a small village, where I will be able to meet the various shopkeepers and buy fresh ingredients to make wonderful meals. One day I will get there...
So,this article about the loss of the poissonnerie makes me just a little sad. Just as it says in the article, it is like a member of the family has been lost. Therefore, I say that we all go to Paris, live in apartments, and live a little bit of a different life, one in which connections are made on each side of the counter, and it takes you 20 minutes to get out of the store.
Names of the different stores: la boulangerie (bakery). la boucherie (butcher shop), la charcuterie (deli, pork products, salads), la patisserie (pastry shop), le marchand de fruit et legumes (fruit and vegetable vendor), la poissonnerie (fish shop).
So,this article about the loss of the poissonnerie makes me just a little sad. Just as it says in the article, it is like a member of the family has been lost. Therefore, I say that we all go to Paris, live in apartments, and live a little bit of a different life, one in which connections are made on each side of the counter, and it takes you 20 minutes to get out of the store.
Names of the different stores: la boulangerie (bakery). la boucherie (butcher shop), la charcuterie (deli, pork products, salads), la patisserie (pastry shop), le marchand de fruit et legumes (fruit and vegetable vendor), la poissonnerie (fish shop).
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