Categories
Culture France

Things that Shocked Me When I Moved to France

A View from the Citadel Hill in Bitche, Moselle, France in October 2019

NOTHING

That’s out of the way, then. That’s right, nothing shocked me when I moved to France last May. What? Am I saying that France is just like America? Nope, pardner, I ain’t a gonna try to tell you that! (Read it in a stereotypical Western Movie accent.) That’s because I did do my homework prior to setting out from Reid Airport that morning. In fact, the first time I visited France was in 1976. We took a Laker charter (you may remember them if you’re as old as dirt like me) to London, then a night train/ferry from London to Paris. Got off the boat in Calais and discovered that the French railroad workers were on strike until 6 am. It was now 4:30 am. I was desperate for coffee and hungry. Luckily there was a counter where one could buy food. We had some Francs. Then, SHOCK! Those people selling the food spoke FRENCH! YOIKS! Luckily for me, the person I was with had taken French. Unluckily, they were afraid to use the language because they might do it wrong? Might? If you weren’t born in Paris, that’s a guarantee! But I asked them how to pronounce various menu items, and ordered and received coffee and some sort of food. Lesson one: French people speak French!

In a few hours we got off the train at Gare Du Nord in Paris. We needed more francs. I trotted over to a change booth and started asking to cash a traveler’s check. SHOCK! The soman in the booth did speak English, and she was extremely nice to me in explaining that it was imperative to use a polite form of address in France, and she explained about Bonjour, Au revoir, S’il vous plait, and merci. (Even in French, those words don’t necessarily sound the way the look like they would.) I’ve followed her instructions with every person I’ve interacted with in France since that morning, and boy howdy, people here are almost unfailingly polite, helpful, and friendly. Lesson two: If you’re polite in the French manner, you get treated well in France.

Those were the biggies. Besides them I came to expect that many businesses close for lunch from roughly noon to 2 pm, many more businesses simply close on Sunday, and traditionally and still today, many businesses that are open Sunday (restaurants and such like) are closed on Monday. Lesson three: be adaptable to local customs.

There are a few more unfamiliar things. Buying gas (essence) by the liter, lotsa roundabouts everywhere, a couple of odd traffic rules, but nothing else that I found shocking, even when I first encountered them. France is, amazingly enough if you know the history of the place, a free country, with the biggest difference being that everyone is expected to consider neighbors and others before acting on one’s own behalf. That, and this has caused me problems a few times, is how my mother raised me to act, although I never really started doing it before that morning in Gare du Nord.

So that’s cool, huh? And my advice from this post, wrapped up nicely? If you’re thinking of moving to France, forget all those wonderful notions of France as a hotbed of culture and refinement. France has culture and refinement, but in the end, what you bring with you is what you’ll notice, at least in terms of interpersonal relations. France is a place. A nice place, not without its problems, but then so is every state in the US, when you get right down to it. Visit a lot, get to know the country and the people and their “French” ways. That way you can get all of your shocks out of the way and settle right into living your life in your new home. Hey, worked out for me so far!

Categories
Food France

French Food

I did eat some of this. Gallettes made with gluten free wheat. They’re French.

That photo is of a real menu from a real restaurant where I once ate. I liked it okay, my wife not so much. Anyway, that stuff is French food. Prior to the 1930s, when an Italian chef named Boyardi (sound it out) introduced America to Italian food, America’s favorite cuisine was French cooking. My mom was a home-ec major in the 1920s, and she learned French techniques (not necessarily all that well, to be honest.) For her, pepperoni was too spicy to eat, which is true of anyone who is a confirmed lover of traditional French cooking.* Maybe it’s because I lived for so long in the Southwest, first near Denver, then in Paradise Nevada, that I like a little heat in my food. Traditional French cooking is only hot if it’s straight out of the oven, as it were. French spices are subtle, and include salt and pepper on the table, just like the US of A.

This is not to say that French cooking is bad. In fact, some of the best food I’ve ever tasted has been prepared in the kitchen of a traditional French restaurant, served elegantly, and in portions designed to delight rather than engorge. (Topic for another post there.) But, I do crave a little heat once in a while. I brought a big bottle of Cholula with me, so I can spice up anything I want to. I haven’t seen Cholula for sale in France, but I did see some Tapatio, which is almost as good, some La Victoria (from New York City!) and, in local supermarkets, Tabasco. Tabasco makes sense because, well, “New Orleans = Neauveau Orleans”, Orleans being a French city once home to a famous teenaged general. Tabasco therefore is arguably related to France. Somehow. However it is, they do sell Tabasco, in the foreign foods section.

Bacon. Yummy bacon. Sure, but in Europe, “bacon” refers to cured meat. Technically, ham is bacon.** But, what if I want a few slices of crispy goodness in France? I’ve known for a while, but today I confirmed it. Yesterday I bought quatre tranches of poutrine fumé. Poutrine is what they call pork belly meat in these parts. I tried some a few weeks ago, but it wasn’t cured. It was okay, but not great. Today, though, I fried up those four slices of smoked pork belly and ended up with four slices of crispy bacon. I fried some hash browns and and egg to go with, and had the first actual savory breakfast I’d had since the first Sunday in May. (Two days after that I came to France.) (I miss the Omelet House 50s Diner.) I haven’t checked, but I have read that pepperoni is available in a humongous store called Carrefour, which means “intersection,” in the foreign foods section. I was there, but didn’t even find the foreign foods section, which I’m sure is extensive.***

So, if you want your favorite foods from America in France, you are not entirely out of luck, but you will probably have to go to some effort to round them up. We went to an “American Diner” in Confolens, but it was run by Brits, who tried, I’m sure, but they aren’t familiar enough with American diner food to really pull it off. I’d like to find an American to open an American diner, if possible. (I can’t. I don’t have a work permit.) There is a chain called Buffalo Grill that serves actual American food, too. Or, you can order online, assuming that they have what you need.**** Then again, I live in France, the wine is all good, there are a variety of beers on tap (even Budweiser) and all-in-all, the food is pretty good. And now, I have bacon. Mmmmm. Baaacon!

*They don’t sell pepperoni in France. Instead they use chorizo, which isn’t Mexican but Spanish, although Mexicans seem to like it a lot.

**This explains Canadian Bacon, which Canadians call “back bacon.” It is bacon from the pig’s back, rather than the pig’s belly. And yes, it is more or less just like ham, isn’t it?

***Carrefour is about the size of three normal Walmart Supercenters, and has similar merchandise.

****There is, of course, McDo, as McDonalds is usually named. The fries disappoint, usually.

Categories
Culture France

“Just Go With It!”

Inside Orleans Cathedral, May 2022

I was out on a walk in the country today with some new friends (acquaintances in France, I suppose) when I mentioned the fact that some French cultural norms drive me nuts. One of my walking companions provided the suggestion that I am using to title this post. A good idea, I suppose. Just go with it. I mean, what are you gonna do? Sue? Let me cite an example.

As you may have read, my Surface Pro 4 battery died. I got a new battery and took it to a shop in Angouleme that advertises that it can fix any sort of device. Well, their technician said “no” and they sent me to another place (after about a week.) That place, after about the same amount of time told me that their technician said that fixing it was “impossible” because one has to remove the screen. This is not true, although it was true of earlier models. I cracked the screen on a Surface Pro 3 myself. For the 4 and newer, one removes the back. It isn’t easy: 58 steps, rated “difficult.” But, it can be done. Misinformed? Simply don’t want to fix the thing? Well, maybe. In France, you almost always start by saying that something is impossible. “Walk across the street? Impossible!” Then the other person (me in this case) argues, and you go back and forth, and oh, hell, after a while maybe “no” becomes “yes.” For me though, it just wasn’t worth it. See, the first place first told me that they couldn’t find the battery. I bought one for 50 Euros from Amazon. Then they sent me over. They told me there that their tech was out of town, then a week later that he said it was impossible. If the aim was to wear me down, it worked. I shall attempt to replace that battery myself. Might as well, even though my wife bought me a new laptop on Amazon Prime Day last week, which, as you can maybe tell, works just fine.

For me, a misinformed American, being led around like I was is grounds for never speaking to any of those people again. But, this is France. That’s the way they do things. I used to be a computer systems guy, so I actually have a decent chance of getting that new battery installed and the old tablet working again. A Surface Pro tablet is kind of fun, doesn’t take up much room, and you can get a decent docking station for it and use it as a desktop, which of course is just what I did, for years. So I might as well have a go. If I weren’t knowledgeable in computers and their various quirks, I don’t know what I’d do. Probably just buy a replacement first thing. But, I strongly suspect that, had I persisted long enough, I’d have gotten one of those places to put the battery in for me. For the record, I don’t blame them for not wanting to, but as an American, I say just tell me that. What the hey, you don’t have to fix anything you don’t want to, do you? Does anybody? No, outside of peon-level jobs, nobody does.

I am not complaining, just illustrating a prime difference between French and American culture. In France, the blunt, plain-spoken American response (Sorry, we just can’t fix that old thing ’cause it’s just too damn old) would sound impolite. Saying it’s “Impossible” doesn’t. Get it? Yeah, me neither, but I’m going with it. When in Rome, er, Angouleme, right?

This gives me a prime opportunity to plug frequent backups, preferably to the cloud. (Off-site, as we used to say.) I was able to post here using a Kindle Fire HD 8, a device I like to call the “Windows 98 of tablets” because, technically, it does work. I use Microsoft OneDrive, and Word automatically saves my work for me in real time. I never have to worry about it. I was able to edit an ongoing book project, again with my Kindle, because I had full access to all of my files and data, right there in the cloud. You don’t have to use OneDrive. There are several other services offering the same results, but you should, you really, really should, set up something to do that for you. Local external drive is okay, but if I’d had that I wouldn’t have been able to use my little (cheap) tablet to do any work. I love storage on the cloud, and if you have anything you care about and don’t want to lose, that’s where you should keep it!

End of lecture. Thanks for reading!

Categories
France

Learning French?

Computer is still out of order. A fix (I hope) is in the works.

This is a short post intended to be good advice for anyone learning French. This is the advice I’ve received that really has turned out to be solid and valid. The first one may surprise you.

  1. Ignore “the basics.” You learned your first language without knowing that syntax, grammar, verbs, nouns, etcetera, existed. Remember that as you go along.
  2. Figure out a routine and stick with it. Every day I take a lesson or three from Duolingo. You don’t need to use Duolingo, but it is free.
  3. Practice, practice, practice! Seriously!
  4. The most important skill to develop is listening to French! How?

  1. French TV and movies! (Tele et films.) Watch in French and use subtitles, in English at first, but as you learn switch to French subtitles! Do this a lot! Netflix has a lot of programming in French, and you can choose subtitles to suit.
  2. If there is a local chapter of l’alliance français, see if they have events held in French. Prior to Covid19 I regularly attended a breakfast meeting at a French restaurant. It helped a great deal!
  3. If possible, visit a country or province that speaks French. Like France, or Quebec, or, no kidding, New Orleans.

There you go. Doing those things worked for me. I speak French, and bit by bit I’m beginning to understand other people. Both useful skills where I live.

Au revoir!

Categories
France

I’ll Be Back!

I have lost the use of my computer due to aging equipment failure. I hope to have it replaced within ten days or so. Until then, thank you for your patience.

Categories
France info

Do French People Like Americans?

Odds are that you know what this is. It is the original, not the one on Las Vegas. Spring 2019 photo by the author.

Short answer: Yes.

Two part longer answer, first as people, then as a country.

More than once I have improved my immediate relationship with a French person by pointing out that I am, in fact, not British, but American. This is not a criticism of British people, but a natural result of the fact that the majority of tourists in France are British, which means that the overwhelming majority of idiot, impolite tourists one encounters are British. The British people I know personally are lovely, and French people will agree with that if you get them to look past the hundred years war years. There are no stereotypical prejudices against Americans that I’ve encountered, although I have met people who really did not appreciate that whole “freedom fries” nonsense twenty years or so ago. (Fries are Belgian in origin, not French at all, which is an indication of what ignorance prior to speaking up can do for you.) French people are very aware of how much American help meant for the outcome of World War II. The only real “complaint” I’ve read (not heard) was the wry comment that “When the Germans invaded, the men went into hiding. When the Americans come we have to hide the women!” Apparently, the liberating GIs were told that French women were desperate for love after the occupation, and also apparently, this was not entirely untrue. They were making love ‘everywhere’ according to accounts from the time.

As a country their attitude is more mixed. All of Europe has viewed the USA as the world leader in security and economic policy since the end of World War Two. NATO is an American invention, after all. America has been seen as providing security for Europe, and as a stable force for good at home. In the past couple of decades, however, this image has suffered greatly. First there was the reaction in the USA to France refusing to back the second gulf war. Freedom Fries? Zut Alors! It didn’t help when it turned out that Saddam had, in fact, no weapons of mass destruction more deadly than his ego. And Europe saw what they interpreted as a bungled effort to resolve remaining issues from that war, including infrastructure repair and installation of a decent government in Iraq.

And then we elected Donald Trump as President. What had been seen as a bastion of security and stability suddenly seemed to fall apart. It would be difficult to overestimate how much damage that administration did to the image of the United States in Europe, including of course France. Well, President Trump said that Europe should handle their own defense, and they are moving to do just that. The talk amongst governments is that Europe is going to have to mind its own house from now own. There is talk of a stronger Union, of a common military, that sort of thing. I recently read that 15% of French citizens trust the US to guide France in dealing with other dations. Twenty years ago a solid majority trusted us. This is not a political column. I’m just reporting, so please no political comments. I’ll just delete them. This is really how France is thinking these days. But the good news is that French people genuinely like, and are grateful to, Americans. France is our oldest ally after all, so that seems well and proper.

Categories
France Life

Some French Weirdness

The Sun King Lives on in the Gates of Versailles (2019 photo)

I visited France a lot before I moved here. Probably about five months of total visitation over the years. We wanted to have access to Europe the way we can access the U.S. in the U.S., and European residence gives you that. My French visa will let me muck about in the entire EU plus several other countries that have signed the “Open Borders” treaty. Open Borders!?! Egads! Down, boy, that’s only between member states. You know, states, such as Alabama and Montana. States of the (European) union. To enter Europe, you must pass some border guards. It was pretty easy with a visa, but I sill had to present myself to them. Then I paid my 200 Euro “welcome to France” tax, and I’m allowed to live here. Poof!

I mention the visitations because I was familiar with a lot of French peculiarities before I moved in. But not all of them. #1, although I was warned repeatedly, is the bureaucracy. You maybe think California is difficult? Amateurs! Here is part of a form one must submit to customs in duplicate in order to import ones’ household goods:

Of course, it is in French. Sort of have to expect that. But the type is very small, and, of all things, green! And this one is simple. There is a seventeen-page form to fill out if you want to remodel your living room. (For the permit, which, again, involves tax assessment of course, same as in the U.S.) We bought a defunct fish and chips shop that is under our bedroom, and we’re converting it to living space. So far, we have the forms (not yet filled out) for altering the facade, which we got from the Mairie (Mayor’s Office.) The interior conversion will require another set down at the Prefecture (sort of a County Administration facility.) We’re probably going to hire a French company to do the work, and they’ll do the forms for us. Yay them!

But that’s not all, folks! You pack your own groceries in Europe (not just France.) They charge for bags — 20 centimes (cents) for a paper bag, up to 2 Euros for a sturdy burlap job. After paying 2 Euros for a shopping bag, I have a tendency to forget to take one in with me when I get groceries. This is a real pain, unless I have a small enough load to carry out without a bag, or I want to shell out an extra 20 cents for a paper bag. Of course, most stores are fine with you walking out the door with your groceries in the cart, as you probably have a coin on deposit in the handle of said cart. The only way to get that coin back is to return it to the cart corral. You plug it into the line, and your coin pops out. Only one store in the area doesn’t use that plan. But they still let you carry your groceries out in their cart, and I’ve never seen anyone fail to return the cart to the corral anyway. Conditioning, I guess.

I’m going to have to take driving school, as Nevada and France have no reciprocity. If I’d stayed in Ohio, I’d be golden. Oh, well. When that adventure starts, I’ll post about it. And other stuff, too. Just keep watching this space for whatever weirdness it occurs to me to report! 🙂

Categories
France language

MANNERS

This is Tyrion “Beagle Butt” le chien being mannerly

I’m putting this post near the top of the blog because it is important. There are people who say that French people are terribly impolite, which is categorically untrue. No one is as polite and helpful as a French person, unless, that is, you fail to be mannerly. In the middle of the 20th century I imagine that not many visitors to France had the same impression. American visitors, anyway. That is because we in America were also expected to be mannerly. To always say “hello,” “please,” “thank-you,” and “goodbye” even to store clerks and others we might consider to be “menials.” After all, our forebears went to some trouble to ditch nobility, which makes everybody deserving of respect, doesn’t it? Well, it does in France to this day.

More than once in Paris I have seen a clerk in an information booth repeat and repeat the word “bonjour!” The person, an American, takes that at a sign to start in with their questions. So, the person in the booth says, “bonjour!” again, and so on until somebody gives up.

The thing is, France is a different country, and has different expectations for behavior. I think it goes back to their revolution (in the same decade in which ours ended, of course, so an American should understand all this, if you think about it.) Having dispatched of a lot of nobility in a most nasty manner, the French were left with a dilemma. How to address one another? After the revolutionaries wore themselves out trying various schemes, it was decided by consensus to address all citizens as if they were nobles! So, you don’t just walk up to the local lord and say, “Hey, Dukey, how’s it hangin’?” No, you say something like “good day, my lord.” And the title for a man in French is “monsieur,” which used to mean “my lord.” The title for a woman is “madame,” which used to mean “my lady.” There is how you address, well, anyone. If the president of France wants to talk to a beggar on the street, he’ll first say, “bonjour” and wait for the greeting to be returned before proceeding. Seriously. Then it’s “S’il vous plait” for please (it means ‘if you please’) and Merci for “thank you.” Goodbye, formally, is “au revoir,” which literally means, “until we see each other again,” and you use it even on a pimple-faced kid selling hot dogs at a carnival, because that’s what you owe everybody: basic respect.

If you do those things outlined in the previous paragraph, I guarantee you that French people will prove to be most friendly and helpful. If you don’t, then you’ll get treated the way you’re treating others, which is always true, but more obvious in this case.

After the “bonjours” by the way, you can ask if they speak English. In tourist areas, it’s likely that a lot of people do. Failing that, I’d suggest a translation program on a smartphone. Heck, even Google Translate can be useful in a pinch. And, as I said in my previous post, try a little French, especially the polite words. People always appreciate your effort!

Categories
France language

Speaking Frankly

See what I did there? Frankly?? I kill me!!! Image is public domain.

I want this blog to be an ongoing discussion/revelation about France, the United States, customs, facts versus rumors, and other things, of course including language. The Frankish language started out as a German dialect, you know, but French is what’s left of it. French is mostly a Latin dialect now (whether Latin died is another discussion entirely) but it is still ten percent Frankish. Words like “Gros” meaning large are just like German! Boy, howdy, huh? I hope to write about French as a language in the future, but for this post, I’m just talking about whether or not they speak French in France. After all, you hear a lot of people say that “they almost all speak English!” Yeah? Here’s a heads up:

THEY SPEAK FRENCH IN FRANCE!

And not everybody here speaks English. And when they do, I find that a lot of times my French, lousy as I know it to be, is better than their English. (I may write about English also, because I pity anyone trying to learn it.) What I’m about to write applies primarily to British, nay, English people. First, let me say that the English people I know are perfectly lovely, and they speak French probably better than I do! That said, there are English people who have lived in France for twenty years (they got special residency status after Brexit so they can stay as long as they wish) and still do not speak any French! And tourists who expect that because they’re spending money in France, French people should speak English! Quoi? Folks, my attitude now is Si j’habite en france, je parle français. This blog is in American English, so here: If I live in France, I speak French. It’s basic courtesy to my hosts. The French actually use a lot of English words, badly from an anglophone point of view. Camping is a place, for example, and so is parking. le camping et le parking. But to ask them to know English just because you spend some money here? Seriously? Plenty of Latino folks spend money in the United States. Do we owe them our speaking Spanish? Sauce for the goose, sauce for the gander, right?

So, my advice, should you decide to travel to a French speaking country (there are lots of them, some very close to the USA), is to learn enough French to at least be polite. I’ll write a post all about being polite, for now, trust me, you need to be. That is, how to say hello, good-bye, please, and thank-you. Even for people who do speak English, it warms their hearts to hear somebody giving their language a try. You don’t have to be good at it. And, for the love of anything at all, ignore the spelling, but give it a try. It’s amazing how much easier life as a tourist in France becomes for those who speak at least the bare minimum of the local language.

Come to think of it, that applies to any non-English speaking place you visit. A few words of courtesy are not difficult to learn. Do learn them, and you’ll be glad you did!

Okay, end of rant/lecture. I hope this finds you well, and that you find this at least a bit useful. I’ll be back with more observations, in more detail I hope, almost before you know it!

Au revoir!

Categories
France info

Home Again

This grows in my back yard

I left home on May 9th 2023, and arrived home on May 10th, 2023. I left Paradise Nevada, and arrived in Lizant, Vienne. Different climate, different culture, and I’m lucky my French finally caught hold of my brain, because that’s what they speak around these parts. Faithful readers, both of you (and I’m not kidding) noticed that I’ve been pretty lazy with this blog. I may be about to change that. I’m thinking of making this into a blog about moving to France at 73 years old, the mistakes I’ve made, the good decisions, too. I also may re-activate (start posting to again) my YouTube channel called “A Grumpy American Moves to France.” Along the same thematic lines. You can comment to let me know what you think of those ideas if you want. If you’ve never commented before I have to approve your comments, but once I approve one, you’re free to comment whenever you wish.

That’s this post. All news, not so entertaining. But useful, right? Until next time, my friends!