1000 Years of Annoying the French

I read an article today about Stephan Clarke's new book, 1000 Years of Annoying the French. He said that, "being an expat in Paris can sometimes feel like 'being a lobster in a Breton chef's kitchen.'" Wow, can I ever relate to that. Sometimes it can be very discouraging when people don't even try to understand you in French or are rude. I hate when they switch to English too. However, the majority of the time they are EXTREMELY nice, contrary to Parisian stereotypes.

One interview question in particular stood out to me:

How would you describe the typical French attitude to British people who move to France?

It all depends on whether the British person says "bonjour" or not. If they don't, the French think they're cold, aloof, snobbish and "typiquement anglais". But if they just say the magic word at the start of each conversation, the French love them...It's the only way to be accepted by the French, who prize politeness above all else. It's also wise to refrain from using sentences like "back in the UK, we do it this way" and "but I'm a customer, you HAVE to serve me."

This absolutely rings true for Americans in Paris too. So many Americans come here thinking that the French are cold, snobby, rude, etc., without the least bit of concern for what is rude in the culture that they are visiting. If I had a nickel for every time I heard an American say something along the lines of, "You're in America. Speak English!" I'd have a flight home for Christmas, no problem.

In other news, I had a really fun weekend staying with and catching up with an old friend from high school, Flo. We went to Nuit Blanche, an all night festival where most of the sights are open for free. We got to go to Notre Dame for free. The arched ceilings and the peacful quiet inside always move me.

Speaking of moving, I moved into my apartment last night!! That's right, I stayed in four homes in two weeks, and now finally I'm in my very own little chambre de bonne. It's small (10m squared). They used to be used for maids of wealthy families below to live in. I spent my first evening unpacking EVERYTHING I have and organizing it. Sandra provided everything I need (sheets, towels, utensils, plates, cups, etc.) I am the only one who really lives on the floor, everything else is just an office. I opened my window and peeked out, and was thrilled to discover that I have a stellar view of the Eiffel Tower lit up at night. I kept poking my head out on the hour, when it sparkles for ten minutes. This was worth the wait.

Making Fun of the French

By LEAH HYSLOP

October 5, 2010

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