Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Distinguished French - Blog 2

So, it may surprise some of you to hear this but France isn't like the United States. No, really. It isn't. The French may look like us, (well, very well-dressed versions of us) but they are not. Now, some may argue that looking like us but not truly being us is a willful deception by the French; that these outward similarities are just a ploy to achieve some nefarious French objective. I must respectfully disagree: the similarities may be beguiling at first but upon closer inspection the differences between Americans and French are glaring at best. Plus, the French are known for their snobbery and cheese, not their evil genius.

Allow me to list some of the "deceptive" similarities and then point out the irreconcilable differences:

1 - Dress.
Similarity: On the street the French do not wear any type of customary dress or regalia found in other countries and cultures - i.e. no sarongs, kimonos, wooden shoes that look like little boats, hanboks, lederhosen, burkhas (generally), parkas (generally), berets, tall fur hats, leather pants, articles of clothing with the Canadian flag on them, or anything else that may clue one in that they are in a foreign country.

Difference: They are better dressed in general. That is to say there are no tee shirts with malnourished waifs wrapped in tattered French flags emblazoned across the front, I "Heart" NY tee shirts, Hard Rock Cafe tee shirts, or tee shirts of any kind. Seriously - so many of them look like they've just come from the latest fashion show in Paris. There are lots of slacks, blazers and sweater for the men. If the temperature drops below 71 every male has to wear like 5 layers of designer clothing. The women are always wearing like 5 layers of designer clothing.

2 - Food
Similarity: They eat food. They have restaurants. They even have McDonald's, Pizza Hut and Subway. They eat sandwiches on real live "French" bread. They have croissants, too. Go figure.

Difference: Everything. Like, when you go into a restaurant and order a pizza you can't even read the menu. And then, once you pick one that sounds pretty good it's still messed up. For example, I chose a pizza that had "champignong" or something (even though they spelled it wrong, I thought "champion" pizza had to be the best), "ananas" (I knew this hot girl in high school named Anna), and "jambon. " I was the least sure about this - I know that "bon" means "good" (so "bonbons" are literally "good-goods," only too true) and I guessed "jam" mean either a fruit-based paste or a hot new song. I figured I would get like a little plastic tub of jelly or a demo tape or something. But guess what? When the pizza came there were no champions, hot girls or groovy beats. NOPE! There were mushrooms, pineapple and ham! While being disappointed at first (mostly by the lack of attractive females associated with my pizza) I decided to make the best of it. Until I noticed what was in the middle of my pizza: a big ol', round ol', disgusting ol', half-cooked ol' sunny-side up EGG. Yup. AN EGG. ON PIZZA. I've since learned they put eggs on everything. I know, I know. I can't figure it out either. Ruin a perfectly good champion, hot girl and dance remix pizza with an egg. But I have learned to order thing without eggs - "sans oeuf," which sounds like "sands" and then like someone punched you in the gut - ooooohhfff. Eating pizza with egg on it FEELS like someone punched you in the gut so I guess it makes some sense.

3 - Work Ethic/Customer Service
Similarities: People have jobs. People own businesses (like revolting pizza shops). There are trams, busses, trains, planes and automobiles (but every little John Candy so I guess even the French get some things right). They have clothing and shoe shops and cafes and book stores and sex shops and topless bars (called cabarets) and everything.

Differences: A 35-hour work week. No kidding. That's all anyone over here works. Now, that sounds great as an employee but as a customer, it blows. For instance, everything is shut up nice and tight on Sunday. Ethically I agree with this 100%. Due to my religious persuasion I was not impacted by this in the least but many of my classmates were shocked and indignant about it. But it's not just Sunday. France has declared most of every Wednesday as a national holiday. On Wednesday there is no school. After like 11 AM everything else pretty much closes and the French just hang around. Some restaurants are open but since the entire rest of the country doesn't have to work the few businesses that are open are totally crowded. And speaking of restaurants, they are pretty messed up, too. Now, I expect that unless you're at IHOP or Denny's one should expect that breakfast items are only served until a certain time. I have also come to accept that "lunch deals" expire after like 2 or 3 PM but the portions at dinner are larger so I don't mind paying a little more. But here, things are a total mess. You can't get ANY food after 2. None. No one will serve you. All the regular businesses close at somewhere between 11:30 AM and 2 PM and they go home for lunch. And after 2 PM no restaurant will serve you again until like 7 PM at the earliest. No kidding. You just can't get service. And if you are bold enough to enter a restaurant and muster up the audacity to ask for a seat or a menu the French will just stare incredulously at you. Like they can't wrap their minds around the fact that the economy works between 2 and 7 PM or that people may get hungry during the five-hour gap of food service. The only place that is open during the afternoon and on Wednesdays? McDonald's. Yup. And it's a MAD HOUSE. Clearly there is a demand for food on Wednesday and in the afternoon as it takes about 35 minutes to get a chicken sandwich due to the stampede of ravenous French people queued out the door of "Mac Dough's." I just don't get it.

4 - Hygiene
Similarities: Shaving of the legs and pits of the women. That's it.

Differences: Everything else. The French don't seem to see the purpose of a daily shower. Perhaps it's because they are so eco-friendly and think it's a waste of perfectly good water. Perhaps it's because they have no shower curtains - at least I know they don't in any hotels I’ve stayed at so far (you kind of have to sit/squat in the tub and try not to hose down the entire room...). Or perhaps they still think that bathing more then one a week will expose their bodies to germs or the Plague or some other medieval farce. All I know is there is some serious BO up in here. And by "here" I mean "France" and not my hotel. Sometimes it's so bad that when the middle-age men walk by, my classmates literally throw away their food. And often on the trams my vision is blurred by the "onion" induced tears streaming down my face. Eww. I know that France is the place credited with cologne and "L'Oreal" and probably "Tres Emmes." I guess the French are more into research and export and not so much about actually using these products.

In conclusion, while the French may at first glance seem to be very similar to us, they are, in fact, as odd and incomprehensible as any real and full-blown foreign culture, like the Chinese or Klingons. But their croissants are heavenly. I swear I've eaten twice my body weight in butter since I've been here. Consequently, my body weight has nearly doubled; which has resulted in greater butter/croissant intake to keep the ratio of butter-to-body-mass up to two-to-one...mmmm...croissant...mmmm....body mass...

8 comments:

Dawnell said...

I can't wait until you come back reeking of BO, weighing 250 pounds of croissant and wearing 5 layers, all stinky, of designer clothing, showing that you have truly gone native. We'll go out to eat and talk about your experiences, but not between the hours of 2:00 and 7:00.

Unknown said...

Okay, I posted my comment to the first ever blog so it won't make much sense there, but check it out.

Love,
Momma

Babe in Boysland said...

HAHAHA! When we open "Crazy Pete's Pizza", let's make sure we have champions, hot girls, and dance remixes on the menu, k? But certainly NOT eggs...well, maybe at the salad bar.

skcoe said...

Will you smuggle home some of those authentic croissants for me? I can practically smell them from here... YUM!

(Or just ship them. I'm sure they'll hold up much better than the TORTILLA you sent me on your mission...remember that?)

Nick and Laura said...

Oh, how I have missed you. I've not been able to get my fix of your witty and sometimes subtle (sometimes not so subtle) snotty (hilarious) views on things. I don't realize how much I need it until I get that rare shot in the arm of it and then... ahhh! I'm feel much better!

Rick said...

I am like some amazing drug...

skcoe said...

You really TRULY are. You have no idea. And I didn't realize it either until you moved to freaking Duh-Moyne...

Wendy Lady said...

My mother is aghast to think that we have French roots. She hates the French and hated visiting France (for the few hours she spent there). Of course, our ancestors were smart enough to escape the country back in 1686 before they were imprisoned --- or worse --- for exercising freedom of religion. I must say I'm pretty proud to have descended from French Huguenots. They were smart enough to leave the country!

Sounds like you have had quite an education!