1. to care for se soucier de
2. to draw attention attirer l'attention
3. to fulfill respecter
4. to guide guider
5. to limit limiter
6. to obey obéir
7. to promise promettre
8. to retain conserver
9. to set aside réserver
10. to donate faire don de
11. to fast jeûner
12. to give, to provide donner
13. to include comprendre
14. to meet needs répondre aux besoins
15. to pray prier
16. to receive recevoir
17. to save sauver
18. bone un os
19. flesh la chair
20. sin le péché
21. succeeded réussi
22. to face faire face á
23. to suffer souffrir
24. trial une épreuve
25. burden un fardeau
January 19, 2012
January 11, 2012
IAS 380R Birthday Party
Large Cultural Proof
I was invited to an overnight birthday party for Sarah, a girl in the branch, who was celebrating her 20th birthday. It was only the second time I was the only English speaker at a social event, the first being Adélie’s raclette party. Sarah had invited other friends from church, none of which were in our branch because Sarah and I are the only Jeunes Adultes in the Poitiers Branch. Her other friends came from as far as Rennes to celebrate and spend the night. There were nine of us total, including her younger sister. We played games, ate elaborately presented food, and went to church together the next morning.
Sarah and her family don’t live in Poitiers, but in Châtellerault, a small town in the country. From Poitiers centre, it’s 30 minutes by car and a short 15 minute trip by train. I arrived at the train station at the same time as two other girls, and Sarah’s mom was there to get us. Their house was small and humble, but very cozy, with lots of portraits of children on the walls, stone floors with rugs, heavy wood furniture and china cabinet. They had set up a table with a tablecloth and fruit juices and chocolate candy. However the very first thing that happened when we entered the house was that Sarah’s mom went to search for some slippers for each of us to borrow. Since she has mostly daughters, she apologized to the boys who were already there that she didn’t have slippers for them. It was then that I began to learn the importance of slippers in French culture. Sarah had spent what must’ve been hours preparing a scavenger hunt, with clues and riddles leading to “missing pearls” hidden all over the house. I wasn’t much help with this, and occasionally Sarah would lead the group in collectively translating or explaining some of the clues to me. There were 20 some pearls, so 20 some clues as well, and the hunt took us several hours. Finally we lined up all the clues on the floor to decode a secret message. We never actually got around to decoding it, however, because I think at this point people were losing interest. So next we played a very active game of charades. Sometimes I needed help with the word I was supposed to act out. Obviously if you don’t know the word, you can’t very well act it out....
We continued to play games, sing karaoke, and talk for a while Sarah’s mom finished with dinner. At around 8:00 her mom brought out trays and trays of snack-like foods, including chips, bruschetta with cheese, meat, eggs, or olives, pizza cut into squares, etc. All of this was followed by a large salmon paté and more horderves. The grand finale was a giant chocolate cake with “Joyeuse Anniversaire, Sarah!” written on the top. We turned the lights off, sang, and Sarah blew out enormous candles with fat, sparkling, whistling flames. Sarah’s mom served up enormous portions of the cake, so rich and huge that I thought I might get quite sick if I finished it. I’ve noticed that the French seem to have an extremely high tolerance for rich foods when it comes to celebrating or lunchtime. Almost all of the girls finished the cake, but there were a couple, like me, who set it down for 30 minutes or so and then finished it on round II.
It was interesting being the only anglophone at a relatively long lasting social event. There were times where I was quite frustrated or embarrassed that I couldn’t participate more in the games or help more with the scavenger hunt, but it’s true that the whole time I was fascinated by being in a French family’s old stone house eating their special celebration food and wearing their slippers. But the more I learn about France and the world, the more I realize how prominent English is even outside of English speaking countries. For example, about half of the songs for the karaoke were in English, at which time they would throw me a microphone and tell me to help them. I also had a long conversation with someone about books and movies, most of which happened to be originally written or scripted in English.
This party didn't differ in lots of ways from a typical birthday party in the US; there was still games, food, decorations, presents, and cake. However there were enough differences to be very interesting and culturally enlightening. I don't think in America we would find very many 20 year old birthday celebrations with salmon paté, capers, and slippers distributed to all the guests. What a lovely party it was, and all our feet stayed nice and warm!
I was invited to an overnight birthday party for Sarah, a girl in the branch, who was celebrating her 20th birthday. It was only the second time I was the only English speaker at a social event, the first being Adélie’s raclette party. Sarah had invited other friends from church, none of which were in our branch because Sarah and I are the only Jeunes Adultes in the Poitiers Branch. Her other friends came from as far as Rennes to celebrate and spend the night. There were nine of us total, including her younger sister. We played games, ate elaborately presented food, and went to church together the next morning.
Sarah and her family don’t live in Poitiers, but in Châtellerault, a small town in the country. From Poitiers centre, it’s 30 minutes by car and a short 15 minute trip by train. I arrived at the train station at the same time as two other girls, and Sarah’s mom was there to get us. Their house was small and humble, but very cozy, with lots of portraits of children on the walls, stone floors with rugs, heavy wood furniture and china cabinet. They had set up a table with a tablecloth and fruit juices and chocolate candy. However the very first thing that happened when we entered the house was that Sarah’s mom went to search for some slippers for each of us to borrow. Since she has mostly daughters, she apologized to the boys who were already there that she didn’t have slippers for them. It was then that I began to learn the importance of slippers in French culture. Sarah had spent what must’ve been hours preparing a scavenger hunt, with clues and riddles leading to “missing pearls” hidden all over the house. I wasn’t much help with this, and occasionally Sarah would lead the group in collectively translating or explaining some of the clues to me. There were 20 some pearls, so 20 some clues as well, and the hunt took us several hours. Finally we lined up all the clues on the floor to decode a secret message. We never actually got around to decoding it, however, because I think at this point people were losing interest. So next we played a very active game of charades. Sometimes I needed help with the word I was supposed to act out. Obviously if you don’t know the word, you can’t very well act it out....
We continued to play games, sing karaoke, and talk for a while Sarah’s mom finished with dinner. At around 8:00 her mom brought out trays and trays of snack-like foods, including chips, bruschetta with cheese, meat, eggs, or olives, pizza cut into squares, etc. All of this was followed by a large salmon paté and more horderves. The grand finale was a giant chocolate cake with “Joyeuse Anniversaire, Sarah!” written on the top. We turned the lights off, sang, and Sarah blew out enormous candles with fat, sparkling, whistling flames. Sarah’s mom served up enormous portions of the cake, so rich and huge that I thought I might get quite sick if I finished it. I’ve noticed that the French seem to have an extremely high tolerance for rich foods when it comes to celebrating or lunchtime. Almost all of the girls finished the cake, but there were a couple, like me, who set it down for 30 minutes or so and then finished it on round II.
It was interesting being the only anglophone at a relatively long lasting social event. There were times where I was quite frustrated or embarrassed that I couldn’t participate more in the games or help more with the scavenger hunt, but it’s true that the whole time I was fascinated by being in a French family’s old stone house eating their special celebration food and wearing their slippers. But the more I learn about France and the world, the more I realize how prominent English is even outside of English speaking countries. For example, about half of the songs for the karaoke were in English, at which time they would throw me a microphone and tell me to help them. I also had a long conversation with someone about books and movies, most of which happened to be originally written or scripted in English.
This party didn't differ in lots of ways from a typical birthday party in the US; there was still games, food, decorations, presents, and cake. However there were enough differences to be very interesting and culturally enlightening. I don't think in America we would find very many 20 year old birthday celebrations with salmon paté, capers, and slippers distributed to all the guests. What a lovely party it was, and all our feet stayed nice and warm!
December 27, 2011
IAS 380R Midnight Mass in Paris
Small Cultural Proof
A day
doesn't get much better than this. Christmas Eve in Paris was lovely.
Santons are a big
deal in France. They're handmade and painted clay figures that make a
Christmas village. You don't just have the manger and carolers. There's
the whole lot: the baker, the butcher, the cheese man, the doctor, the
gypsies, the teacher, the washerwoman, the blacksmith. The list goes on.
Because they're so expensive they're often given as gifts.
I
once heard a man at a Christmas market ask if they had any doctors
left. The woman said, "No, we're all out of doctors." He was kind of
upset and took off to continue the hunt. I guess someone was sick.
The Gallaries Lafayette theme this year was Rock and Roll.
We
got there earlier, around 9pm, so what we saw was not technically
Midnight Mass, but the presentation of baby Jesus. In France, baby Jesus
does not appear in the nativity scene until Christmas Eve. So it's a
big deal when he appears. The bishop in Notre Dame read some
announcements and scriptures, then brought out the most enormous baby
Jesus I've ever seen. Then he took the baby, holding him high above his
head, and walked around, kind of by the North Transept and placed the
baby in the crèche. Would've gotten a picture if I could've lifted my
arms. But it was really neat and the people followed him around to
watch.
Then everyone either waits for real midnight
mass, or goes home and puts their own baby Jesus in the crèche. Most
people left and a new flood came in. The whole process took less than an
hour. That's plenty of religion to last until next year!
However, after the more traditional French family eats a huge wonderful dinner, it's time for the Yule Log! This was strike two for the Americans. We forgot to get the Yule Log. HOW can anyone forget the Yule Log, you ask? Erm....I don't know. And believe me, we were sorely disappointed in ourselves. We knew all the bakeries would close early. So we just...forgot. I can't be held responsible. Far too many sparkly things around. Anyway, after we would've put the baby Jesus that we didn't have in our chèche, we would've eaten our Yule Log. The following picture is what my mother insisted on calling a Yule Log. I know. It's embarrassing. Tasted delicious, nonetheless. What can we say? We're American. We're innovative and creative and definitely know how to think outside the box and get a job done. Hello Yule Log. (Yes, that is pistachio ice cream that you see.)
December 10, 2011
FR 311R
This morning I met up with M. et Mme Bourbon, the elderly couple who runs the bed and breakfast where I stayed during my first 9 days in la Vienne. I hadn't seen them since moving into my apartment, but we became friends during that time of apartment and cell phone hunting, so it was so good to visit with them today. They came in for the market at Notre Dame which is the best place to buy fresh fruits, vegetables, bread, meat, flowers, etc. We met up and walked to a café where we got hot drinks and patisseries for breakfast. M. Bourbon said that my French had gotten much better since we last met and it was music to my ears.
We talked about many things, most of which will be applicable to the paper I need to write on the history of Poitiers. (Note: in French, the word for "history" and the word for "story" are the same: "l'histoire.") I asked them about the history of Poitiers and the Vienne, and they responded with enthusiasm about Joan of Arc, Poitiers' roman churches and the architecture, (Notre Dame de Paris is Gothic), the oldest and biggest nearby cities, which ones have good churches and roman ruins and which ones don't. There's a roman bath and amphitheater out by where they live, 20 minutes in the country. Also, they told me a story of when Poitiers was under attack from the English and someone snuck into Notre Dame to ring the bells and warn the people so everyone could escape. They said there are lots of stories like that which I made a note to research. I told them I recently traveled to Tours and La Rochelle. They said Tours is very modern because most of it was destroyed during the war and rebuilt. Angers, La Rochelle, and Limoges however, were not destroyed and therefor have a more classic, older look like Poitiers.
We also talked about the more modern gems of Poitiers: apparently there's a little shop that sells very nice, sturdy umbrellas made in the region. They told me which patisserie shop sells the best macaroons, which are a specialty of la Vienne. We talked about book and hat stores, orchestra, my students, and the Christmas market. Apparently Poitiers, which I think is so beautiful now with the lights, trees, and stables filled with live animals, is normally even more gorgeous. Previous years they've had more lights in more colors, but this year most of the lights are blue because it's more economical. M. and Mme Bourbon seemed to think it was not worth sacrificing the beautiful colored lights for economical purposes, and expressed their disappointment about the mediocre light displays this year. Also, there's usually an ice skating rink at Hotêl de Ville, which I was very disappointed to hear is not happening this year. We talked about other Christmas markets in other cities. Some are better than others. Some have colored little houses, but some, like in Tours, have houses made of wood. Blue lights, colored or wooden houses, live camels, this is all quite a lot more glamorous and magical than Christmases chez-moi, ice skating rink or not.
We talked about many things, most of which will be applicable to the paper I need to write on the history of Poitiers. (Note: in French, the word for "history" and the word for "story" are the same: "l'histoire.") I asked them about the history of Poitiers and the Vienne, and they responded with enthusiasm about Joan of Arc, Poitiers' roman churches and the architecture, (Notre Dame de Paris is Gothic), the oldest and biggest nearby cities, which ones have good churches and roman ruins and which ones don't. There's a roman bath and amphitheater out by where they live, 20 minutes in the country. Also, they told me a story of when Poitiers was under attack from the English and someone snuck into Notre Dame to ring the bells and warn the people so everyone could escape. They said there are lots of stories like that which I made a note to research. I told them I recently traveled to Tours and La Rochelle. They said Tours is very modern because most of it was destroyed during the war and rebuilt. Angers, La Rochelle, and Limoges however, were not destroyed and therefor have a more classic, older look like Poitiers.
We also talked about the more modern gems of Poitiers: apparently there's a little shop that sells very nice, sturdy umbrellas made in the region. They told me which patisserie shop sells the best macaroons, which are a specialty of la Vienne. We talked about book and hat stores, orchestra, my students, and the Christmas market. Apparently Poitiers, which I think is so beautiful now with the lights, trees, and stables filled with live animals, is normally even more gorgeous. Previous years they've had more lights in more colors, but this year most of the lights are blue because it's more economical. M. and Mme Bourbon seemed to think it was not worth sacrificing the beautiful colored lights for economical purposes, and expressed their disappointment about the mediocre light displays this year. Also, there's usually an ice skating rink at Hotêl de Ville, which I was very disappointed to hear is not happening this year. We talked about other Christmas markets in other cities. Some are better than others. Some have colored little houses, but some, like in Tours, have houses made of wood. Blue lights, colored or wooden houses, live camels, this is all quite a lot more glamorous and magical than Christmases chez-moi, ice skating rink or not.
November 28, 2011
IAS 380R Les Voisins
Large Cultural Proof
My brother and I were invited to a party with the other people who live in our building. The building has one apartment per floor with 4 floors total. Right below us live a young, unmarried couple, right below them live another young, unmarried couple. And on the first floor I believe there lives a young single girl, but she wasn't at the party and I've never actually seen her. We were casually invited to the party for that weekend one day when we were coming or going from the apartment. They told us we would have light refreshments and drinks and were to come around their apartment at 20h on Friday night. My brother and I had no idea what common courtesy permitted us to bring. Seeing as we are in France, we figured we couldn't go wrong with a baguette and some brie. When we got to the party and entered their apartment, I was surprised to see that the refreshments laid out on the table looked much more American than our baguette and cheese, and I instantly felt a little awkward for bringing it along. But they were of course polite and grateful, and after we snacked on chips, pretzels, and nuts we ate the bread and cheese. Their apartment was of course almost the same layout as ours, except they had one big bedroom and an office space instead of two smaller bedrooms. Their furniture was very modern; a lot of it looked like it could've been from IKEA. They had a huge flat screen tv with mtv, a washer and dryer, and art and posters hanging on the wall. It was all very chic and professional looking.
Everyone at the party was aged between 20 and 22, and we all got along quite well together and I found myself wishing we had gotten to know them earlier. We talked about schooling; one of the guys was done with school and all three of the others were still students. Two of them were studying tourism, which is obviously a huge industry in France. The guys spoke English better than the girls, but collectively they had a good time trying to communicate with my brother, who speaks very, very little French. We talked about America, which is so glamorous in their eyes. We talked about music and books and technology. After it started to get late, the conversation broke into two groups; the girls on the couch and the guys on the chairs, until the guys left to go do I don't know what on the street. Smoke maybe? Of the four people, 3 of them are smokers. That explains why our bathroom always smells of smoke; it's right above the office space where Violette sends Antoine when he wants to smoke. With just the girls, we talked about all of our studies, their relationships. (The other two girls didn't know each other before this night either.) One couple has been together for 3 years and just moved in together less than a year ago, and the other couple has been dating for 6 years and moved in together almost 2 years ago. That would've made them about 18 or 19 years old at the time. I asked if she thought they would ever get married, and she said she thinks so, eventually. But that seems to always be how it is here; what's the hurry? And with some people they don't even think it's worth the bother at all. Living together unmarried has become so socially acceptable that marriage has no meaning, and is even sometimes scoffed at for being old fashioned or giving in to ancient social pressures.
The party actually went on later than I cared for it to. We had a fabulous time visiting and speaking French and eating, but I didn't get home until 3am. That's a 7 hour party. We actually ended up going to the other couple's apartment because everyone wanted to see it too, and then at that point they had to offer drinks and snacks as well. Finally I just had to announce that I needed to go to bed. My door was just right there, after all. I got the impression they wanted to see our apartment too; I think they were especially curious to see what the Americans' apartments would look like, but at 3am I wasn't super willing to invite them up, and thought I'll just invite them over another time. I'm sure they'll be disappointed; we are seriously lacking in stars and stripes decor. Maybe we'll have to find an Uncle Sam poster before that time!
My brother and I were invited to a party with the other people who live in our building. The building has one apartment per floor with 4 floors total. Right below us live a young, unmarried couple, right below them live another young, unmarried couple. And on the first floor I believe there lives a young single girl, but she wasn't at the party and I've never actually seen her. We were casually invited to the party for that weekend one day when we were coming or going from the apartment. They told us we would have light refreshments and drinks and were to come around their apartment at 20h on Friday night. My brother and I had no idea what common courtesy permitted us to bring. Seeing as we are in France, we figured we couldn't go wrong with a baguette and some brie. When we got to the party and entered their apartment, I was surprised to see that the refreshments laid out on the table looked much more American than our baguette and cheese, and I instantly felt a little awkward for bringing it along. But they were of course polite and grateful, and after we snacked on chips, pretzels, and nuts we ate the bread and cheese. Their apartment was of course almost the same layout as ours, except they had one big bedroom and an office space instead of two smaller bedrooms. Their furniture was very modern; a lot of it looked like it could've been from IKEA. They had a huge flat screen tv with mtv, a washer and dryer, and art and posters hanging on the wall. It was all very chic and professional looking.
Everyone at the party was aged between 20 and 22, and we all got along quite well together and I found myself wishing we had gotten to know them earlier. We talked about schooling; one of the guys was done with school and all three of the others were still students. Two of them were studying tourism, which is obviously a huge industry in France. The guys spoke English better than the girls, but collectively they had a good time trying to communicate with my brother, who speaks very, very little French. We talked about America, which is so glamorous in their eyes. We talked about music and books and technology. After it started to get late, the conversation broke into two groups; the girls on the couch and the guys on the chairs, until the guys left to go do I don't know what on the street. Smoke maybe? Of the four people, 3 of them are smokers. That explains why our bathroom always smells of smoke; it's right above the office space where Violette sends Antoine when he wants to smoke. With just the girls, we talked about all of our studies, their relationships. (The other two girls didn't know each other before this night either.) One couple has been together for 3 years and just moved in together less than a year ago, and the other couple has been dating for 6 years and moved in together almost 2 years ago. That would've made them about 18 or 19 years old at the time. I asked if she thought they would ever get married, and she said she thinks so, eventually. But that seems to always be how it is here; what's the hurry? And with some people they don't even think it's worth the bother at all. Living together unmarried has become so socially acceptable that marriage has no meaning, and is even sometimes scoffed at for being old fashioned or giving in to ancient social pressures.
The party actually went on later than I cared for it to. We had a fabulous time visiting and speaking French and eating, but I didn't get home until 3am. That's a 7 hour party. We actually ended up going to the other couple's apartment because everyone wanted to see it too, and then at that point they had to offer drinks and snacks as well. Finally I just had to announce that I needed to go to bed. My door was just right there, after all. I got the impression they wanted to see our apartment too; I think they were especially curious to see what the Americans' apartments would look like, but at 3am I wasn't super willing to invite them up, and thought I'll just invite them over another time. I'm sure they'll be disappointed; we are seriously lacking in stars and stripes decor. Maybe we'll have to find an Uncle Sam poster before that time!
November 25, 2011
FR 311 Vocabulaire 2
1. amount une somme
2. available accessible3. beverage la boisson
4. care le soin
5. commandment un commandement
6. fasting le jeûne
7. generous généreux
8. meal un repas
9. needy les nécessiteux
10. poor pauvre
11. private privé
12. purpose le but
13. spiritual spirituel
14. testimony un témoignage
15. to bear testimony rendre témoignage
16. baptismal covenants les alliances de baptême
17. blessing une bénédiction
18. consecutive consécutif
19. cost le prix
20. fast offering une offrande de jeûne
21. prayer une prière
22. pure pur
23. remission of sins la rémission des péchés
24. specific précis
25. to allow permettre
26. to call appeler
November 14, 2011
petits trucs de la culture
Here we go: the stereotypes. This is what everyone wants to know, right? Are the stereotypes about the French true?
I googled "American stereotypes about the French." Here are the most reoccurring themes which I have either confirmed or declared myth:
4. They're lazy.
1. The French are rude.
If I can emphasize one thing, it is that this statement is most definitely false. Yes, I have met a few unpleasant fellows who don't like Americans, are resentful of American influence and prevalence in France and come across as rude. But these people are few and far between. And, in their defense, it's almost like they are like that because of some deep rooted nationalistic desire to keep French culture alive. American culture may seem threatening when you love your country, your language, your people, and cheese and you turn on the radio to American music and hear the youth speaking English words. You would wonder what's going to happen to the cheese and wine and beautiful words in a few hundred more years. Alright, maybe I'm being a tad sarcastic, but really, I applaud them for wanting to preserve their culture. After all, I am making it my life work to study them and this land and try to understand that culture. I hate the thought of it not being around in the future because we're all speaking English or Spanish or Chinese. The French may be stiff about some things, but if they have a real reason for getting to know you, some association other than buying train tickets or a taxi, they will welcome you with open arms as fast as you will let them. I can think of countless examples. The elderly couple at the bed and breakfast when I first got to France. The old lady who is my stand partner at orchestra. The orchestra conductor. The little kids I teach. Their parents who drive me from school to school. Virtually everyone at church. No, the French are not rude. "The French are like a baguette. Hard on the outside, soft on the inside." They just want to preserve their culture. That's all. So if you waltz into a country sporting a camera, white sneakers, talking about world powers, Apple computers, and McDonald's and wondering loudly why nobody speaks English to you, you probably won't have the greatest reception anywhere, let alone in France.
One more little thing, remember my students with their white-out pens and perfect handwriting? They are little perfectionists. Little perfectionists grow up to be big perfectionists. Most French speak some English, yes. But most French don't speak perfect English. It's very hard for them to butcher a foreign language in front of a stranger. Even the teachers I work with won't speak English around me, and if they must say one or two words, they apologize profusely for how awful their English is. It's a matter of pride, cultural pride or pride of not wanting to embarrass themselves. It is required that all students learn English in school, even when their teachers aren't fully qualified to teach it. It's a very sensitive subject for them because they know they aren't qualified, and yet they are required by law to teach it anyway. If you ever visit France, please try to remember that if they hadn't been so stubborn about preserving their language and culture, the France you visit today would be much different than it actually is. So when they act like they don't speak English, but you know they speak better English than your French, just try to appreciate the rich culture around you that they've worked so hard to preserve in its purest form. And enjoy some cheese :)
5. They're all thin.
This one is mostly true. When we first got to Paris, Kyle said, "Where did all these models come from that they let walk around being beautiful and pretending to be normal people?" The girls like to say they're fat though, which makes me chortle. That must be an international girl thing. After I got back from Spain, one of the teachers I work with asked me if I thought the Spanish are in good shape [compared to the French]. I'm pretty sure I know what she wanted me to say haha. But she forgot to take into consideration that I'm American. We eat cheeseburgers three meals a day and ask for fries on the side. I hesitated, so she thought I didn't understand her question and rephrased it. I wanted to say, "Yes, they're healthy. And they look like they could handle a strong wind without being blown away, unlike another nationality I can think of." But I'm pretty sure that answer wouldn't have satisfied.4. They're lazy.
I would most certainly not say that the French are lazy. I teach several classes full of 9 and 10 year-old perfectionists who whip out their white-out at the smallest error and roll their eyes at me when I skip a line or give them new directions after they've begun something. However, I have to confess that the construction on our street was supposed to be finished in August... Also, I have been waiting for someone to come hook up my internet for nearly six weeks. There's always some random problem. They need to call so and so to come look at this jack or that chord. I didn't answer my phone when they called once, because I couldn't find it in my purse in time. So even though I called right back they have to start all over now and send out the FIRST guy, not the second. So the first guy can tell me the same thing he told me last time: that he needs guys number two to come look. I need to be in my apartment ready, every day, with my phone in case they call and want to come up. My favorite is when they tell me to call from a land line, which I don't have because it comes with the internet, which I most definitely don't have. Yeah. I wouldn't say lazy. Disorganized yes, but not lazy. It's just a different way of life. A different list of priorities. Every meal is savored and enjoyed with loved ones and a table cloth. Every holiday thoroughly celebrated with weeks off work. Life is to be lived, yes? Not to be spent making money for the future when the future may never come. I remind myself of this when I'm internetless.....grr.
3. They are cheese eating surrender monkeys.
Cheese eating, yes. Oooh yes. And they take their cheese very seriously. I find it quite nice actually. It's science and art combined. "Cheese cutting." Can I major in that? I have, however, been given a real live lesson from a real live French guy on how to properly cut cheese. Surrendering, I don't know. They don't walk around with white flags. Maybe they keep them stored away. In the bread basket where it will be easily accessible? Either way, it's fun to exchange surrender jokes with them for fast-food, gun carrying, or Executive Branch jokes.3. They are cheese eating surrender monkeys.
2. The women don't shave their armpits.
I haven't made a habit of going around and investigating women's armpits. However, I would have to classify this stereotype as a myth. There's this little thing going around lately called globalization. It tends to affect what people consider beautiful and in, and especially influences the youth, who are most likely to sport bare arms. In conclusion, I declare that I have yet to see one woman with unshaven armpits.1. The French are rude.
If I can emphasize one thing, it is that this statement is most definitely false. Yes, I have met a few unpleasant fellows who don't like Americans, are resentful of American influence and prevalence in France and come across as rude. But these people are few and far between. And, in their defense, it's almost like they are like that because of some deep rooted nationalistic desire to keep French culture alive. American culture may seem threatening when you love your country, your language, your people, and cheese and you turn on the radio to American music and hear the youth speaking English words. You would wonder what's going to happen to the cheese and wine and beautiful words in a few hundred more years. Alright, maybe I'm being a tad sarcastic, but really, I applaud them for wanting to preserve their culture. After all, I am making it my life work to study them and this land and try to understand that culture. I hate the thought of it not being around in the future because we're all speaking English or Spanish or Chinese. The French may be stiff about some things, but if they have a real reason for getting to know you, some association other than buying train tickets or a taxi, they will welcome you with open arms as fast as you will let them. I can think of countless examples. The elderly couple at the bed and breakfast when I first got to France. The old lady who is my stand partner at orchestra. The orchestra conductor. The little kids I teach. Their parents who drive me from school to school. Virtually everyone at church. No, the French are not rude. "The French are like a baguette. Hard on the outside, soft on the inside." They just want to preserve their culture. That's all. So if you waltz into a country sporting a camera, white sneakers, talking about world powers, Apple computers, and McDonald's and wondering loudly why nobody speaks English to you, you probably won't have the greatest reception anywhere, let alone in France.
One more little thing, remember my students with their white-out pens and perfect handwriting? They are little perfectionists. Little perfectionists grow up to be big perfectionists. Most French speak some English, yes. But most French don't speak perfect English. It's very hard for them to butcher a foreign language in front of a stranger. Even the teachers I work with won't speak English around me, and if they must say one or two words, they apologize profusely for how awful their English is. It's a matter of pride, cultural pride or pride of not wanting to embarrass themselves. It is required that all students learn English in school, even when their teachers aren't fully qualified to teach it. It's a very sensitive subject for them because they know they aren't qualified, and yet they are required by law to teach it anyway. If you ever visit France, please try to remember that if they hadn't been so stubborn about preserving their language and culture, the France you visit today would be much different than it actually is. So when they act like they don't speak English, but you know they speak better English than your French, just try to appreciate the rich culture around you that they've worked so hard to preserve in its purest form. And enjoy some cheese :)
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