purelyfrance

As foreigners living full time in France, the most common question we field from guests is, ‘How do you get along with the French?  It is really a question with two parts. How are we received by the French, and secondly, how do we find the French?

We can categorically say that we have never for one moment ever been made to feel we were other than welcome.  We have always been greeted warmly, treated with respect, and have had scores of offers of kind and thoughtful assistance.  I will quickly remind you that we have not lived in Paris!!   But in Provence, and the Cote d’Azur  now here in Burgundy  it has been the same treatment.

For example!  Our neighbour in Saint Rémy-de-Provence was Renee, a recently widowed 82 year old, ‘41 years in that knee, and 41 years in this knee’ he would tell us. Renee owned an antique shop just around the corner, along from the Nostradamus fountain.  In our first few days of taking up residence we thought we should do the neighbourly thing and go and introduce ourselves.  To our surprise and delight he immediately invited us to his home that evening for ‘un aperitif’. 

That’s when we learnt to drink pastis.  Three hours later we could hardly make it back up the stairs. Poor Anne had an even bigger challenge. The drink options were pastis, scotch or muscat, none of which Anne ever drinks, so she opted for muscat being the lesser of the three evils.  Or so she thought.  Renee, while dispensing our ‘seconds’, (or was it thirds?) inadvertently poured scotch on top of her remaining muscat. Cat-a-strophe! Being the robust Aussie that she is, Anne valiantly sipped her way through it.

Another example.  One of your first actions in France, probably carried out by 95% of foreigners, is to visit your local bricolage (D.I.Y) shop. After three visits, Marjolene asked if we were doing a lot of ‘travaux’ an all encompassing word for ‘work’. As we were, she told us she would open an account for us, which apart from making it more convenient with one monthly payment it meant we accessed ‘trade’ prices which we thought was very generous.

Now you may be thinking, what are they saying behind our backs?  Without a doubt they talk about us, we are a novelty after all. But of course not only do we not know but we will never know! They are too respectful and too subtle for that to happen!!  They too have questions, which are always the same. Why are you living in France, and why did you leave such beautiful countries? (Australia and New Zealand) Which is quickly followed by ‘c’est mon reve, mon reve’ (my dream) to visit Australia/New Zealand. (well okay, usually Australia!)

So, how do we find the French?  Arrogant? Non. Intolerant? Non. Impolite, inconsiderate, disinterested?  Non, non, non!  We have no idea where these perceptions of the French come from, but they seem to be commonly held by those who have yet to visit France. (Perhaps there is one unhelpful waiter in a café somewhere on the Champs Elysees!) 

On the contrary we find the French to be charming, respectful, helpful, passionate, humorous and stimulating people. There is much to admire in the way they live their lives. We admire most the way they have retained ‘respect’, a quality that is fast disappearing in many Western societies. Respect is of course imbedded in their language, the use of the formal ‘vous’ and the more familiar ‘tu’.  But they have also preserved it within their social behaviour.

 You can be waiting in line to purchase a ticket at the railway station. When a staff member arrives to take up his/her position their first act is to move down the row of booths to kiss, kiss their colleagues. No matter that for a minute or two all work stops and clients wait, everyone understands that is the custom and the proper conduct to observe.  We think it is delightful.

Here in Chaudenay, each January the Mayor holds a welcome reception for everyone who has moved into the area in the previous 12 months.  It is for everyone, not solely for foreigners, and to us it typifies their commitment to hospitality, their caring, community attitude, and their pride in wanting to create and preserve a friendly, non-stress living environment.

They have many, many endearing traits, their social ability over any given meal, how they can be so unrushed over a cup of coffee, their perspective of ‘time,’ (once you get use to it!!) their ability to debate issues with passion and conviction. To return to the original question, we find the French just great, we learn a lot from them, we love them!!

A Bientot,

Bruce.

 Bonjour à Tous,

 I spotted fleetingly, a newspaper headline where Hilary Clinton was telling the USA they were ready for a female President. Or was she asking if they were ready?  No, probably ‘telling’, that Madame Clinton is no shrinking violet.

Naturellement, it begs the question, is France ready for a female President?  A question that is most appropriate as voting in the French Presidential elections commences in April. (the candidates have just been elected - no two year campaigns like one country that can and should remain nameless - I mean seriously, the front cover of Time this week is all about the ‘race’ being on. Cat-a-strophe!)  The Socialist Party candidate, Mme Segolene Royal is one of the leading presidential hopefuls, (a name like that must be a marketers dream)and along with the centre/right candidate Nicholas Sarkozy is favoured to proceed into the second round of voting.

Mme Royal is a comparitive political novice, not wet behind the ears, but certainly lacking in experience.  Her critics (i.e. political opponents) have drawn attention to a couple of recent diplomatic ‘faux pas’ situations claiming she says what she thinks her audience wants to hear. (doesn’t every politician?)  The Socialists know however that they have a candidate who is colourful, projects a stimulating personality and who is very electronic media friendly. Think Ronald Reagan, Bill Clinton, Tony Blair, Margaret Thatcher, Bob Hawke and David Lange. The P.S. (of course in France it is the Partie Socialiste) think they are on to a winner, a candidate who will appeal directly to the ‘masses’ and let’s not allow the detail of policies and plans get in the road of entertaining rhetoric.

 But are the ‘masses’ going to be receptive?  In the USA there is probably little debate that the culture exists to readily accept a female President. (more…)

 Bonjour a Tous,

Anyone who has arrived to live in France with minimal French language needs help.  If your language skills are good, you still need help.  If anyone tries to tell you differently they must be talking about another France somewhere else. Like in fantasyland.

Fortunately, and this may surprise you, the French are very good at giving assistance.  Over the past 7 years we have lived in three different areas. In each we have been blessed with our own local ’guardian angel’. In St Remy de Provence it was Jacques, in Nice we had Marc, and here in Chaudenay, Burgundy it is Gilbert. Without them we would probably be in serious counselling sessions by now.

This is the story of Gilbert, and why we love him so much.

If you pronounce his name a la Francais, it comes out as ‘Shel-bare’. This will start to give you a feel for him.  We didn’t realise it at the time but when we bought our Maison, it appears Shelbare came with the fittings.  Shelbare is your standard Frenchman height, 4ft 11 inches (well, may be 5ft 4in) stocky build, at birth was accorded the mandatory nez, moustache, and dark features. In his own private time Shelbare was the ‘handyman’ for the previous owners and knows more about the property than they did. His ‘proper’ employment is with the local village administration.

 He is eternally cheerful and enthusiastic, as willing as the day is long. Longer even. He explains to us he does everything except electrical work. He holds up the black lifeless third finger on his right hand. We get the message. Everything is done at pace. Walking at 50 mph, thinking at 100 mph, and talking at 200 mph. Consequently we catch about every 10th word while saying ‘oui’ and nodding wisely.

Our second day in residence we woke up to no hot water. The call goes out for Shelbare. I will arrive tout de suite he tells us. And he actually does. You must keep this number 8 switch down. (we have 10 of them in the laundry) D’accord Shelbare, merci we say gratefully. The third morning, c’est le meme chose.(it is the same thing) The number 8 switch will go down, but it doesn’t want to stay down. Cat-a-strophe! So we get on the phone again to Shelbare. Again, he arrives tout de suite. The number 8 switch only needs to be forced down during the day time, otherwise the system overrides it and defaults to automatique. D’accord Shelbare, merci, we say feeling somewhat like small children.

Over the next two weeks we see Shelbare frequently as he is still clearing from our property a myriad of furniture left behind from the previous owners. Shelving from the Swiss oven room, a washing machine from one of the apartments, old mattresses and a huge kit set armoire. (bear in mind possession date was two months earlier!) Shelbare declares that the armoire is too heavy to lift so he proceeded to dismantle it. Remember the speed thing, it took about 75 seconds to have it in 18 different carry-able parts.

 If you require any demolition jobs, then Shelbare is your man. If they ever want to replace the Eiffel Tower we are sure Chirac will put out a call for Shelbare. He would finish his day’s work in the village, race up to Paris, the city would awake in the morning to find the Eiffel Tower has vanished from its skyline and Shelbare would be back on the job at la village Chaudenay that same morning.

Two months later we are at a village welcome function meeting the Mayor, various local officials and identities such as the secretary of the tennis club.  But the grand surprise is our ami Shelbare. Not only is he a member of the team but blow us down if he’s not wearing a policeman’s uniform! So we call him Captain and salute him. Privately he seems chuffed that he has surprised us. We learn later he is not strictly a policeman as such but has a wide number of security like functions within the boundries of Chaudenay.

So that for now is our ‘angel’ Shelbare, I am sure it wont be the last you hear about him!

A Bientot,

Bruce.