la touriste

Today I had planned to go to the Musée Carnavalet, which is all about the history of Paris. It's in the Marais, the oldest district in the city from which the nobility progressively distanced themselves as it got more crowded and newer places developed farther West (like the Louvre). The Marais also has some really great jewelry boutiques, and since I've realized that my style is quite lacking in those finishing touches and I got going pretty late anyway ... um, I didn't make it to the Musée! The other thing on my list was stop by the Jewish area of the Marais and enjoy one of those famous falafel takeaways, but I am dumb and I forgot it was Friday afternoon and everyone who makes a good falafel was already getting ready for the Sabbath.

So, plans changed and I had a cheese plate at some random cafe where I realized how very awkward I am when it comes to interaction with humans. It's only worse in French with the additional linguistic discomfort. What made me almost mortified was my failure to grasp all the unspoken codes like, do I seat myself at a café, or do I make eye contact and say "Bonjour!" to the owner/waiter (often the same person), or does he/she show me to a table? In this I failed. What time is it okay to start saying "Bonsoir" vs. "Bonjour"? In Guatemala the border between tardes and noches was a constant, irritating battle for me. Walking down the street right around sunset (by the way, you basically say hi to everyone there...) I would say "Buenas tardes" and someone would respond to "correct" me with "Buenas noches." I would adjust and say to the next person, "Buenas noches," and they would inevitable feel the urge to "correct" me by saying 'Buenas tardes." So this isn't a new struggle. Also, there is apparently a difference between "Bonsoir" and "Bonne soirée" which is that the first is hello and the second is goodbye. These are nuances no one thinks we need in French 101, and maybe that's true but once you're in the deep end it's a doozie. Also, I discovered today that when you want your check at the café and the guy isn't paying attention, it's not weird to go up to the register where he is engrossed in his newspaper (which is a GOOD thing, people) and give him a big fat hint. I just think he and his buddies (regulars?) who were eating there thought I was insane.

This saga continues with the delicate problem of "la bise" or the little kiss on the cheek they do here. In Guatemala it's just one and since I was on a mission, I never let guys do that and instead opted for a colder (to them) handshake. Sometimes you just have to literally strongarm them out of kissing you, actually. In France, they do two bises in Paris, and three or even four in other regions. (Aren't customs wonderfully inconstant? ...  UGH.) I still have a lot of leftover weirdness about la bise from the mission (and maybe general issues with being around men, in addition to all my natural weirdness about that.) So in short, I am never the one to start dat, even with girls who are SOOOOOO much easier to talk to. By the end of the night, even after a VERY LONG, quite intense, surprisingly weird Victor Hugo compilation performance, I did the proper leave-taking which is saying goodbye to each person individually with a handshake or des bises. *sigh* I am proud of myself for like 10 seconds.

It's funny to me when Americans say French people are rude because I know exactly why people think that, but I also know why French people think Americans are arrogant and imposing. I think French people have a perhaps inflexible form of etiquette but which makes one very attentive and respectful. Monsieur Sprenger pointed out one day that the source of that is essentially the formation of French culture by a noble class that the US never had, though there have been plenty of Gatsbys/Kennedys, etc. I would add. It's easy to forget that and judge people by your own assumptions. In fact, we do that constantly. It's natural but it's not very helpful or diplomatic a lot of the time.

I have been careful to say "Bonjour" when I walk into a store (not like FNAC or Monoprix which are sort of like Target or something but smaller boutiques and things) before I start browsing. One thing that is beautiful about France is the service is very good. People want to help you and they expect you to let them. They seem to take it very seriously and a lot of them are professional. I was AMAZED the other day when I went to buy a bra from an admittedly high-end, quality shop (because it's something I think is very much worth the money). Only one US shop -- The Full Cup in Virginia Beach -- has ever done a good job at identifying and providing my size, and even they use measuring tape. Victorias Secret is a joke. The shop in Rueil, where I am sure the woman is the owner or a total lingerie expert, took literally ONE look at me, went to the drawer and got me a bra that was an absolute perfect fit. MERVEILLEUX! I thought to myself, as I do quite often, "OMG... I LOVE FRANCE."

After the Victor Hugo thing, I was too tired to follow the young'uns to a club to dance the night away because I am totally an old lady on the inside, and was heading home when I decided on a whim to walk along the Champs Elysées and be a total tourist (but not look like one I hope) and this song OBVIOUSLY got stuck in my head as soon as I saw the sign in the metro:


I stopped at FNAC and bought a copy of Voyage au Bout de la Nuit because it's on the master's reading list, it has the awesomest title and Monsieur Sprenger thinks it is, among many others, "un chef d'oeuvre."