An American Girl in Avignon

When one travels, he or she can’t help but notice those inevitable “cultural differences.” Those things that make you go, “Hmmm, well that’s different…” At first, one may be confused, or even irritated by customs unlike his or her own, but after some reflection, and remembering to keep an open mind, one can learn from people who are different from themselves. I would personally like to apologize for a post I had on here the other night, which I thankfully deleted, about things I had noticed since arriving in France. I honestly did not mean anything by it: I did it out of fun and sarcasm really. But looking back, I realized that it may have come off as harsh or more arrogant and closed-minded than intended; I apologize for this. It’s funny how we can say one thing, or write it, and think nothing of it, yet it may come off as rude or offensive. I need to learn to think before I post… That’s the only thing I don’t like about writing/online conversations. The intention, meaning, or “reading b/w the lines” is not always as clear as the writer may think. So here is my attempt at a rewrite: Some things I find fascinating/bizarre/yet oh so wonderful about France:

Okay, so one can make their own version of Mission Impossible 20 (or whatever number they are on now): how to find a public restroom in Europe…without paying anything. Most places won’t allow you to use the facilities, unless you are a paying customer. So, every time nature calls, one has to sit at a café for a noisette or something equivalent, just to be “allowed” to perform a natural human function (or else begin the hunt for the scarcely scattered porcelain retreats). There are no restrooms in stores for customers, only the people that work there. Which I guess makes sense in a way. If I was a manager, I wouldn’t want everyone and their brother dirtying up the restroom. But you could also argue that when you gotta go, you gotta go. What is most disappointing to me was my trip to McDonalds today. I stopped here, thinking it likely that no other place would serve us. I ran upstairs only to discover that the bathroom had OPERATING HOURS. I am not joking. The bathrooms would be “out of service” every day from 14H00 to 16H00. It was 14H30. So, if your bladder starts pulsating within that two hour span, one is just fresh out of luck. This was different. Cleaning hours, maybe? I don’t really know…Irritated and about to burst, we walked briskly to a crêperie. Trying to blend in by acting like I had come from the outdoor patio, a man pointed me in the direction of the massive patisserie’s only bathroom. Ahh, success. I tried to figure out some bizarre explanation for why finding a bathroom is so difficult and came to the conclusion that we have been spoiled by convenience. Whenever I have to go to the bathroom in the states, I always know that there will be one waiting for me. Europe’s system is probably better for the economy, but good luck to all those with overactive bladders while traveling! (Side note: sometimes you will get lucky and find someone who will have pity on your soul; especially if you start to do the “potty dance”:) ) Tip: Whenever at a restroom, use it, whether you have to go or not, because chances are that you will have to use it later…and not be able to find one. Keep pocket change with you too, just in case you have to buy a coffee or something to use the facilities. Trust me, if you have to go that badly, you will gladly fork over a euro or two for an au lait…already happened to me)

Speaking of bathroom needs, yesterday during our feast, Monsieur pulled out the guinea pig, Zephyr, and placed a collar around his neck as he held him. I mentioned this story in my previous blog, but somehow forgot to add that the rodent peed all over his shirt, and then left two presents right beneath my feet. Monsieur just laughed, too hyped up on expensive champagne to care. I like that in general, the French seemed to be less stressed about things like this. (You can probably tell that I am getting used to the laissez-faire, relaxed Provencal attitude…and loving it!) :)

And speaking of “presents,” I know I have mentioned how there is a lot of dog poop on the ground here, but failed to say anything about the treatment of French dogs. The French love, love, love their pooches. They go with them in stores, restaurants, and supermarkets…just about anywhere really. It is also not uncommon for dogs to be wandering the streets without leashes, or panting while striding in front or behind of their masters on busy boulevards. Being a dog lover, it doesn’t bother me one bit, aside from the time I accidently stepped in one of their “presents.” If you don’t like dogs, just mentally prepare yourself for seeing a whole lot of them before coming here.

This brings me to “social smoking.” Apparently, one who participates in just “social smoking,” or smoking when one drinks or with others who smoke, isn’t considered as a “smoker.” I guess this is because smoking seems to be more culturally accepted in France. The more I think about it, I realize that this is kind of similar to the US, in that some people (particularly in a college setting) only smoke when they drink, and don’t consider themselves “smoker.” I was just surprised by the number of people who do smoke here. More often than not, the French seem to smoke. Although I personally to not like smoking, to each, his own.

Reverting back to music. When I was sitting in Place Pie today (which I apologize that I have been spelling incorrectly this whole blog…it’s Place PIE, not Pis), and getting swarmed by some of those inevitable pigeons, I heard Kid Cudi’s “Day ‘n’ Nite” blaring as a SAAB drove by. I asked Paul the other day if the people in France knew what the lyrics to the American songs they love to listen to meant. He replied, “Nope, most don’t, they just like the beat.” I found this really amusing. How different from the US this was. It’s not too common to find Americans who listen to French music; aside from French majors/French nerds comme moi. What’s even funnier is that I have seen some of them walk around mumbling/mouthing words to American songs…inappropriate ones. So one could walk around saying, “Let me see you grind and that pole,” and think that they are singing something as innocent as the Temptation’s “My Girl.” A little bizarre, but I realized that I (and I’m sure countless others) had done the same thing with Lady Marmalade’s infamous “Voulez-vous couchez avec moi, ce soir?!” before taking French. I’ll be the first to admit walked around singing this, when in reality, I had no clue what I was saying. I’m pretty sure that most people know what it means by now know…but on first listen (and no French) who would have thought that tune was a hooker ballad??…I just thought it was cool that it was French. It is really quite funny…in a disturbing sort of way.

The fashion-forward Frenchies love to dress up. I have noted that they where a ton of boots over here; which being a boot lover myself, I really enjoy seeing. What I find interesting is how it seems rare to spot one in shorts over here, unless those shorts are accessorized with tights and the wearer’s feet are adorned with boots. Normally in the states one would consider this kind of attire tasteless, but it works over here…and they wear it well! I don’t know how they do it, but French people have flair about them. They could put on a paper bag and strut down the street and still look fabulous. It must be in their blood: we are in the country where Chanel and couture originated after all…

Speaking of walking down the streets, one should be careful crossing them. Pedestrians do not have the right of way; cars do. “Look both ways” could never be more applicable. You may get killed (I almost have).

What’s also really interesting to me is the French people’s obsession with American shows like “House,” whom is affectionately referred to as “DR HOUSE,” in a cute French accent. There is even a Dr. House quote on our family’s refrigerator. Fascinating, being that the television here is from the US, meaning that they watch dubbed shows all the time. I wonder if the French people get tired of watching everyone’s mouth out of sync with the dialogue. You’ll be watching something like Gossip Girl, and all the sudden ,when Penn Bagley is about to speak in that sexy, sarcastic tone of his, some weasely voice will come out of his beautiful mouth (thank God that voice has an accent). It just ruins it for me really…(aside from the Penn Badgley thing, most of the other dubbing is a-okay with me.) The French also have their own version of American Idol called Nouvel Star. I have only watched it once, and I am not embarrassed to admit that I was really entertained. But I think it is funny how something just as popular in the states, like House, can be brought to a foreign country, dubbed, and then become just as much (if not more) of a hit. It just goes to show you that although there may be some cultural difference and things I don’t understand about the French, people everywhere are really the same. I guess “it’s a small world after all” in that aspect. But there’s so much world to see and so many things to learn to try to understand. And I have only begun to start learning…