Reflections on life in France
This page is about experiences and observations less closely tied to a particular time or event than in the diary. Some of these are written about below: others will be added as separate files.
Click links below to go to a section on this page, or to a separate file (in italics)
| Language | Getting about | Bureaucracy | Politics & elections | |
| Culture | Some good books | Meeting & Greeting |
We promised one another not to talk about 'the French' - it's easy to stereotype people and there is plenty of that in writing about life in France, but we want to try and convey the attractions and occasionally frustrations of our transition without lumping everyone together. This does not mean that there aren't certain experiences and characteristics of everyday life which are pretty universal. This was true in Britain too, and often it's the form things take rather than their existence which makes the difference.
Meeting & greeting
Years
ago a friend told me had come to France because you got to kiss all the women!
Well, not quite, but le bisou or la bise is an
institution. Normally you 'faire
la bise' when you meet anyone you know more than slightly, and often you
repeat it on parting. Men meeting
one another, and strangers or slight acquaintances, more usually shake hands,
but good male friends will often exchange bises.
I take a certain pride in having male friends in this category - in the
UK one sometimes hugs (perhaps in a slightly embarrassed way) but
touching more than hands is not universal even among good friends.
And kissing involves putting hands on one or both shoulders.
If the person is a very different height from you it also involves
knee-bends, a challenge to those of us with arthritic knees.
Greetings
can therefore be a long drawn-out process.
In a group of several dozen, a choir for instance, where everyone knows
everyone else pretty well, saying hello can take a good quarter of an hour.
In addition there's the complicated question 'how many?'
Hereabouts you kiss three times on alternate cheeks, but elsewhere it's
2 and in Burgundy among other places 4. French
people often get this wrong - it depends I think where you were brought up
rather than where you now are - and one can be left aiming at air if you try
more than the other person. In
addition, it is generally accepted that all children get bises whether you
know them or not, but until what age? Some
teenagers become rather resistant to being kissed by their parents' friends
whom they hardly know, while others dutifully line up to be kissed and look
surprised if you shake hands with them!
In
groups, especially larger ones, which meet regularly, there is a certain
weariness about the grand tour of greetings each time and certainly if you
arrive a bit late you can get away with a general bonjour while the activity
of the day proceeds - but almost always people will break off in mid-sentence
to greet a newcomer even if they are half an hour late.
On the whole this is polite and welcoming, but if occasionally people
arrive at 10 minute intervals it makes continuous conversation difficult!
Bureaucracy
Bureaucracy is one such phenomenon. Lots of people predicted that we would struggle through mountains of paperwork, but although there is a lot of sorting out to do and some difficult language to understand even as we improve our everyday French, we have often found people really helpful. Mary wrote recently: "I have found the infamous French bureaucracy in fact very helpful and charming. We have had to sign up for water, electric, and gas, and we got our land line telephone is three days which astonished the neighbours - a splendidly efficient woman at France Telecom who did not mind being called up with stupid questions. Mind you, our friend's son who works for them had started the process and we are officially his 'mother's English friends'.
I have had to make several trips to the CPAM (social security) for help with incomprehensible (in English!!!!!) health/pension forms, and then some incomprehensible forms in French, and each time everything was explained, helped with on the spot, all photocopies done there and then, and posted off for me too. Now we are well on the way to being properly registered with the French health service. The insurance man has been splendid, likewise the estate agency as a source of information and advice re tradesmen etc. Things are delivered from IKEA when they say, likewise from Orange internet, and the postman is jolly. And bearded. Santa-like. The one thing that's bugging me is that electricians never call back.
One of the best things was the man who came to explain the central heating system. Our boiler is state of the art, doing hot water and radiators and works by gas. I noticed from the paperwork that Madame had left that the service had not been done last autumn, which invalidates any insurance claim you may wish to make connected with that system. So I rang the installers who serviced it in the past, and asked for a leçon de chaudière as well as to sign up for a service and a contract. This man arrived, and gave us an hour's comprehensive lesson on the physics of central heating and refused to be diverted by comments and stupid questions of mine. He said 'je ne suis pas politique, (wriggling his hand like a snake), je fais la ligne droit. Ecoutez.....' and off he went again. Many ecoutezs. An hour later we knew all." Voila!
Language
It is 9 months since we arrived in Lunel. Learning and speaking French has been one of our main projects and enjoyments. This is just a flavour of our discoveries and of the enjoyment we have had. How have we learned? From dictionaries and watching French tv news at home of course, but principally speaking to people and listening to them - visits from maintenance engineers or to the doctor, dentist and ophthalmologist are important to get the right results, but also as language lessons. Then we have the Réseau d'Echanges Réciproques des Savoirs (RERS) through which we attend weekly lessons in French and assist with weekly English lessons - of course you learn French by teaching English too. RER incidentally is a national voluntary network of local groups literally to exchange knowledge and expertise freely - in this case, French and English people exchange knowledge of their respective languages. Our main 'teachers' are Marcel and Michèle, both of them retired hospital consultants. And finally, last but not least, we have our wonderful neighbours, who speak next to no English and with whom we like to meet and talk, eat, drink and... learn French.
The barriers to learning are mainly the many times we read, talk and listen to English - between ourselves, on Sky tv channels, and in books and weekly mags. But we are trying at least to get a French newspaper (Midi Libre, hopeless for serious news but keeps us up to date with local stuff and local events) and weekly current affairs magazine (Marianne, which is more independently minded than most serious journalism in France, and incidentally full of the driest of snappy current journalese).
I could start on long lists of words which would bore readers silly, but I have been collecting curiosities and 'symbols' of getting to know French better. First there are faux amis - 'false friends', or words and phrases which sound and look the same in the two languages but mean different things - for example (one which shocked me until I twigged) une déception means disappointment not deception, so when people say it's une grande déception they mean it's very disappointing, not a big swindle! Luckily our big Colin Robert dictionary has special boxes to highlight these words.
Gender is a big issue in learning French. Simply, every noun is either masculine or feminine and you have to know which (but we frequently don't!) so that adjectives and articles agree with the noun in question. An endless source of (very willingly provided) correction from friends, neighbours and teachers although tradespeople don't bother so much! Singulars and plurals are also there to trip one up - trousers and shorts are singular in French - un pantalon, un short, while our singular information and holiday are plural renseignements et vacances in French (yes I know we sometimes say holidays, but usually...)
In between whiles we marvel at the odd translations of French websites and leaflets into English. The best example is the local attraction which has picnic tables - tables de pique nique in French, but the English says 'counts of spade screws'. Hmmm...
Whenever we see things like this we also realise we are likely to make equally glaring errors as we struggle to learn and speak better French. Luckily we have found the whole process absorbing and fascinating. And it has only just begun!
More on Language - words and names
We
have been thinking about the very French habit of identifying days by names of
saints or religious festivals. For
example, le Saint Sylvestre is new year's eve, and l'Assomption is 15 August
(a public holiday) while 1 November is Toussaint (odd incidentally that US/UK
traditions highlight Hallowe'en the day before, an altogether darker symbol,
while the French favour the more hopeful All Saints Day - although trick or
treating on 31 Oct is gaining favour here among children!).
Every day of the year has it's named saint and people celebrate the
saint's day matching their name as well as their birthday.
It has struck me as odd that a fiercely republican country which makes
so much of rejecting religious symbols in schools for example should cling to
Catholic festivals and often identify days by their names rather than dates,
while our British habits, despite our established Church, is to use almost
entirely secular names - we even abandoned Whitsun for the Spring Bank
Holiday! While we sometimes get muddled by the names French people
call high days and holidays, they provide a certain interest and give children
something on which to exercise enquiring minds. It's also fun to remember people's saint's days - when we
remember to think of them!
One
of my favourite French websites is the French word a day written by Kristin
Espinasse, an originally American woman married to a French winemaker.
With apologies to her (or perhaps offering her an idea or two) here are
two of my favourite French words. When
I say 'favourite' I don't necessarily mean I feel good when I come across
them, just that they seem to me to sum up aspects of French life which I think
are in one way or another typical:
Normalement
- this is a word I first
came across years ago when we wanted to organise a twinning project and talked
to the Tourist Office in our old twin area, who were noncommittal and lukewarm
about it (perhaps we were just too enthusiastic or optimistic, or perhaps they
just couldn't be bothered). Normalement
means 'normally' or 'all things being equal' perhaps, and it comes quite
reasonably where the answer to a question is outside the control of the person
replying - 'maybe but I wouldn't like to say'.
But until recently I felt a sinking feeling when I asked 'Will someone
be available to meet me?' and the reply began 'Normalement oui...'
Now I am beginning to hear a more positive or at least pragmatic tone
in such responses - after all there is a limit to anyone's power to arrange
miracles - but even so, when you hear this don't get your hopes up.
Préciser means to specify or state exactly. Not very interesting on its own, but it symbolises an attitude to everyday information which is (according to your mood) either extremely helpful or a cross between too much detail and blinding one with science. So for example when I went to buy plastic pockets for my choir music folder I was offered two qualities 5.5 milli-somethings or a more impressive 9... In England I would have found 'thin' and 'thicker' or something. Everyone who uses DIY tools uses millimetres for drills, screw sizes and spanners with great vigour. Food is full of measurements - diameters of apples and eggs, qualities of meat and fish, and people take pride in specifying these things. Mostly this seems like a good thing: the relish of précision is a striking quality of everyday life in France
Getting about
When you move far away from family and friends in a country where the same population is spread over twice the surface area, then transport is a constant concern. First of all, we are concerned to be as green as possible, so we both now have bikes to get around town, or we walk to do our shopping (in the town centre anyway).
But even if we can propel ourselves around the town, to take part in many activities we have to use public transport or, often, a car. For Montpellier (as we often found in Nottingham) park and ride with the trams is a good option. The Montpellier tram system is far-reaching and reliable. When we want to go to Nîmes or Avignon we can use the train, which with our old-age cards is cheap. But to go to musical gatherings in the Cevennes, or our French class each week in Sommières or Quaker meeting in Congénies the car is the only way. We also need the car for bulkier supermarket shopping. Communities are scattered and activities arranged across networks covering wide areas. So we have been grateful for our reliable Citroen Berlingo even though we can do some shopping and attend local gatherings on foot or bike.
Driving in France is not new to us - we were already familiar with driving on the right from many holidays, and had adjusted to left-hand drive cars a bit. After a while the mechanics become second nature, and you get used to different road signs and road layouts (although I did drive the wrong way round a roundabout just after I got back from a trip to England early in the year - no damage thank goodness). I bought a copy of the French highway code soon after arriving - another good source of French lessons and interesting for crucial differences, e.g. in tackling roundabouts (the right way round!!) and in the mixture of give way rules. The old French system was to give way to vehicles approaching from the right, even if they were emerging from 'minor roads'. Now most junctions give priority to the major road, but when you see a junction sign with X it still means give way to the right, so you need to pay attention! And as for the overtaking... I have become more patient or at least resigned, but there is hardly ever a time when the person behind you does not want to go faster than you, although you may be at the speed limit. A 2009 report on French road accidents is here - see also our blog
We are well aware that for many UK expats the cheap flight is the lifeline that makes living in France possible for them. We always hoped to avoid depending on them, but inevitably Ryanair rules our lives at least as far as most of our visitors are concerned, and their lack of good advance notice of flight plans and changes (other than by trial and error on the booking website) is frustrating. They seem to have cancelled winter flights from East Midlands to Nîmes - no explanation or indication when they might resume - and on top of this Nîmes airport is closing for 6 weeks from mid-October to resurface the runway, so Luton flights will also be unavailable. Montpellier to Stansted or Gatwick is the best local option, or for the south-west of England Avignon to Bristol or Exeter.
What I hoped to start with was that train journeys would be a good alternative. Now that St Pancras is about to open as the Eurostar terminal our journey from here via Lille to the East Midlands by train is in theory very smooth. But the cheapest fares don't allow for any flexibility in train times so you have to leave big gaps between connections to allow for delays, and even so you can't get fares much under £200 return, as against about £40 by air. It's all the wrong way round for more ecological travel.
Elections and political life
Over our first 16 months here (this is written in March 2008) we have tried to become informed and involved in French political life as far as we foreigners can. Mary took part in Socialist Party meetings for a while, although she has not continued because they seemed chaotic and not very inclusive. In last year's presidential elections we were spectators but this year we had the right to vote in local elections - citizens of the European Union can vote wherever they live in Europe. We had to register with the usual proof of residence and identity, and a few weeks ago we received the official package of lists and manifestos together with our official voting cards..
Municipal elections have two rounds - in the first, anyone can put together a list of possibly councillors and stand, and although the lists are not overtly linked to political parties, people know who is linked to which part of the political spectrum. In small communes (3500 and under) you can vote for individual candidates from different lists, but in a place the size of Lunel you select one of the lists on offer. In the voting station you confirm your identity, are given copies of all the lists and an envelope, and in the polling booth you fold and place your chosen list in the envelope. Then you go to the ballot box, where your identity is confirmed and your voting card stamped to say so. After that, the official releases the lever which allows your envelope to drop into the box; you sign another list to say you have voted, and that's it.
Two things surprise you if you are used to British elections - first, that you vote by putting a list in an envelope, not by marking a voting slip (although, as I say, it can be different in smaller communes). Second, and more fundamentally, your vote cannot be identified. The envelope is plain, not numbered and the list you put in it is completely anonymous too. In England, your ballot slip is numbered and when you register your name is linked to that number so, in theory, someone could match the two and find out how you had voted. The French system is genuinely secret. A third thing (which we commented on at the time of the presidential elections) is that the results are known quickly - usually within an hour or so of the polls closing. It must be easier to count votes here...
If, after the first round, a list has not achieved 50% of the votes cast, there is a second round in which lists getting more than 10% can stand again and those with more than 5% can combine with other larger ones. In practice, this time the two surviving left wing lists combined with the old-stager Claude Barral (who had led the list including the Parti Socialiste) playing second fiddle to the 'independent' Muriel Goroneskoul who is a local architect. There is a week between the two rounds, and in the local paper a few days before the second it was also announced that the Front National (usually believed to be behind the outgoing Mayor) actually supported Goroneskoul too! Even so, the Mayor (who had just short of the necessary 50% in the first round) got 60% to his opponents' 40. Oddly, that gives him 4 times as many seats on the council - 28 to 7 for the opposition. We have not worked out how that happens. So it is more of the same for the local council in Lunel, although it does represent a swing away from the Mayor who had 70% or so of votes last time.
Some good books
When we came to France we had found all kinds of guides to living as expats, retiring to France, buying houses here and accounts of life 'in the merde' as one particularly crass title puts it. But as time has gone on we have discovered some outstanding and useful books whose details follow. I've included links to Amazon or other relevant website just as a start - of course you can buy them in all sorts of ways.
Speak the culture: France. Thorogood, 2008. This is a useful guide to French life and culture, assembled apparently by committee. It's sometimes glib and patchy, but useful in explaining how things tick and why things happen here.
ROBB, Graham. The discovery of France. Picador, 2007. A fascinating and literary excursion into the development of modern France from its historical roots - often almost too rich in detail. The picture of the emergence of a nation in the fairly recent past, from such tiny and isolated rural building blocks is almost unbelievable.
STILLMAN, D.M. & GORDON, R.L. The ultimate French review and practice - mastering French grammar for confident communication. Passport, 1999. This is for serious students, with lots of exercises and examples - stick at it and you will learn a lot.
TIMONEY, Charles. Pardon my French. Penguin, 2007. Saving the best till last - this is a relatively slight book but packed full of useful information and tips on French language and everyday life. A real treasure-trove.
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