Letter From Paris
Paris Kiosque - April 1998 - Volume 5, Number 4
Copyright (c) 1998 Harriet Welty-Rochefort - Used with permission.
On Being A Tourist
Since I've lived in France for more than 25 years, visitors often ask me
various questions about the French and the French way of life.
Here a few of the questions I've been asked, and some of the (whittled down) answers:
Why do the Parisians jump lines?
The Parisians jump lines because they are constitutionally incapable of
forming and keeping them! This is due to an essential characteristic of
the Parisian: lack of patience. Another characteristic: oneupmanship.
An example: The Race to the Red Light. I can never figure out why people
zoom around me, revving up their motors, when we both end up at the same
red light, but I guess getting there first is important. "I think
Parisians were put on earth to bug each other," observed one foreigner.
Perhaps. Anyway, if you are in a post office, bank, or grocery store, and
someone cuts ahead of you, don't get out your gun. In France, they may cut
ahead but the ensuing nastiness remains VERBAL. (This is actually very
amusing because once you actually master this beautiful language you can
get away with saying all kinds of horrid things you wouldn't dare utter in
the States).
When are you supposed to tip and how much?
A 15% tip is always included in your café or restaurant bill so you don't
have to leave anything else. People leave extra tips if they are happy
with the service, know the waiter, go back regularly - or happen to be in a
particularly generous mood.
And here's a tip (pardon the pun): there's a big difference between the
price of a coffee or any other drink you consume standing up at a bar or
sitting down at a table. If you're broke or watching your pennies, don't
sit down! On the other hand, one of the great joys of Parisian living is
to sit at a sidewalk café nursing a drink for hours and watching the world
go by.
Why do you see so many dogs in grocery shops and restaurants?
Hygiene rules forbid dogs in restaurants and food stores, but for the most
part both store owners and dog owners blithely ignore the rule. I
personally don't like a dog near food, but when in Rome....
Why do Parisians often seem to be bickering?
Parisians (like New Yorkers?) are not brought up with The Automatic Smile.
Smiles are reserved for family and close friends. The rest of the world
gets an uninterested, glum, or, depending on the circumstances, sad or
angry look. The bad side of this is that if you live here long enough you
end up thinking everyone hates you. The good side is that when a Frenchman
breaks out in a smile, you know it's for real!
What can I do so that people don't see that I am an American tourist? How
can I blend in?
Women: Try taking those comfortable tennis shoes and substituting them
with a pair of small heels. Your Parisian chic level has just been
multiplied by 100. Women and men: try lowering the voice. We Americans
are accustomed to the wide open spaces - even in our restaurants. Most
Parisian restaurants are small, with tables crowded close together. If you
want to blend in with the natives, check out the noise level and make sure
yours isn't above it.
...and April in Paris
Speaking of being a tourist, I decided to test the waters on the last
Sunday in March, a day which was very clearly announcing April in Paris.
The temperature suddenly soared, buds popped out on the trees, tourists
ambled all over the city, and even though I am a long-time resident of the
city, I decided to join them.
The difference between the tourists and me, though, is that they are housed
in hotels, eat in restaurants, and rush around the streets trying to get in
as many sights as they can before leaving the City of Light.
I live here everyday - so I visit the city from the vantage point of
someone whose apartment is her "hotel", whose dining room table is the
"restaurant", and who isn't in a hurry to see everything because
(hopefully) both she and the sights will be around for a long time to come.
The pleasure of being a tourist never wears off, though, even and
especially when it's in the city you live in. It's fun to get up from a
French Sunday lunch at home (this one wasn't very grand, consisting only
of a crudité to start with, a rice salad, cheese, and a tarte Tatin - but
enough wine to induce a decidedly sleepy state) and go up to Montmartre
rather than taking a little nap.
Only a half an hour from where we live near the Bois de Boulogne, the
scenery changes entirely. From sedate, bourgeois, residential Neuilly, we
enter the lively Land of the Tourist Bus (more and more of which,
incidentally, are from the eastern European countries). We're also hit the
Land of the Sex Shop, ranging from raunchy little shops with names like
"Sexy Folies" or big "sex supermarkets" like the "Sexodrome".
We are also in the Land of the Mime. Over the past few years, these
performers, men and women garbed in white from head to toe and as still as
statues (which they are pretending to be), have sprouted up in all the
major tourist areas, giving visitors pleasure - and sometimes a scare. I
witnessed the latter one day when a Japanese tourist was strolling down the
rue de Rivoli in front of the Louvre. She passed the "statue" - which
suddenly reached out and grabbed her. Imagine her heartbeat!
On this particular March day, I once again saw a "statue" move. This time,
the mime, dressed in white with a face painted gold, was intent upon
enticing a curious little girl to come a bit closer. Come on, come on, he
signalled to her, with his hands and eyes and eyebrowns. Intrigued and
fascinated, she crept up, closer and closer, until she was almost face to
face with him. Elegantly, he bowed, then stretched out his gold hand,
opened it, and offered her a perfect little pink bonbon. Need I say it?
Scenes like this are the reason I love being a tourist in Paris, "my town".
Harriet Welty-Rochefort, a bona fide Midwesterner from
Iowa, visited Paris for the first time while in
college. She became so completely enamored of
France that she stayed - and has been there ever since.
Married to a Frenchman and the mother of two
Franco-American boys, Harriet Welty-Rochefort writes
on business, lifestyle and travel for major U.S.
publications. Her book - French Toast - is a lighthearted look at
French manners and mores.
Writes Leslie Caron: French Toast includes the most delightful barbs at France's
subtle but deep-rooted codes of behaviour...I read the book on the EuroStar between
Paris and London and wished the train had not reached its top speed of 300 kph!
Reviewed in the Los Angeles Times on January 2, 1998, French Toast
will be published in the U.S. in December.
Harriet can be contacted at
101676.467@compuserve.com.
Your Hotel In Paris