FAQs (About France, Not Me) Part 1

Whenever I talk to someone back home, they always have a million questions about what life in France is really like. This is my first attempt at answering those questions. I think it will be very interesting to see how my responses might change when I've been here a bit longer...

"How's the weather?"

Since Bordeaux is pretty close to the Atlantic coast, the weather is quite mild. In fact, it's not really that different from the weather in Baltimore right now: Cold and rainy. It seems to rain in short bursts here and then it will be sunny for a moment, tricking you into believing you can leave the umbrella at the house. Don't be fooled. It will rain some more later. I am told it doesn't usually get cold enough for snow, and if it does, the snow doesn't stick around for very long. This is a shame in my opinion, but I guess I can just hop over to the Pyrenees or the Alps if I need a fix.

"How's the food?"

I'll tell you when I actually eat some! It's hard being a single girl in France with broke friends because you never have the chance to go out and get real authentic French cuisine. Some people like going to restaurants alone but I'm not a fan of it myself. What I do know is that many restaurants here do prix fixe menus, both for lunch and dinner. I have peeked at a couple places and it seems pretty pricey to go out for a nice meal (15€ for lunch, 35€ for dinner) but from what I've heard, it's worth it. 

I am obviously not starving to death, though: I have become a regular at the local supermarket. Jason and I got in the habit or "shopping the perimeter" at the grocery store (all the perishable items are on the outside since there is such a high turnover of products) and I do the same here. The produce is very fresh and most of it is local, which keeps costs way down. 5kg bag of potatoes for 99¢? Yes I will! Four big tomatoes for 64¢? Of course! 43¢ for a loaf of French bread? Don't mind if I do! Pretty sure that potato leek soup I made cost like than 25¢ per serving. What?!?!??

And the dairy products... First of all, milk comes in opaque plastic bottles and you don't have to refrigerate it until after opening. They have all types of puddings and yogurts, including a whole section just for different varieties of plain yogurt. I have already described the endless amounts of cheese that you can purchase and there are more types of butter than I even knew existed: partial salt, full salt, sweet, semi-sweet, high fat, low fat, medium fat... The list goes on. I usually get overwhelmed and just pick the store brand, conveniently labeled "le moins chére" (the least expensive).

Pastries! There are so many pastries! All sorts of sweet, buttery breads, stuffed or sprinkled or glazed with the most delicious things you can imagine. I'm a sucker for the standard "pain au chocolat": Basically a rectangular chocolate filled croissant. If you get the fancy kind, they have a light glaze on top that makes me cry tears of joy.

As an aside, I have been really tearing it up in the kitchen lately. That's usually Jason's territory but I guess we have been making meals together long enough that I actually know some stuff about cooking now. Some recent culinary feats include: honey balsamic glazed salmon with broccoli and rice, steamed vegetables and chicken with homemade beurre blanc sauce, mushroom/spinach/goat's cheese omelette with home fries and, my favorite so far, accidental jambalaya. I made Mexican last night and had tons of leftover rice and beans. (Cooking for one is nearly impossible!) I don't have a microwave so I have to reheat everything on the stovetop, which is kind of annoying when you hate washing dishes. I had already planned on making something with this sausage I had purchased when I suddenly realized I was splash of chicken broth away from making a tasty bayou-inspired lunch. Epic.

"How are the French people?"

Maybe people were just trying to prepare me for the worst with horror stories about how rude the French are, but I have had extremely positive experiences with them so far. If I'm running to catch the tram, someone always holds the door for me. If I catch someone's eye while walking down the street, 8 times out of 10 the person will actually speak to me instead of being suddenly fascinated with the color of their own shoelaces. Dudes let Ashely bum (multiple!) cigarettes off them, even after she tells them about her boyfriend. I feel like everyone I have encountered has been genuinely interested in helping me or at least getting me to someone who could. When I tell people I'm from the United States, they don't automatically turn their noses up and walk away from me. In fact, most people think it's pretty neat that I chose to come to France and they think it's fun to try out the corny phrases they learned in high school English class. Is this true of everyone in the country? Certainly not. I'm sure there are some people that downright hate Americans. Luckily, I haven't met them yet. I think the French think about us about as much as we think about them, which isn't really that often, and we both have positive and negative things to say about each other. Thus is the way of the world.

"What's the biggest difference between the Baltimore and Bordeaux?"

Umm... that they speak French here and not English? I think a lot of the reason I am assimilating so quickly is because living here is not really that much different from living in Baltimore. It's definitely cleaner here. I remember that being hard to get used to when I lived in Baltimore, especially coming from the eco-friendly capital of the universe that is Ithaca, NY. And the public transportation is actually something that people choose to use, rather than are forced to use so it's less filled with people who hate their lives. Bordeaux is more diverse than I thought it would be. Certainly not to the degree of Baltimore, but there are lots of different shades of brown people here. I guess it's kinda weird that you can drink anywhere. When it's party time, people are drinking on the train, in the street, on the way to bar... The rest of time, you might see it, too, but people aren't getting shitfaced on the tram in the middle of the day JUST BECAUSE THEY CAN. You could, certainly, but why would you want to? And it's mostly young people, since this is pretty much a college town. You don't see old dudes knocking back 40s in the park at 2pm.

I know it was sometimes inconvenient to find a liquor store that was open on Sunday, but here, it's hard to find anything that's open on Sunday. As the rugby song says, Sunday is the Lord's day, so I suppose everyone is busy doing holy things, but it's weird that even the mall is closed on Sunday.

"What's the biggest difference between the US and France?"

People are less apologetic here. I feel like Americans are so quick to say "Sorry!!!" for everything: I'm sorry my coat brushed you knee. I'm sorry I dropped my bookmark in front of you. I'm sorry for making contact with you on the crowded bus. Unless you really slam into somebody, don't expect so much as a pardon. You live in a place where lots of other people live. It is expected that you will make physical contact with someone else. This is not worthy of regret. Save your sorries for when you're actually sorry. I think this corroborates the "French People are Rude" stereotype but I don't mind it. It makes me think of the opening monologue from the movie Crash...

I also find the French to be very straightforward. Again, this may come off as abrasive, pushy, or mean, but I find it rather refreshing. I appreciate that people aren't going to dance around, trying to be perfectly PC all the time, and instead say what they really think. Is it always going to be something I want to hear? Probably not, but I'd rather you say whatever you have to say so that we know where we both stand. And if I really don't like what you have to say, then I don't have to pretend to like you. We're not going to agree and that's okay!

French bureaucracy is every bit as obnoxious as they say it is. Just to rent an apartment, you have to have a French "guarantor" to basically co-sign on your lease in case you default on your payments. This might not be so hard for a citizen who knows plenty of French people, but it makes it extremely difficult for a foreigner trying to find independent housing for a year or two. Every transaction requires three receipts and a million signatures and all kinds of proof that you're sure you know what you're doing. Just to get in the country, Jason has to get his birth certificate translated by a member of the American Translator's Association, at a hefty price, of course. And there are so many different offices that deal with so many different things and none of them can contact any of the other offices so if you're in the wrong place, too bad, try again in three weeks. Thankfully, I haven't had too much experience with it yet but I have applied for government housing aid and a residence permit so I am sure I'm about to get wrapped in paperwork with a nice red tape ribbon on my head.

Overall, this place has been pretty good to me so far. Maybe my mind will change in a few months when all I want is a DAMN BAGUETTE I THOUGHT THIS WAS FRANCE some Sunday down the road but I'll keep you posted.

An Epic Discovery

Rule number one of traveling into a new time zone is don't go to sleep until it's local time to go to sleep. Otherwise, your circadian rhythm is completely screwed and you'll never recover. NEVER!!!! I sure do wish I had brought a pillow. Wrapping your sweaters in a bath towel does not a pillow make, my friends. Despite my MacGyver'ed linens, I slept like a baby, and woke up on Friday ready to take on the day.

It was back to see my buddy Isabelle at the bank to put some money in my account. This is an obnoxious process. Wells Fargo does not allow you to wire money without appearing in person and the only way to get money from your American account while living in France is to withdraw your daily ATM limit every day until you have the right amount of money in your new account. I appreciate the security measures, Wells Fargo, but I need you to appreciate the urgency here. I had my withdrawal limit bumped up, which is great, but every time I use my American ATM card, it costs me an extra $5 in fees. It adds up when you're trying to move $10,000...

Back at the residence, after I had set up an automatic debit for my rent, I figured I should ask about where to get groceries and a cell phone. Groceries are essential for obvious reasons, but the whole reason I wanted the phone was because I needed to receive a text message confirmation code in order to set up the internet in my apartment. My American phone wasn't getting the codes and while the computers in the lab worked just fine, they did not have webcams for my video chatting needs. As per the usual with the women in the office, I understood about 25% of what they were trying to explain to me. Seriously, when I talk to them, it feels like they are just mumbling random sounds at me, ending each sing-songy phrase with "Vous me comprenez?" to which I always reply with a blank stare and a shrug. I swear, when I can understand them, I will have really accomplished something.

The main director scribbled some things on a Post-It

and led me outside, pointing off into the distance and chattering a mile a minute. I felt like I was trying to decipher Lassie's urgent barking: "What's that, girl? You say I should go over there and get on the tram? But shouldn't we help Timmy get out of the well first?"

Luckily, the tram system in Bordeaux is extremely user-friendly and I instantly knew what I needed to do once I looked at the map.

I love maps. The first thing I do in a new place is find a map and get oriented. I credit my fascination with them to my father, who would always let me be the navigator on our long car rides to the south, long before anyone had a GPS. I often wonder if (when?!??) the zombie apocalypse happens, and we lose access to this kind of technology, how many people will be completely S.O.L. because they don't know how to read a real map. But I digress.

Have you ever had a joy attack? It's when you're going about your daily life and all of a sudden something happens to you that fills you with the purest, most genuine joy. This is how I felt when I walked into the Mériadeck shopping center. On the surface, it's just a mall, but inside this mall is Auchan: It was like the Pittsford Wegmans with a liquor store in it. A liquor store with three aisles of amazing Bordeuax wines for 5 euros. And they don't just have one cheese aisle. There are multiple cheese aisles, sectioned off by the type of cheese (chèvre, roquefort, brie, camembert ...) and this is in addition to the cheese counter, where you can get whole wheels of cheese if you want. After a rather isolating first day, I felt like I was back home with my people; people who tag their own produce and enjoy fancy things at reasonable prices.

I was so excited, I bought more than was comfortable to carry, even though only half of the items on my "Get This Stuff TODAY" list had been crossed off. I made a quick stop at the Orange cell phone store and I was intimidated by the beautiful woman trying to explain to me all the things I would need if I wanted a cell phone with a plan. I was somewhat dejected when I realized that I would not be getting a phone that day.  I had to go back to my residence to drop off the food and I almost called it a day, resigned to the fact that I had failed my phone mission and therefore would spend another day without seeing any familiar faces from back home. But then I remembered the other half of my list, containing items like a pillow, toilet paper, trashcans, plates and cups. I had to go back to Auchan. Lassie had told me they had everything there so I must have missed something. I skipped the grocery section and found an escalator. On the ride up, I noticed a sign, outlining the different departments. Wait, this place has THREE floors? Not only is this place a Wegmans, but it's a Target and a BestBuy, too. In that instant, as I ascended to my new Mecca of commerce, I knew everything was going to be all right.

Next time: Not everyday can be a great day.