Discovering culturing differences

Having been here for almost three and a half months, I feel it is high time that I address some of the cultural differences I’ve experienced since being in France. Some of them are a little bit funny, and others are just bizarre. But I was talking to a friend recently and certainly compared with the UK, there are quite a few culture changes which have been a cause for adjustment for me.

1. Lunchtime.

Lunchtime isn’t just a meal here. It’s not about grabbing a meal deal and eating it as you walk along back to the office. When you have lunch here, you spend a good part of your day eating, drinking wine, and chatting business, after which time you stroll casually back to work, probably after 2 o’clock. This was weird for me at first since I am so used to eating on a time limit, but the French really have the right idea! It’s the perfect way to find some relaxation during the work day, and enjoy what you’re eating!

2. Sorry we're closed.

Now I really do live in the middle of nowhere in England- sandwiched between more in-the-middle-of-nowhere villages. But on a Sunday, if you want to buy something, you will still be able to find numerous places which are open. Not here! Everything closes on a Sunday. The shops in town do open for the morning but are all shut up by 1 o’clock. If you want anything at all in the afternoon on a Sunday, you’re screwed- even the big supermarket in town is shut. I’m all for Sunday, day of rest but Sunday afternoons in France are like being part of a ghost town.

3. What are you staring at?

On the metro, on a platform, in the shops, the French stare. Here’s the situation: you happen to glance up and see a middle aged woman staring right at you from a few aisles away, but she doesn’t look away when you catch her- not like English people would out of embarrassment! Instead, you look away and when you glance back, she’s still staring! You start to think maybe there’s something on your face, when there’s not you begin to stare back, and yet she won’t stop! This is something which several of my friends have also faced, with both men and women of differing ages- I’m not sure what it is, but it’s definitely weird.

4. Mind my bubble.

I did a post last year about how much I like my personal space, and I believe this is partly an English thing too. So when I came here and people started walking by with centimetres to spare despite having space all around, I was hugely uncomfortable. I’ve suspected several people of pick-pocketing me because they have stood so close when looking at train times or a map. There just doesn’t seem to be this sense of spatial awareness- everyone’s space is everyone else’s. I haven’t quite come to terms with that yet.

5. Marry Me

Answer: no. This one addresses French men, and the handful of stories I’ve heard from just a few people. French men are forward. Where us English are modest about our feelings, and shy away from telling someone that we really do like them, the French plunge into feelings headfirst and don’t understand the word ‘no’. I’ve heard several examples where one date= girlfriend/boyfriend status, or an expectation that you will sleep with them. English girls I’ve met have been shocked by how forward the French men are here. What I haven’t worked out is whether they act worse because we’re English, or if it seems worse because we’re English.

6. Don't wait for the green man.

The little green man at pedestrian crossings means absolutely nothing here. When it changes to the red man, people walk anyway. When it changes to the green man, cars drive anyway. There’s really no perfect situation here, so I’ve learned to throw my life on the line along with every other French person and just cross when it looks relatively clear. It’s also another way to tell who’s French and who’s foreign- the French just walk, the tourists hover until the green man comes up, and then get caught anyway.

7. Puff away.

The difference between England and France for smoking is really quite incredible, considering we’re only separated by a tiny bit of water. So many people smoke here that I genuinely believe I have suffered more from passive smoking since I arrived here than I have in my entire life. Walking out of the front school gates, a cloud of smoke awaits; waiting of the platform, a puff of smoke comes my way; going down the street, a wall of smoke hits me from a passerby. I don’t know when they missed the health warnings, but clearly some message didn’t reach the French. Smoking seems to be almost inherent in their culture.

I’m sure the longer I live here, the more differences I will find, but for now those are some of my favourites. I will add more as and when I discover them. In the mean time, if you know of any strange cultural differences, post a comment below!

Hello December

Why, oh why has France not caught up with the modern age of having accessible internet wherever you go? Posts have been minimal due to my internet being minimal, and I’m actually writing these offline to post in the two minutes where my internet might suddenly decide to return.

So HELLO DECEMBER!! And HELLO CHRISTMAS. You’ve been a long time coming, and in a weird way have come round far too quickly at the same time. I can remember last Christmas like it was yesterday and yet so much has happened since then. But let the festivities begin! This year I am feeling far more excited about Christmas than I have during the last few years. I think it is probably because I’ll be going home as well to a wonderfully decorated festive house, with a cozy fire and warm blankets, and fluffy animals because they’ve grown their fur! I cannot wait.

I keep getting scolded by people who say I shouldn’t be wishing away my time in Paris because I want to go home so much, and honestly I’m trying not to! But it’s been seven weeks since I was at home and, although life is 100 times better here than it was, home is still where I really want to be. In six months’ time, when I’ve finished, it may be that I feel utterly different about life here, but for now it is an experience I'm using to help me grow as a person, and to help improve my French.

It helps that it has been so beautiful here for the last few weeks. The autumn colours are so rich, especially in the wood where I run. With the clear blue skies, and although it is terribly chilly, it’s utterly picturesque. The Christmas lights have also been turned on, so all around the town are sparkly Christmas trees and baubles and icicles! So here are some pictures of the woodland nearby on a lovely autumn afternoon.

  

Paris Catacombs

After weeks of attempting to go to the Paris Catacombs, I finally took myself one Sunday and stood in the queue from 10am to 11am in the cold. All I can say is thank goodness the wait was worth it!! It costs just four euros to get in and the whole tour takes around 45 minutes to one hour, depending on how long you take to wander around the stacks and stacks of human remains. Yep, that's right- if you were previously unsure on the nature of the Catacombs of Paris (I've had many baffled questions asking me what they are), they are an expanse of old mines which have been filled with the bones of six million people.

I didn't really know what to expect from this. I had read many articles about 'undiscovered Paris' where they would quote the Catacombs as something which people often miss, despite their interesting history. I'm still a bit torn on whether I should say this, but I came out having really enjoyed the experience, in a kind of macabre, really intrigued sort of way. It was one of those things which you really have to force yourself to understand what you're seeing, without seeing it through the detached and desensitised eyes of people living in the 21st century. 

Formerly a quarry, mining limestone for building the likes of Notre Dame and the Louvre, in 1786 the underground maze became an ossuary when the transfer of bones from the Cimetière des Innocents began. Gradually, the bones from other graveyards over Paris were also transferred, and those killed during the French revolution were also placed directly into the Catacombs.

There is such a rich and interesting history behind the Catacombs, it seems such a shame that so many people never experience this rather different aspect to Paris. But I truly would recommend doing so, whether you are being a tourist for the weekend, or you've lived here for some time. I loved it because it was so interesting, and a little bit surreal. I stared at the bones of six million people, all of whom had lives and were individuals centuries ago, but now who have been reduced to part of a display of human remains. Incredible.

To get to the ossuary, you're taken through the old tunnels made for quarrying.

Just a tiny section of the millions of piled bones

The Catacombs were filled with barred ways, all part of the maze which made up the old quarry