Provençal Promises

When I’m in Provence, I can’t help feeling back in Southern California. The same sweetness of star jasmine beckons me to breathe in memories of my backyard; the same rhythmic rasping of insect legs sings to me of fleeting summer promises. Only they don’t bother waiting till dark—and they have earned a more melodic name than “cricket.” Cicadas. I used to dream about them. The sophisticated, continental cousins of Jiminy and company. I wanted to belong to their world. To gaze at their surroundings: marshlands and stone houses; lavender fields and parched dirt paths. And the sea beyond. To prostate myself before them and tell them that I’m ready for more.

Cast from La Gloire de mon père as the Pagnol family. [Online image] 1989.

Ready to Sing Red, White, and Blue Backwards?

People here often ask if I've applied for French citizenship yet, but no one's really tried to convince me to make La Marseillaise my national anthem--until the other day at my local French employment agency. "But don't you feel French? Your children, they will be French," my conseiller said. "They will have la mentalité française--it is much different from la mentalité américaine, non?"
"Uh, yeah, kinda different," I managed, as my mind started to whirl in blue, blanc, rouge: "My kids are going to be French? How has this never occurred to me?" Suddenly I pictured skinny little bourgeois teenyboppers with tight jeans and Longchamp bags, strutting along in the shade of chestnut trees and giggling into cellphones. No after-school sports. Except maybe horseback riding. Or badminton. "Well, don't you feel French?" she was asking me again. I gulped. Thank God French has so many round-about ways to say non.

Madeleine LeBeau as Yvonne. [Online image] 1942.

Finger Food

The French are experts at eating finger food. At a cocktail, you won't see them grappling for hand sanitizer or searching for the toothpicks and napkins. They're trained early on as children in the art of appetizers: as soon as they can walk, they're taught to pass demurely from guest to guest at apéro time with a careful grip on a bowl of gâteaux salés (why call a chip a chip?) or cherry tomatoes, pausing just the time needed for each person to choose a nibble or two and coo, "Merci Mademoiselle." By the time they're old enough to attend a formal pince-fesse ("bottom pincher"!) with glasses of bubbly and elegant trays of canapés, navettes, and petits fours, they're balancing two chamagne flutes in one hand while slurping down raw oysters with the other.
But we Americans have our revenge on taco night!

Tom Hanks and Elizabeth Perkins as Josh Baskin and Susan [Online image] 1988.

When in Versailles. . .

As homogenous and prim as some bourgeois Parisian communities seem, none has managed to breed cookie-cutter, church-going citizens like a certain neighboring suburb. Once home to desperate nobles locked in a vicious battle of decadent one-upmanship, presentday Versailles is comparably dull--as though the blue-blooded of today have all agreed to save their time and energy (not to mention money) by dressing, eating, and living exactly alike. It might be refreshing not to have to keep up with the Joneses, but a little healthy competition (other than waiting to see who gets to baby number five first) might be part of what loving thy neighbor is all about.

Katherine Ross as Joanna Eberhart. [Online image] 1975.

"Débrouille"-ing in French

"Je me débrouille pas mal, je pense," I muster, blushing as my distorted vowels spill out in front of the smug cashier. For someone whose worst grade ever was in French Phonetics (having a professor named Mme Boucher probably didn't help), daily life in France can feel a lot like a never-ending test in the language lab. And in the capital, where English-speaking tourists flock like sneakered sheep, it's easy to be mistaken for a fly-by-night Parisian. Of course, sometimes this can be used to your advantage, like when you're accosted by petitioners or taking longer than normal to count out change at the supermarket. For the most part, though, it feels like a slap in the face to have a French person answer you in English. And it's a matter of honor to accept the challenge and fight back with every irregular verb and idiom you can think of.

Kate Hudson as Isabel Walker. [Online image] 2003.

Getting in Step with Paris

It's hard to find the right balance in Paris. One minute a shopkeeper is ignoring you; the next, you're listening to the roundup of all the quartier's news since De Gaulle was President--the first time around. The reassuring, bubbly, and to-the-point, "Hi! How can I help you?," is as foreign here as a mimosa on an Air France flight. But until you acquire a taste for Parisian small talk, there's no reason not to be bubbly and to-the-point yourself. If anyone raises an eyebrow, you can always comfort yourself later by adding a little orange juice to your champagne.

Lucille Ball as Lucy Ricardo. [Online image] 1956.

"Les Règles"

There's a reason why "rules" and "period" are the same word in French. They can both show up anytime, anywhere, causing pain and a terrible waste of paper. But with a little experience and a lot of determination, it can be easier to navigate through French red tape than the feminine hygiene aisle at the supermarket.
First, you have to be prepared for the dreaded "non, ce n'est pas possible Madame" to hit when you're most vulnerable. Like at the pharmacy in the middle of August when your doctor is on vacation and your mosquito-bitten body is screaming for an anti-inflammatory prescription. No point mentioning that back home, apartments come with A/C, and windows have screens. To get through to that blank, smug expression behind the counter, you're going to have to beg. And if you stick it out long enough and make it clear that you are a human being despite your léger accent, you'll have the double reward of getting what you asked for and seeing a wall of Parisian obstination slowly melt into winks and pleasantries. And once you get a French person to smile at you, you'll really feel like a woman.

Peter Sellers and Capucine as Inspector and Simone Clouseau. [Online image] 1963.