I (heart) France

I loved this idea which I think started with CancunCanuck, began to take shape with Mexpat and really took off with Ale.

Basically it goes something like this:


“Dear Expat: Stop bitching about where you live for one second and instead write up 10 things you love about your adopted country”


So here’s my list:
(Before hand, let me warn you: I suck at summerizing. So I'm downing it to 5 things. Otherwise you'll be here all day)


1/ Thanks to France, I’ve learned how to eat.

Before coming to France, my daily diet went something like this:

> Breakfast: none (if you don’t count the bag of Ruffles con Queso I’d chow down around 11am with my morning diet coke)
> Lunch: some greasy/fried antojito or torta eaten in a rush between classes or in my car on my way somewhere, another diet coke.
> Dinner: A quesadilla, some tacos or a pan dulce and a diet coke.

Basically, I didn’t care what I stuffed in my face as long as it was “picante” and I had a diet coke handy.

It took me a while to get used to the way the French approach the subject of food here. It’s not only about putting something in your mouth and chewing. Food is not considered Fuel for the body here. Eating must be an “experience”.

First of all there are FOUR mandatory meals in the diet of every Frenchman:

> Breakfast (usually some sort of bread w/butter and marmalade + tea/coffee + some even have some cheese or yogurt >> very few go for the industrialized cereal boxes).
> A hefty Lunch consisting of entrée AND main course (and a lot of times even dessert),
> A 4pm “Gouté” which usually consists of a yogurt&fruit or some biscuits
> Dinner (again the entrée + main course + dessert formula applies. Wine is also a must a lot of times).

But it’s not only the quantity of the food. It’s the quality that really counts. Was the butter for your morning toast bought directly at the cow farms in Bretagne? Is the bread from lunch freshly baked? Was the quiche made from scratch? Is the wine a millésime? All of these type of questions tend to come up quite often.

Then there is the actual experience of eating. The French DO NOT eat while doing their shopping. They do not eat while working in front of a computer or doing homework. And they never ever ever eat while driving (I don’t think I’ve ever seen a “drive-through” in this country). A meal must be a pleasant and a stress-free experience. You eat sitting at a table, a jug of water and a basket of bread are never far away. If you’re eating with colleagues, conversation should be about enjoyable stuff like vacations or hobbies, not nasty things like work. The meals are always (or for the most part try to be) nicely presented. I’ve known people to return a plate because it doesn’t look “appetizing”. Don’t get me wrong, eating-on-the-go is common here, but it is always considered as a last minute option, in other words something you couldn’t avoid. Like the flu.

Learning to eat this way has slowly allowed me to better appreciate the quality of ingredients, the secret of spices, the wonderfulness of tasting something scrumptious. Basically it has showed me that food is more than just that.


2/ Thanks to France I’ve finally gotten to meet the girl inside me.

I spent the most part of my college years dressed in baggie pants and huge sweatshirts. Not only because I felt comfy in them while they hid the parts of my body I didn’t particularly like but mostly because this type of attire avoided drawing attention to myself. You see, growing up in Mexico you never really wanted to “stick out”. Being original in your dress code often only gave way to being criticized and pointed at. This is why Mexican girls tend to dress the same or follow a particular fashion trend without daring to try new things or be too flashy. They follow the rules. They stay in line. At risk of being considered a freak or a "naca".

In France… It’s the complete opposite. Same is boring. Uniforms are boring. Even fashion trends are boring. Girls here are on the perpetual quest for their “personalité”. Anything goes if it means this reflects who you are. Boy clothes on girl, apparent underwear (or lack of), Chanel tweed jacket with Monoprix jeans, yellow shoes with fluorescent attire, Indian sari over gypsy skirt, if you feel this is you, roll with it. Nobody will care. Nobody will point.

This means I’ve loosed up a bit and ventured into trying out stuff I’d otherwise would have steered clear from. Progressively, I’ve gotten in touch with my feminine side. I’ve learned about the joys of accessories and the wonderful feeling of a new pair of pretty shoes. I wear skirts and dresses! Tight jeans and revealing cleaverage. Stilletto boots, long earings. Flashy makeup. Ok, so some things are not to be encouraged, but that’s beside the point.

The important thing is living in France has given me back the confidence to dress however I want and feel good about it.


3/ Thanks to France I have learned a great deal about geography

I have never met people more interested in seeing as much of the world as the French. Perhaps this has to do with the fact that they have so many vacations that they can afford to travel once, twice and sometimes even three times per year! Whatever…. the fact is, in France very few people associate “vacations” with staying at home and watching TV.

Vacations are made to get away, see greener pastures, get some fresh air, “se changer les idées” (literally, to change your ideas). Except for the mandatory ski trip during the February holidays, the French take every opportunity, be it as small as it may, to hit the road and see something new. If it’s a three day weekend they hop on a train and go explore some little town in the Loire or check out the seafood in Dauville. If they have the money, they’ll head out to London or Madrid to party, take in a museum or two and visit friends. Most of the times, the destination doesn’t matter for short trips like these… the important thing is to GO SOMEWHERE.

For longer vacations (like the classical three weeks off during the summer or the two weeks holidays during la Toussaint) the more exotic the destination, the better. As long as a Routard Guide has been published on that particular place, chances are the French will go there eventually. This is proven. Even in the most remote of places you’ll ever go, I bet you big bucks you’ll bump into a Frenchman at some point.

I used to think if I ever got to see Rome, Paris, Madrid and London I would consider myself a travelled woman. The French have lured me into wanting to go to countries like Jordan and Thailand. Denmark and Namibia. Thailand, Israel, Singapore. Cities like Buenos Aires, Montreal. ..... Thanks to their irritating yet captivating recounts of their “vacances”, I know ache to go to places like the Dead Sea or the Reunion Island, the ancient city of Petra or the souk market in Marrakech. Rent a boat and sail along the Croatian coastline or cross track around the Corcega island. Ride a camel in Tunisia or camp along the geysers in Iceland.

Ok, Ok… I’ll try to shorten the last two…. Sorry!


4/ Thanks to the French I no longer have to carry pepper spray in my bag.

Ok, honestly, I never carried any in Mexico either. But this was because I always had my alert sensors up and running.

I love how safe I feel here. I can hop on the last subway at midnight and not have my heart thumping so fast I fear it’s going to explode. I can go running in the park and not fear that a pervert or a drunk is going to jump out of the bushes and try to grab my butt. I can walk down a street and not have to put up with the wolf whistling and the “mamacita” comments. I can take out my wallet at the ATM machine and not have to look three times before punching in my code.

I realize this doesn’t mean there isn’t delinquency in this country. I did have my iPod stolen once a few years back. But it’s definitely not at Mexico levels. People don’t carry knives or guns in their backpacks (something I unfortunately witnessed more times than I’d like to remember) or get into blood gushing fist fights over a mean look. The most they do is spit.


5/Thanks to the French I now know that More is not always Better

The French have a thing about what makes an object Valuable. It’s not about how expensive it is (ok, sometimes it is) or how big or how many you have of them. It’s about how good it makes you feel. If it has a history, a tale. If it comes from afar or if it’s hand made. If it it’s unique, if it’s remarkable. If it’s ancient. If it’s pretty. Af first it’s hard to put your finger on how they do this, how they see things this way.

Us expats can easily fall into the traps of the More I have, the Better… two bottles of 2002 Bordeaux for the price of one 2006 Nuit-St-Georges. Easy, go for the ancient year and the known name, right? If it’s Tiffany & Co it’s bound to make your outfit classy, right? A French might disagree. The Nuit-St-Georges might let out a particular sweet plum flavour that complements perfectly the cheese course. And a discreet antique grandmother’s charm bracelet will be so much more elegant than the quite “obviously flashy” T&C necklace. I have to admit, these are easy and quite unfair examples.

What I’m trying to say is that a French has this insane way of making something that to a foreigner would seem perfectly non-interesting….Interesting. Valuable. Luxurious.

Come to think of it, perhaps this is why they are so respected in the Luxury sector. Because they have the ability to look at a simple object and find what makes it special and unique and then portray this on a brandable scale.

Who knows? What I do know is that thanks to the French I am slowly learning to appreciate the “good things in life”.

Fned.