Living in Paris, France

Finally, after a month of agony and isolation, we are connected to the outside world with all the comforts of modern technology. Somewhere there, in between, we had a couple of floods, burst pipes, loose wires and all those things that strangely happen, just as you settle in to a new house in a new country. You find your whole family gathering around the strange looking magical plastic box with several important looking buttons, trying to figure out, which one should you press to turn off or on the electricity or adjust the water pressure.

This was our family’s fifth move and we have sort of established a routine with the foreign obstacles along the way. Unfortunately our learning has mostly been done through multiple mistakes.

            I enjoy the excitement of shopping in a new country. The shopping becomes more of a treasure hunt experience than a bi-weekly chore. You also change your shopping habits to accommodate the local produce and therefore your cooking changes as well. We live in France, the culinary Mecca of the world. Shopping here is easy; hardest part being not to buy too much, because everything looks so delicious.

Paris is absolutely beautiful and, well, what can I say; the best place I have ever lived. Our little city of Saint-Cloud is just on the other side of Seine. The Parisians called it the wrong side, but the people of Saint-Cloud are proud of their little periphery heaven, so close to Paris and yet, so close to Parc de Saint-Cloud, where the brother of Louis the XIV had his own small château.

French people are amazingly friendly and extremely polite. I really cannot understand, where did the urban legend of French people being rude came from. They are exactly the opposite. Many of times when I have been reading my little map, being completely turned around and lost, a person passing by has asked me if they could help me. There is also etiquette to be followed in shops and in busses: You have to say good morning when you enter a shop or hop on a bus. Also you have to say goodbye when you leave a shop regardless of the size of the shop. Even on Rue de Rivoli near the Louvre, on one of the biggest shopping streets in Europe, you need to say goodbye, when you step out the door – to the doorman or to the nearest person working at the store. I love France for that – the need to acknowledge a person and give your respect to them by saying such a simple thing as ‘Au revoir.’

I am living again with a dictionary permanently by my side. I am taking French lessons and doing my homework diligently. Sometimes I feel my brain beginning to fry when I am thinking which verb should I use and then, how to conjugate that particular verb correctly and still keep up a lovely conversation. Luckily French people are very helpful and extremely patient with foreigners trying to learn French. For them your sincere effort is enough.

I did learn a new word in French while shopping in a mobile store with my Canadian friend Josée, who graciously translated for me.

The word for a stamp in French is – Tampon.

Really! It truly is. I am not making this up.

I was standing by the desk in a mobile store after signing my cell phone contract, looking at the pile of papers, when the young sales man asked me, if I needed a tampon. I stared at him for a while with a vacant look on my face, because honestly, nobody has ever asked me that question before in a mobile store or in any other store, come to think of it. The young man thought, that I did not hear him. ‘Madame, do want me to get you a tampon?’ He repeated.

‘I really came here just for the cell phone. Thanks, but no thanks.’ I answered, my eyes wide open.

Josée was by then pulling my sleeve, whispering to my ear that the young man only wanted to stamp the contract papers. Then she spoke to the young sales man and explained him what I had thought he had said, while I was leaning against the counter, giggling hysterically, wiping tears from my eyes. The poor young man....I have not seen such red cheeks for the longest time. He really did not know what to do with the papers anymore.

Embarrassment and laughter; two ways to ensure learning new and useful words in another language.

My husband and I have been biking in Paris every weekend. We have found the Asian markets, small wine stores, copper pot stores and our favourite cafes. The first weekend he took me around the Arch of Triumph. We biked around a street corner and stopped at the red light. He was staring at his Garmin GPS and said, ’Next traffic circle, take the seventh exit.’

I thought about what kind of traffic circle could have seven exits or more and then I looked straight ahead, past the red light and my mouth flew open. ‘It’s the bloody Arch of Triumph!’ I screamed.

‘Oh, so it is.’ Said Mr. Cool when he finally looked up from his GPS and then he laughed. ‘Off you go, the light is green.’

I have never been so scared in my life. I stuck to the outside edge of the circle and tried to avoid being killed by busses, taxis, Parisians driving their red Ferraris and honking madly at me...Needless to say my husband laughed the whole way and suggested that we’d do it again....just for fun. My answer was, and still is, ‘NO!’ I survived the madness once and I will not tempt my fate any further.

I always smile when we bicycle through the Louvre. I feel like a child at Christmas time, opening a surprise gift. It’s amazing to be living in Paris and to be able bicycle around Louvre, along Champs-Élysées, past the Eiffel tower, Notre-Dame – all of those landmarks that I have read about before, but never ever did I think that I would live here and bicycle around these magnificent landmarks as a local.

Last Saturday I just had to stop for a while to admire the view. The Eiffel tower on my left, Cleopatra’s needle on my right and Louvre behind me.

Well, it cannot get much better than that.