La langue Francaise

I love the French language so much (which helps with my degree) yes, it’s ridiculously complex sometimes with far too many tenses and sentences to say what can be said with one word in English, but that is partially what I love about it! It’s almost like going back in time to Jane Austen’s England when they were very wordy! Also the way the French speak is fantastic, not only their accent (a French person saying ‘so British’ will never fail to make me smile) but also the musicality of when they speak. The French don’t believe me, but to the English French is a very musical language. They also detest the word ‘like’ and Britishisms which are everywhere in France now. In a way I agree with the academie francais (a group of old French men who decide what words are allowed in the dictionary) in refusing to acknowledge pretty much all foreign words, like walkman. But sorry academie, I think you’ll find Jeans and denim were French words to begin with before Levis took them over!
The way they imitate others when they speak is fantastic too, and reminds me of being read stories when I was little and every character had a different voice and way of speaking, well every day is like that in France! Whether they’re giving their teacher a high nasal voice or imitating the accents of other French speakers, it’s a delight listening to them!

French music

I have just realised something I love about France. Why has it taken me this long? And I don't mean why has it taken me so long to realise I love something about France, because obviously I do love loads of things about the country. I feel bad that the bad experiences have taken over my blog, it's not all bad, I promise! But on to my recent realisation:
The music. Ok, French music is, in general, bad (I hesitate to say awful or terrible, because some of it isn't, but... well. It's not amazing.) But the attitude towards music is amazing! Let me explain.

There is no concept of christmas music. Something anyone who has ever worked in retail will appreciate, as there are not non-stop christmas songs in the shops. But it also means that you get songs like 'last christmas' playing at random times of the year. Like October. Or February. Or in the summer. Which, for the hilarity as you realise that a Christmas song is playing while you're reaching for a tin of sweetcorn in the local supermarket, is fantastic!

There also seems to be no real concept of 'unfashionable' (for I can't find another way to describe such songs) music. So you will get songs that you danced to at school discos 10 years ago played in clubs, which everyone still loves. Even when it's not retro or cheese night. Also I don't think they have a concept of cheese. I LOVE the French attitude! I hate the English attitude which sometimes amounts to 'why do you like that band/music/song? They were from ages ago. You have therefore less of a person than I thought you were'. I knbow this thinking is supposed to be secondary school thinking, taken straight out of films like Mean Girls, but apparantly some people still think like this. If you are one of these people, I have no time for you.

There is also the law that over a certain percentage of songs must be French language on the radio, which seems pretty silly, but I still love it. There are also songs which are from other countries than England, U.S. or even France. Which is brilliant and an attitude we should have in England, they don't understand the lyrics. And they don't care. (Which hilariously results in Lily Allen joyfully singing 'fuck you' to a crowded shop)

Basically, the French attitude to music rocks!

The smell of France

I’m not talking about the cheeses, although some of those are intense. I’m not talking about the lovely smell of a bakery, or the delicious smell of roti chickens in the market. I’m talking about the unpleasant smell that you can’t escape no matter where you are, the smell of urine. It is a rare and wonderful thing to find a public toilet in France which doesn’t smell of piss. Which is why you normally have to pay for the pleasure of an unscented toilet. The first thing that reminded me I was in France when I landed in Lyon airport after the Christmas holidays was the smell of the toilet. But it’s not just toilets. Possibly because of the extreme lack of public toilets in France, people pee in the streets. Often. So often that walking around a French town for 30 minutes you are nearly guaranteed the sight of someone urinating in the street. And not necessarily against a wall. I’ve seen it done off the bridge into the river, and as I had the... pleasure... of seeing the other day: a man facing and peeing into the middle of a busy pavement. It could be related to the lack of toilets, or it could be because they leave dog poo on the pavements and think ‘why can’t I leave my waste in the road too?’ disgusting, I know. And the smell... if you want an idea of what the roads smelt like before plumbing, certain streets in France might give you an idea.

Mr Inexplicable

I don’t even know how to describe this guy, he was so weird. Me and Claire went to a club on Valentines night (where we saw a girl with 3 guys circling like wolves, it was very cave-man like, I was waiting for one of them to knock her out and drag her back to his cave) and at the end of the night we got the metro, all very normal. As soon as Claire got off this random guy came and sat opposite me. Worried at first about random French guy, I ignored him and one stop came and went so I thought he wasn’t going to say anything. Then he asked me out. I said no. Then he spat on the floor and asked me if I was sure. You know what, I didn’t want to date him at first, but that display of masculinity made him SO much more attractive. I said I was sure and breathed a sigh of relief as my stop had arrived and I could get as far away from him as possible.

Guy #2. Mr I’ve-Heard-Women-Like-This

This is an example of the man who has read a ‘what women want’ manual and is testing it out without realising he’s not being natural (or charming) at all. I was at a house party and having a rest from dancing, a guy came and sat next to me and started asking me questions. It felt like I was on a gameshow or something. “What’s your name?” “Kiera, wha..” “where are you from?” “England, wh..” “Why are you in Lyon?” and so on... Someone had obviously told him that women like talking about themselves and this was what he was counting on. Although I have no explanation for what he asked me after question time was over and he had ‘got to know me’: “what do you think of me?” “what?” “what do you think of me?” “ummm... I don’t know” “do you want to kiss me?” “what? No!” Maybe he was just feeling lucky.

French Man #1. Mr Scary-Following-You-Home

I’ve actually had 2 of these, which makes me really glad I live next to a metro stop. The first was during the first term, I was just getting back after a night out and was about to open the door to get into the residence when there was a sudden voice behind me saying ‘excuzez-moi’ I jumped with fright, spun round preparing to attack this man who had silently crept up to me and was by this point about an inch away from me. Luckily I have an English accent and was able to tell him that I didn’t have a French mobile when he asked for my number. Well, it could have been true! The second guy was in the second term, I was getting a very early metro home after a house party and was, obviously, dressed for the night time at 6AM. Again, was just about to go through the door when a guy who was in front of me turned round and asked me something to do with drinks, I misunderstood and thought he was asking where he could get a drink (no sleep, somewhere between drunk and hungover, my listening skills aren’t fantastic at the best of times). Eventually I understood that he was asking me out for a drink with him. He was about 40.

French Romance

Let’s start by saying that everything you think you know about French men is probably a lie. They are not suave, smooth or charming. None that I’ve met anyway. They can range from the ‘casual look’ man wearing a scarf or jumper knotted around the neck (a look which is shockingly popular in France- they don’t understand what the ‘preppy/gay look’ is over here) to the Mediterranean highly-styled, designer-clothes-wearing, man-bag-carrying highly metrosexual man most commonly found near Italy. And these are just the men you might consider dating, there is a shockingly bad selection in France! There are the pervy men who stand around all day doing nothing but harassing every woman they see (to the point of following them because they simply have nothing better to do). There are the French version of chavs who are normally white guys not really understanding that the American style ‘gangsta’ needs to be black for him to be taken seriously. And then there are the guys who actually don’t seem to know how to talk to women. I’m not talking about the guys who completely freeze when they meet something with breasts, I mean the guys who have read an online manual of how to talk to women and want to practice their new-found ‘skills’. To demonstrate my points, I’m going to describe some of the men I have encountered during my time in France in my next blogs over the following weeks.