Francophile or francomisia

It was back to France for a little while. And as soon as we landed things felt "French," again. Something familiar yet unnerving. In all honesty there was little "foreign," feeling at all. I wouldn't say it felt like home. I will only say it felt very familiar.

But it became obvious quickly that the franco-american differences still fly around my psyche like a pesky gnat on a summer's day. Things like not being able to get a real hamburger cooked past raw. Well, "raw," may be an exaggeration, but bien cuit truly does not mean "well-done." Things like having dogs come into public places and be treated, maybe even, better than the humans. Small things. Culturally different things. All the while maintaining a sense of know-how but not wanting to "how." (NOTE: Before the English police comment, I know I have fragment phrases scattered here and there)

In between taking care of some business matters, we decided to see some old friends. It surprised us at the number of people who were on the list to visit. That is, how few people were on the list. It was a reminder just how hard it is to break into a community and be an integral part of one. We actually know people in 4 of the 5 departments of the region. And even in the small village where we lived, we were familiar with a handful of inhabitants. But we only had strong enough connections with two or three households to warrant a visit. Most of our contacts were in the context of a specific activity (like learning a minority language or cleaning a river here and there). The relationships never went to the next level. Now in our defense, several people had moved or were away on vacation and we were only in town for a couple of days. But whatever the reasons, it seems to take (for us and our experince in France) an incredibly long time to establish friendships that go beyond the surface; to have shared experiences beyond the "activity," that forms these bonds.

Some people, in light of the above statements, will want to quickly judge our decision to move as simply, "not giving it enough time." And no matter what you say or don't say, these same people will never understand unless they too have lived in France. Which brings me to the point of this post. There are francophiles and francomisians. I doubt this later word is even a word at all, but I needed some parallelism, and so I made it up. In other words, there are 4 categories of people. Those who 1) live(d) in France and love France 2) live(d) in France and hate France 3) never lived in France and love France and 4) never lived in France and hate France. Now people in categories 1 and 2 can, and often do, flip flop in and out of the two. Sometimes, they are even in camp 1 and 2 at the same time. That's just how France is. This dynamic is rare among those in 3 and 4. They, for whatever reasons, love or hate France. point final. Never do they go from one to the other or love/hate France at the same time.

It's these people that when we talk about France that I find myself almost always defending the opposite viewpoint of theirs of France. It's quite humorous actually. Their gripes and complaints against the French may be so true, but I feel like I have an inside view and a need to defend the offensive act. Then, on the other hand, there are those who have this romantic view of France and describe it as if it were heaven or paradise. Then, I just feel the need to remind them of how filthy Paris is and how public restrooms are just that, public in the sense for all to see (because normally if you are a guy and have to go in public you'll need only to find a wall and volià, you have your toilet).

It's like having special knowledge. And the only foreigners who can really appreciate your inside viewpoint are others who have themselves lived and experienced the true French experience!

Bon appetite!!