observations from france

Toast once said, “the French are a strange breed.” That is the most true statement I’ve every heard. As much as I love this city and its food (croissants!), I’m not sure yet how I feel about the people. They’re so diverse yet all the same at the same time. It’s so bizarre. The style here is a mix of eurotrash (hard to explain, it’s what my friends and I call the overtrendy and ugly styles here of over processed and busy jeans with ugly mullet-like hair with bad hightlights…you get the idea) and class (I’m talking everyday dressed to the hilt), the most confusing dichotomy I’ve ever witnessed. Half the time I feel underdressed even with my long peacoat and nicer shoes because I’m not in all black with stilettos or boots that go to my knees. The other time I feel like I look at least more attractive than the overdone trashy styles (esp when they’re worn by chain smokers…blah). Either way, I will never be one of them. Not unless I get some self tanner and hair dye.

I am the exact opposite physically of everyone here. I exaggerate not when I say that there are no blondes native to the south of france. Any I may see in town are most likely American like me or at least Swedish or something. The blue eyes and fair (by fair I mean ghostly white) skin don’t help much either. To be from the south of france you need to have an olive complexion and raven hair. There are no exceptions. If you want you can put gross hightlight tiger streaks in your hair, but it must be predominately black. Very rarely do you see the French as allover fake blondes. It just doesn’t happen. Consequently, I stick out, horribly so, with that comes the stares. Yes I am American. If my English didn’t give it away surely my entire appearance did. I try so hard to dress nicely but it doesn’t quite do the trick like I thought it might. It’s not just that I’m so different from them; it’s that they notice and I notice them noticing me. It’s not so fun.

The French also have a completely different demeanor than we do. They don’t smile. If you face a crowd walking towards you they will look so intense you’ll think they’re an army marching off to fight. It’s ridiculous. I tried smiling at some passerbys today and got the look that says “why on earth are you doing that” so I gave up. The stupid thing is, if you actually stop and talk to them ever they can be super friendly. There was this old lady today that just talked to us a mile a minute about her dog and how it keeps running away. We didn’t understand half of what she said but being the friendly neighbors that we are we pretended to. The assistants (French students our age that help with our program here) too are very friendly and always happy to give help. But as a general rule here, happiness is not allowed, at least not while you walk down the street. This makes me question the traditional Montpellier greeting. It’s customary (rude if you don’t) to give each other three kisses on the cheek when you say hello or goodbye to a friend (guys too). This is a very touchy feely custom for such a sullen faced people. I guess, like their style, the French are just in their own little world that I may never quite understand.