The differences between France and the USA are many. Vast and varied, and I cannot possible list them all. When I moved to France over twenty years ago I had no idea what I was getting myself into, I was naive, a late bloomer, very much in love, and did not give anything too much thought. I jumped and often never looked back. But when I arrived in France, Paris to be exact my self identity was the first thing to sink. I was lost. French Husband would leave for work every morning at 7:30 a.m. and return around 9:00 p.m, or as they say in France 21:00 heure. I tell you those beginning days were long, money tight, no friends or family and without many words in my pocket. It wasn't a honeymoon.
I was and still am often asked, "What was it like moving to France? What do you miss most? Which do you like better? And wasn't it hard to leave?"
Let me tell you this… If the internet and blogging were available when I first arrived in France I would have written a very different type of blog. Happy would have been a long lost word. Yes, I was in love…. but every difference I saw became my reality…"I am here for the rest of my life?" And French Husband with a few English words in his pocket would hold my frustrations, doubt, bitterness, aloneness and failing self identity in his already full hands. It was an unpleasant job.
Moving to France, away from my big American family, leaving my friends and job, learning the French customs (One being: How to keep my hands on the table and not on my lap), the language and the lack of support from my French family… nearly killed me. Sometimes I think having cancer was easier. Childbirth certainly was.
Nearly every French person has a dog. I was afraid of dogs.
Baking sugar is not served in coffee or tea, sugar cubes are.
Eggs are brown, and twenty years ago rarely in egg cartons.
There wasn't a cereal isle in the grocery store. I missed Cocoa Puffs of all things.
Milk came in boxes on the shelf.
When you serve bread it is placed above your fork, on the table, when you eat bread you pinch a piece off you do not bite into it.
The first floor is called the "ground floor" the second floor is called the "First floor".
Counting with your fingers you start with your thumb as the number "One".
Then there was the French Franc- I had to learn the value of the France without translating it into dollars. Once that was conquered the French Franc was changed to the euro. I am lousy at math.
Forks are upside down when set at the French table, hence the pretty side of French silver is on the back.
Another little difference, but the little differences were everywhere and they threw me constantly in left field:
When greeting someone I never knew what cheek to kiss first, and who to kiss and who not to kiss.
Mums are only given as a flower for the deceased.
It hit me the very first day I was in France that I had to learn all these little things and more, If I wanted to be fluent in "living in France" so that when we had children I would to be able to teach my them how to be French with an American twist.
The Tooth Fairy is not the one who brings money for the tooth lost in France. No-no-no, it is a mouse. What a bummer that was… a Tooth Fairy is magical. A mouse….well it is kinda cute at a distance… and it is gray.
When a group of French people would start talking, it sounded like birds singing, and my mind wandered.
When greeting someone one says: "Bonjour Madame, or Bonjour Monsieur", if one sees them later in the day one does not say Hello (Bonjour) again instead one says, "Re-Bonjour"..and if one does say "Bonjour" again one will receive a look like, "Are you crazy, you already said Hello to me once today." I looked crazy most of the time.
And guess what (?) "See you later" really means "See you later".
Seasons…. constantly becoming, changing yet remaining the same, growing up…
One thing is certain; Little girls all over the world play with dolls….
Having a family created a safe nest for me to spread my wings.
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