Quintessentially French

So far in Paris we have made our way to a few iconic landmarks. Despite visiting these awesome pieces of history perhaps my favorite thing that we have done together as a family has been to watch illegal immigrants run from the police in front of the Louvre. Although I was unable to catch this most interesting display of affection on camera it was quite entertaining to watch. For those of you that are not educated in landmarks of Paris or find the thought of anything French repulsive here is a picture reminding you of what the Louvre actually is.

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No the Louvre is not the pyramid it is actually the palace behind.

Dave’s 101 guide to spot illegal immigrants in France:

Step one:
Look for people that are selling miniature Eiffel towers calling out the catchy phrase “One Euro! One Euro! One Euro!” and shoving a ginormous keyring full of Eiffel towers hanging from a chain like a mace in your face.

Congratulations!You have found your first illegal immigrant, or rather they have found you.
Now go back to your hotel and change outfits because you look too much like a tourist. And lose the flip flops. Your are not at the beach and are going to be doing a lot of walking in the city. Save yourself the embarrassment and the blisters and leave them at home. Graphic tees will also give you away before you say your first mispronunciation of bonjour.

To avoid future targeting do not look them in the eye and they will typically bug off. If you speak English to them you’re done. It would be easier to appease the monster and buy an Eiffel Tower to get him to go away. A simple no in the snootiest accent you can muster will suffice.

Now to more entertaining stories of Paris and a cute baby picture.

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This morning I encountered perhaps the most quintessential French person I have ever seen. He really fulfilled every stereotype that I could have ever thought of. He wore a black vest with a white tee underneath, black pointy shoes, black slacks, and or course a black beret. All this plus a slightly curled mustache and he looked like the guy that would appear next to President Obama, or as I call him, the Barakness Monster, in your wildest nightmares wanting to try you in their next socialist experiment. Don’t worry it is a volunteer experiment only.

Just like this outfit many stereotypes do seem to based on some portion or kernel of truth. Typically it is then twisted through emotion and preconceived notions to form a powerful image for all to misunderstand. Despite what your previous thoughts of the French are, here are a few things that I can say about the French at least from the portion of them I have seen thus far and I will be as cut and dry as possible to get you back to your most important life from which this blog has distracted you.

One: The French are not that rude. You just do not speak French. Ps. Nobody said you had to be good. They do just appreciate the effort.

Two: The French do not like typical Americans. AKA the ones that do not speak French. As before, a little effort goes a long way.

Three: The French do not like immigrants. (At last, Dad! You have something in common with the French.) Especially ones that do not learn French. Americans tend to have the same opinions of Immigrants in Florida.

See a pattern? No?….. Ok I’ll continue.

The French have certain polite mannerisms that all should use. Guess who doesn’t…. You guessed it! People that do not speak French. They are very easy to learn: whenever you buy something or are addressing someone, say bonjour, merci, and au revoir. Not too complicated, and the results are pretty impressive.

Here’s the deal:

The French are people too and they have a culture all their own and they are proud of it. Respect is all any of us ask for as humans. Ask in French and you shall receive. À la prochaine,

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5 responses to “Quintessentially French

  1. Note to self: Learn French for whenever I go visit!
    Sounds like the place can be quite humorous to see. And something to get used to!
    Once again, I loved to read about the adventures of the Hyer family in France. I know I will be looking forward to more stories about the journey that has just begun.

  2. Pingback: Let’s play a game… | This Wandering Life·

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