Thoughts on Culture Shock

So...it's been awhile. What can I say, I'm too busy having a ball to write about it. I will try to do a better job of recording my exploits in the future.

Last week was fun; nothing especially important happened, but I am loving these four-and-a-half-day weekends. I decide on something I want to buy/do that is in a really remote place in Paris, look up how to get there, and then spend a few hours exploring that area. I have now ridden metro lines 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9, 10, 12, 13, and 14--leaving 3 bis, 5, 7 bis, 8, and 11. I plan to have this completed by the end of next week.

I spent Saturday in Chantilly with my program--it's a town with a pretty castle and not much else, so the seven hours we spent there were more than sufficient. When we got there at 10 a.m., the fog was so thick that we couldn't even find the castle, but it cleared while we were on our seemingly endless tour, which would probably have been more interesting if a) it had been in English, and b) we hadn't seen 12 versions of the same room with the furniture rearranged. The gardens were worth the trip, though (pictures are up).

Sunday I explored the Marche aux Puces in Clignancourt: it's just barely outside Paris city limits and the entire town turns into a massive flea market system every week from Saturday morning until Monday night. Highlights included T-shirts that said "I Heart My Ghetto" (I saw this shirt and several variations more than once), multi-colored knock-off Yankee hats with the logo in cursive (although I can't imagine they're making much money off those at this point), and classic Jaguars just hanging out in the street waiting for someone to buy them. I didn't take pictures because I was afraid of the ramifications of photographing something without buying it, but I plan to go back with a wingman who can pose in front of things.

Then tonight I went to Catholic mass. I'm not Catholic and I'm not French, so I had no idea what was going on, but I went with a French (Catholic) friend, so I followed her lead. Interesting things I learned: Catholics take Communion every day (I thought it was just every Sunday), the French tu-toi (use the informal "you" when speaking to) God, but vous-voi (the formal "you) Mary, and a Catholic church is an "eglise" (translated into English as church), but a Protestant church is a "temple" (translate into English as just what it looks like). Anyway, I guess this is the official church of the Sorbonne, because they had kind of a youth group-esque meeting (sort of like the Newman Club at Trinity, I guess) for all Sorbonne students afterward. I actually had a terrific time struggling through explanations as to what I was doing there.

Also, it is SO hot here. It was 80 degrees yesterday! Unfortunately, I spent two hours of this lovely day in a classroom built for 30 people but containing 40, with all the windows closed because people were making noise outside. You can guess how long it took me to stop paying attention.

Now, on for some important cultural differences that I think need to be addressed:

Personal space
It should come as a shock to no one who has ever met me that I like to have a certain amount of air between me and anyone near me. The French have no interest whatsoever in respecting this barrier. Without fail, I meet someone and stick my hand out to shake and am awkwardly met by the person leaning in for the cheek kiss-kiss. I understand that this is how people greet each other here, but seriously, if I don't even know you, keep your face away from my face. This extends to pretty much all aspects of life: the seats on the metro are built such that anyone with legs cannot sit in them without awkwardly entangling his legs with those of the person across from him. I am not a large person, but even I cannot sit in a metro seat without being all up in everyone else's grill. Also, in the event that a lot of people want to take the same metro at the same time, there seems to be no problem with packing people in there until they literally fall out when the doors open. The upside to this is that there is no way you will be pickpocketed during the trip as no one can move.

Water
Just to provide an example, my host family goes through two carafes of water every night at dinner: one for me, and one for the three of them. I drink at least a bottle of water, usually two, during my classes. I have a water bottle in my bag at all times and refill it multiple times throughout the day. I am the only person (besides every other American in my program) for whom this is the case. Maybe I spend too much time around athletes who need to be properly hydrated, but I just cannot figure out how the French subsist on the 12 ounces of water they seem to imbibe per day. I mentioned this to my host family at dinner the other night and my host mother told me that a study recently came out by a French nutritionist that advised the French to drink water during the day but not at meals because that would help them keep weight off. If this is true, it would explain a lot. Nonetheless, I continue to drain a small ocean every day to keep myself hydrated.

Peanut Butter
They hate it here. My host mother bought me some as a gift from a store that sells only foreign food, but not before referring to it as a "cochonnerie" (which derives from the word for pig and is generally pretty derogatory). My host father literally runs from the kitchen when he sees me ruining his jelly by adding peanut butter to it for a sandwich. When I mentioned it to my French friend, she said she did not understand Americans and asked if it was true that we had cheese in a can (which I do not think is fair, because yes it is true, but I do not feel that these two snack foods are on the same level). I have been devouring it.

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