les francais

outside at the soiree--le viande de la nuit was le porc. confession: i just couldn't bring myself to eat it.

mes amis francais: Eduard, Fabrice, Lecto, Bernard, Jonathan

Hi lovelies.

last night, i went to my first french soiree, a birthday party for a friend of a friend. the party was held at a lycee in autun, a small city about 70 miles southwest of dijon. the drive there was absolutely beautiful--the sky was dark as rain was coming, but the countryside was verdant and full of glittery streaks of light. i thoroughly enjoyed les vaches.

here, things are very different socially. to "enter" into a group of francais, you must be formally presented, or introduced. and, once you have been introduced (read: inculcated), you are one of them. plain and simple. regardless of the fact that you can't understand a word they say. you meet a group of people friday night. and if all goes well, you stick by them again saturday night. groups quickly form, but they're hard to break into if you make too many faux pas. true french friendships are more intense than american ones in that friends are like family--you fight with them, curse them, but would do anything to save their face because you love them just that much. (kinda an intimidating environment to be an outsider in, non?)

when you walk into a room, you must greet everyone in that room with two kisses, if you are a woman, and a correct presentation. also, the people to whom you are introduced will remember your name, so it's best if you know theirs also--or at least have some idea of what it's supposed to sound like when pronounced correctly. and, when you leave, you need to be sure to allow yourself a full ten minutes. kiss everyone you possibly might have kissed before, and make sure to establish eye contact one last time with your host/hostess, the guy roasting the pig, etc.

***

the party was a lot of fun--beach boys and michael jackson never grow old. the food was good, the company better; i had the chance to meet even more french people, of all ages, and my comprehension is drastically improving, even if the speaking still lags. i conversed about french art and literature, and learned a lot about how the french view americans. yes, they do see us as large middle-aged men holding huge bags of McDonalds. pas de soucis, because they also think we're "super cool."

***

in short, the weekend was fantastic. friday night was a cultural experience indeed: a tour of dijon in the rain, followed by an indian restaurant and a brazilian night club (yes, really). and saturday was better--fifty real-live french people to interact with, two hours of riding in the car hearing real-time french, and getting home in time to be conversant this morning with my host family.

lessons accumulated in the past two days
1) if you see it on a spit, it's a lot harder to eat it
2) blue malibus stain
3) pretend you're canadian when you forget to kiss someone
4) smile and say "Sarkozy," not "cheese"
5) answer honestly when people ask you if you like your meat bien couilee. the answer is YES!