When I moved to France two years ago as an expat, I arrived with no negative assumptions about the French. Not really! Eight years living in Mexico, on the other hand, had armored me with a perhaps slightly old-fashioned attitude toward the French originating in the country’s leading high culture during the European Renaissance. Thus, Latin Americans in general see the French as highly educated, intellectual and refined. And while the French would probably be pleased with and still agree with this aristocratic perception of them, even before they became familiar with the more tainted stereotypes of the French circulating in the rest of the Western world, the latter had sneaked up on me, and yes I definitely found foie gras loving people to be lean, elegant and, sorry, unmistakably rude. Most French people not only refused to help when politely asked or even paid for in shops and restaurants, but they were also unapologetic about it, smiling back at you with a frown, abruptly cutting off calls from wrong numbers at the phone, refusing to cooperatively share sidewalks and public streets, and pretending to know no English when they know perfectly well (yes, the French speak English well!), and so on.
Thus, as I slowly adjusted and made do with the daily misery in enemy land, the world suddenly changed in front of me. It was never clear whether it happened overnight or gradually over the course of a nine-month pregnancy.
However, now equipped with a fresh new baby, it became clear that French soil was suddenly no longer a hostile ground to tread. Goodbye to sullen looks and arrogant and aggressive people, and hello to sunny eyes and giant smiles. Regardless of gender, age, and ethnicity, Napoleon’s successors respectfully doubled the pavement to make room for the little newcomer, stood in line to brace the doors of a struggling stroller, shushed their toddlers because “shh, the little baby is sleeping,” they offered to hold the baby. in those desperate moments, and most notably; constantly stopping in the street to admire, ask questions and play with your baby. Like the miracle of a tiny newborn, the French had become the most loving, helpful, and caring people one could wish to be around.
Why this momentous transformation?
To be sure, the French have a soft spot for babies because they’re also big producers of them. Shortly after the much smaller Ireland, France has the highest fertility rate at 1.94 children born per woman (2005) and is expected to be the most populous nation in Western Europe by 2050 according to a news report published in the French magazine L’Express. in May of last year. And for a long time, the Gauls have been famous for their “joie de vivre” and openness towards eroticism. Hence, more than a newborn could represent the quintessence of loving living and living loving. Another probable reason for the affection of the French towards children is that the French live in a family society in which its members are better able to reconcile their professional and private lives than their European counterparts. They work fewer hours (35 hours a week compared to the 48 hour limit in the UK), have more job security, enjoy free childcare and health cover and, not to mention, receive generous leave parental. In addition, expectant parents are positively encouraged and meticulously followed up with information and monthly medical treatment throughout the pregnancy. Children are out of school on Wednesdays and working parents have the option of staying home the same day.
However, the image that the French have of a large part of the neighboring countries that surround them and of foreign visitors cannot be denied. In May of last year, a British poll reported that the French were overwhelmingly voted the most hostile and least generous nation in the world, and just three years ago, in May 2004, Lonely Planet conducted an online poll of independent travellers. and discovered that France is considered the “least hospitable country” in the world. The same year, a report published by Bernard Plaisait, a member of the upper house of the French Parliament, concluded that French staff are surly, lack professionalism and do not regard the customer as king.
Not surprisingly, French natives insist that they were never rude in the first place, but suggest that their romantic “bad mood” and refusal to engage in long conversations, which they consider superficial, is misunderstood for snobbery and hostility. They will remind us of their established and still sacrosanct etiquette on the streets of France, such as greeting politely before engaging in any type of conversation. When such formal codes of conduct are ignored, they will be perceived as an insult to the face and will therefore be responded to in the same way.
An old saying goes that “he who loves children and dogs has a warm heart” (in France, dogs are allowed in most hotels and restaurants and are always greeted with a bowl of water), so maybe it is after all the rest of the surroundings. world that is wrong about the French.
My own personal faith in the friendly French was sealed once and for all last week when a tattooed young man dressed in army combat pants and a pierced eyebrow approached me and my girlfriend at the train station. train from Antibes and insisted on taking the load off the four of us. hands and proceeded to carry my stroller up two long flights of stairs. What better example of a tough demeanor covering a softer interior!
Soon my expat days will be over and I will be leaving Terre Francaise and returning to the UK, but I will always remember the French with great fondness as people who at any time or day would find time to make a stranger’s baby smile.
As a new parent, you need not fear, as if you visit France with a baby, you will instantly find yourself in a much more affectionate sphere than the cold and snooty one the French are often so infamous for. You may not be treated like a king in France, but you will be treated like the King’s companion, which is not bad at all.