Are the French Really Rude?

Teri's off at a conference in Atlanta, so I've got a little blogging time on my hands.

Before I get on the subject du jour, I'd like to bring your attention to the latest poll on the Marjorie blog (for those of you who only read these missives via e-mail). The question is "Who is most likely to have a run-in with the law on the trip?" So far Mike is winning, but Steve is close behind. I cast the one vote for Cathleen mostly because I'd like to see how that scenario would unfold. You have a few days to vote, so go ahead and exercise your franchise.

Okay, so are the French rude or not, and do they really hate all Americans (except Jerry Lewis)? That's certainly the stereotype. Here's my opinion based on my own past experience--as always, I'd love to hear your opinions on this subject (come on lurkers, be bold and post a comment at the bottom of this post).

Let me qualify all of this by saying that these are sweeping generalizations, but I'll bet you find some of this to be true.

First of all, the French are different, that's for sure.

French people do not have a "have a nice day" mentality. You can expect to get bonjoured when you walk into any shop, but don't expect French folks to be as friendly or effusive or buddy-buddy as we are on this side of the Atlantic. By and large French people are more reserved and quieter than we are and they reserve their friendliness for their friends. The French sterotype of Americans is that we're big-spending tackily dressed fat loudmouths, and I guess there's some fairness to that.

The French also have a bit of an inferiority complex when it comes to language. Just about everyone under 50 that you will encounter speaks at least some English (if only "a leetle") while we ugly Americans tend to speak only English. When two Europeans meet (say an Italian and a Norwegian) the language they will almost certainly use to communicate with each other is English. That's the reality and it bugs the hell out of French people for some reason.

If you speak even a little French, or make even a pathetic attempt to communicate with them in their language, a couple of things will happen pretty quickly. First of all, the French person you're speaking with will usually take mercy on you and switch over to English (which they generally speak pretty darn well, even if they won't always admit to it) and, more importantly, when you attempt to communicate with them in their own language, they'll warm up to you in a hurry.

At the same time, the French have a weird superiority complex. French people believe that they have the world's greatest city (Paris), the world's best food, the world's most beautiful language, the world's best historic sites, and so on. Even though all of this is generally true, any failure on your part to recognize their superiority will stir resentment on their part and that can be unbecoming.

So are the French rude or not? Well, a lot of Parisians can be perceived as rude, but in exactly the same way and for the same reasons that a lot of New Yorkers can be seen as rude. Paris is a big city filled with busy people. They don't have a lot of time to waste on dumb tourists who don't speak their language.

But I think you'll find, as I have, that the minute you get out of Paris, the French people you encounter will be much more open and welcoming and just flat out charming.

In our trips to France, I can't think of many encounters we've had with rude French people, and I can think of many, many times where French people have gone out of their way to be nice to us.

Here's just two: When Teri and I went to France for the first time, we spent a day power touring Paris. I realized that it was something like 1:30 p.m. and my breakfast croissant was long gone. I was starving--in fact my blood sugar was crashing. We stumbled into a random bar/cafe. This was a real local place that clearly wasn't used to the tourist trade. When the waiter came to the table the only word I could think of to say to him was "manger" the verb to eat. He got this frightened expression and fled. He came back with the owner of the bar who spoke a "leetle English" and with a very French smile told us not to worry. "I will bring you the plat du jour and then maybe dessert, but I think maybe no."

That was it, no menus, no ordering.

Instantly bread and a carafe of red wine materialized at our table. Moments later we were served the first (and still best) cassoulet (see photo at right) we have ever eaten, which we devoured like ravenous wolves. He was right--we had no room for dessert. The total bill was only a few dollars (less than $10 as I recall, but this was something like 15 years ago when the dollar was really strong against the franc and the Euro had yet to be invented).

As we walked out, the barflies saluted us and the owner wished us a "happy holidays".

Okay, so that's not much of a story, this next one's a little better.

On our second trip to France Teri and I were staying in the city of Carcassone. We walked to a nice little mom and pop restaurant a few blocks from our hotel. And when I say mom and pop, I mean that literally. Mom manned the front door while pop was the head chef. The place was supposed to be pretty good, but the food was way better than that. The meal was superb, and when we told Madame that we wanted local wine, local dishes and local cheeses, she got very excited and they went all out. It was one of the best meals of my life, but here's the capper: when it was time to leave the skies had opened up and it was raining cats and dogs. We asked if they could call a taxi for us, but Madame wouldn't hear of it. Instead the chef/owner, still in his kitchen outfit, drove us back to our hotel himself.

When was the last time a chef in the good old USA drove you home after your meal? How's that for the rude/unfriendly French?

Finally, if you've read this far, you deserve a medal, but I'll give you a travel tip instead. If you want a chance to find out for yourself if you like French people, I strongly advise you to go solo a for a few hours a few times during the trip. It has been my experience everywhere we've traveled that people will approach you when you are by yourself or if there are, at the most, two of you. But when you are traveling in a herd, people are much more reluctant to make real contact. So be brave and strike out on your own. I guarantee happy surprises will result.