Saturday, October 17, 2009

Oh Yeah, You Blend

In 2009 I have traveled to places where I knew I didn't blend in and would never blend in (even if I spoke the language perfectly), and other places where I blended until I opened my mouth. I thought Paris was the later of those two options. I can blend as long as I stay silent.

Apparently I was wrong. You know, like Vinny thought he could blend in, "My Cousin Vinny." Luckily he has Marisa Tomei to set him straight; I found my Marisa too. I was standing in line the other day (to visit a touristy site; just to be clear: at this point I knew I wasn't looking Parisian) and struck up a conversation with a couple. At one point the woman was talking about a friend of theirs and said, "well, she's never going to blend in here; she's blond with blue eyes." The comment slowly worked its way into my brain, and I realized that there really aren't too many blonds with blue eyes strolling the streets of Paris (at least if you're not hanging out at La Louvre, the Tour Eiffel, or other such places where tourists congregate).

I have noticed a few blue eyes staring back at me, but maybe they're just like my eyes. Those blue eyes are darting around trying to see if there are french thoughts being held in by tightly clasped lips, or if the lips are holding back another language.

There's another give-away to my lack of Parisian status: I smile.

The french are renowned for their politeness -- each of the many guide books I've read has clearly stated that using phrases like "bon jour" "merci" "au reviour" "pardon" and titles like "madame" and "monsieur" are necessary. And it's true that I hear people say, "merci monsieur, au reviour" upon leaving most stores. However, the phrase is not uttered with a smile on the lips. In fact, few phrases that are uttered for courtesy are accompanied with a smile. A french woman the other day commented to me about how friendly americans are. And she was talking about New Yorkers, who, if we're being honest are not renowened for their friendliness in the USofA. It seems like the french make a clear distinction between polite and friendly, and only one of the two is required. So everytime I say "merci" and flash a big old smile I'm giving away my un-Parisian self in two ways -- accent and grin.

C'est la vie!

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