Vive La Difference!

The French are different from us. They know it. We know it. I have always been fascinated by this, ever since my mom sent me to French lessons at the age of 5 along with my older siblings, taught by an American war bride, come to a small northern Wisconsin town.

One of the best books, aside from "This is Paris", was another little one, I suppose a child's version of Wicked French, that had phrases such as, Il y a un dragon dans mon lit! There is a dragon in my bed. Well, a useless phrase, but exciting nonetheless. An excerpt from A Guide to the French by Elaine Sciolino:

It is hard for French merchants to admit they are wrong, and seemingly impossible for them to apologize. Instead, the trick is to somehow get the offended party to feel the mistake was his or her own. I’m convinced the practice was learned in the strict French educational system, in which teachers are allowed to tell pupils they are “zeros” in front of the entire class.

A doctor I know told me he once bought a coat at a small men’s boutique only to discover that it had a rip in the fabric. When he tried to return it, the shopkeeper gave him the address of a tailor who could repair it — for a large fee. They argued, and the doctor reminded the shopkeeper of the French saying, “The customer is king.”

“Sir,” the shopkeeper replied, “We no longer have a king in France.”

No, but every Frenchman feels himself a king. And every American feels himself a free man. Vive La Difference!

Read on. Great story about a turkey and foxes. But eat hamburgers with a fork? Never.