Over 20 years ago, my husband and I moved from the UK to live in a small provincial town in France. I did not realise that life was going to be so unlike the city lifestyle I was used to in Britain – after all France is not so far away. But it was when we had our children and we were bringing them up that we became more fully aware of the differences in culture and the way of doing things.
French Red Tape
It took me some time to get used to the ever-present and long-winded French bureaucracy. I left England with my passport and my driving licence. Little did I know that once I had decided to reside in France I would need the same wallet-full of documents that the French have. It was a nightmare because certain documents can only be issued if you were born or married in France.
Even to this day, there is a look of disbelief when a
livret de famille is required and I say I have not got one. Details about
your children’s births are recorded in this booklet and in some situations it is the required proof that you are a family: for example, we were once unable to get a reduction on a family pass for the ski slopes because we did not have a
livret de famille.
I clearly remember civil servants laughing when I said that I did not have an identity card: they laughed even louder when I tried to explain that where I come from we do not need one. When I showed them my driving licence, they positively howled: they could not believe it was valid because there was no photograph attached. They replaced it – at a cost for administrative charges – with a French driving licence. A photo of me is attached
bien sûr!
Nowadays, I no longer moan at red tape because so many French people themselves find it frustrating. They justify it by saying that there is a whole army of civil servants – I have seen figures referring to 1.9 million of them and others referring to as many as one in five of all those employed – who need to be occupied and paid. The issuing and renewal of documents do just that. Seeing it in these terms – keeping your fellow citizen in employment – makes all that time (and money) you spend a little easier to accept.
Proof Of Identity
The French believe strongly in checking people’s identity. If you write a cheque in a supermarket for example, the cashier will ask you for your identity card to guarantee the authenticity of the cheque. At first, this offended my sense of privacy. Proof is required every time, too. I have been unable to claim parcels at
the Post Office because I have presumed that they now know me. The simplest thing is to always carry the documents with you, like everyone else. Is that why some French men carry those little handbags – I ask myself – because all their
papiers will not fit into their pockets!
The French Approach
Things are done differently here. I was quite shocked the first time I visited a GP and he himself asked me for a cheque at the end of the consultation. The handing over of money to people in the medical profession feels wrong at first: surely, I thought, they are above collecting cheques. Nowadays, most people hand over their
carte vital too, in order to speed up the reimbursement process. I have had to accept their way of doing things: you just cannot leave the surgery without settling up. Like others in the service industry, they provide what you need and you pay.
Another problem I had was shaking people’s hands so often. I felt uncomfortable touching, and anxious about passing germs, but living in another country means looking at things from a local’s viewpoint. It is their way of acknowledging your presence.
The Language Gap
The language was an enormous handicap because when I arrived, I could only speak a few words. Even following directions on boxes of food was difficult! However, I found a French teacher and I made rapid progress during the first few years. She explained everything to me in English although some
people at the time said that since I was now living in France my teacher should only have spoken French to me. I would not have followed had she only spoken in French, leaving it up to me to guess the grammar rules and subtleties of the vocabulary.
Even after living here for so long, though, I still sound like a foreigner. As with many adults learning a new language, I have now reached a ‘plateau’: progress is slow. I avoid arguments because I cannot express myself, I often miss out on a joke and I have to have my children to check the notes I send with them to school for mistakes. But I would not call it a language barrier now because I can follow conversations without struggling too much.
The Good Life
At some point, the annoying aspects of French life have faded into the background. My struggle to master the language and the domineering bureaucracy still exist and I know that I will always have to wait for months for some local tradesmen. But the longer I have lived here the more my lifestyle and that of my family, has improved.
Food is important to the French and, nowadays, for me too. The French are concerned about freshness. Watch them chose the ripest melons or the way they run their fingers along a
camembert. Given the chance, they go out into the forests or fields to collect their snails, mushrooms and berries. They even prefer using
sarment (the small shoots that are pruned from the vines) rather than charcoal for their barbecues because it gives a better flavour. It is hard not to become a food or wine buff.
Above all, mealtime has a social importance. The whole extended family gets together for bank holidays. Evenings are spent with friends around the table. Village life means you are only a walk away from home and you do not need to drive.
I like the element of choice that is available. If I do not want to pay a road toll and I am not in any hurry, then I use the
route nationale. If I do not want the inconvenience of too many trucks, then I take the motorway and I pay the toll. In the same way, I get a choice of doctor and dentist that I prefer and I can usually get to see them when I want – that is to say, without too long a wait. I can contribute to the school life of my children if I choose because each class has two parent representatives.
Bringing Up The Children
Above all, the richest adventure for me has been that of bringing up my children here because the experience has made France feel like home to me. Listening to my children reciting poetry, memorising historical dates and geographic facts and viewing incidents from a different perspective through them, has given me a better understanding of French culture and their approach to life.
Moving abroad – even just across the Channel – is not the same as moving across the street. I have had days when I have been caught up in some misunderstanding or another and I have also had to do things that have not seemed logical to me at all. But not for one moment do I regret experiencing how different we all are and how much we can learn from each other. After all,
c’est la vie!