Posts from — February 2011

With friends in town who are Francophile but NOT Francophone, where can one take them for a night out? After a little googling, I discovered Olivier Giraud’s one-man show ‘How to become Parisian in one hour’. Even better, the event was at a little theatre about a five-minute walk from my apartment in the twelfth, Theatre de la main d’or, right across the road from Metro Ledru Rollin.

One can learn a lot about a culture from its humour. Think of Little Britain, or The Office (UK) or, in Australia, Kath and Kim, or Summer Heights High. But humour is often the hardest thing to ‘get’ in another language as it’s so idiomatic. So when French humour, directed against the French, is delivered in English, it’s not to be missed.

But first, fast-forward to the end of the show when Olivier Giraud explained that when he had had the original idea—stand-up comedy about the Parisians, delivered in English—theatre managers in Paris thought he was crazy. Finally he persuaded Theatre de la Main d’Or to put it on, and he’s been performing his show to 250 people several times a week for two years!

There is a cosy bar at the theatre and we arrived early and sat and eavesdropped, and were surprised to find that about 90% of the audience seemed to be local Parisians. We wondered if foreigners  were going to be dragged up on stage, and so decided to keep our heads down and pretend we were French.

Sure enough, not far into the show, Olivier asked if there were any non-French in the audience, and various people were only to happy to call out that they were from South America, Scandinavia, Rumania, USA, and so on. No one called out ‘Australia’, and although I wanted to, my son gave me a stern look, so I didn’t dare.

It was just as well, as ‘volunteers’ were called up and taught to ‘dance like a Parisian’, or ‘kiss on both cheeks’ etc, but it was all done quite gently and the volunteers seemed to be extroverted types who were enjoying themselves.

American tourists were certainly lampooned, but so too were French people. One of the main points was that American tourists smile a lot and think everything in Paris is just magnificent, but often don’t bother to learn any French. Olivier taught us to pout and look haughty, shrug and yell ‘putain’ a lot.

There were sections that were definitely NOT for children, about which he did warn us, and one woman who had brought her two children quickly left. But I was there with my son and daughter in law, and am old enough to be a grandmother, and I wasn’t embarrassed!  In fact a lot of the time I laughed till it hurt.

At the end Olivier said he plans to take his show to other countries including the USA, but I’m not sure it would have the same resonance that it has in Paris. If he does go elsewhere, though, I hope he comes to Australia, where I’m certain we have the highest per capita number of Francophiles in the world.

A friend from London says she often hears her compatriots complaining (presumably after visiting France), ‘Why can’t France be more capitalist? You have to go to about five different shops to buy your headache tablets, your newspaper, your fish, your groceries, and your bread. It’s so inconvenient.’  The people who say this must be taking as their benchmark a place like Asda, or similar superstores where you can buy absolutely everything in the one shop—food, books and newspapers, pharmaceuticals, clothes, and even furniture and household goods. I did go into one of those places once when there was absolutely no alternative, and it’s not something I want to repeat.

Maybe such places do make a country more ‘capitalist’ which presumably means more profit-oriented. But profit for whom? For the owners or bosses on their obscenely high salaries, and probably also for those gamblers we call ‘shareholders’.

But the sort of capital I am more interested in is ‘social capital’, a concept well known to those such as sociologists and social workers who care more about the quality of the lives of individuals, rather than the quantities of material gain, or profits. Social capital refers to our daily interactions, our conversations, our recognition of each other, if not by name, certainly by face. This starts to happen quite frequently, at least it seems to here in Paris, after only a couple of weeks of buying my daily necessities at the cheese shop, the coffee supplier, the boulangerie, and even in my local restaurant (the wonderful Le Square Trousseau from Paris je t’aime fame), all in my immediate neighbourhood.

Of course, these petits commercants also have to make a profit—their own livelihood depends upon it. But there is something very satisfying, that goes way beyond concepts of profit and loss, about buying my still-warm morning baguette from the people who have been up since before dawn to bake it. Or my coffee from the man who buys the raw beans wholesale and then roasts them in his shop in the rue d’Aligre, only grinding them when I have chosen the particular variety that I like.

The couple who run my favourite vegetable stall in the daily Marche d’Aligre know me as l’Australienne, and the wife likes to practise her English with me, while her husband corrects my French.

Even in my local Franprix supermarket (where I know several of the cashiers by sight, if not by name), a quick chat can start up in the (very frequent) queues. This evening, the woman in the queue behind me said (in French of course), ‘Oh your hair looks so nice and shiny!’ I thanked her for the compliment and explained that I’d just coloured it, as one of my daughters-in-law had brought from England a couple of packets of the type I like, but of which I couldn’t remember the brand. We then moved on to discussing our children’s ages (almost the same!), whether we had grandchildren or not (she does, I don’t), until the queue finally moved, and we bid each other a bonne soirée.

Superstores probably exist on the outskirts of French cities like they do in many other countries, but for people who have a choice about whether or not to use them, I think we need to stop and reflect on what sort of society we want to be part of.  As anyone who reads Wikipedia could tell us, our word society comes from the Latin word societas and before that socius, meaning comrade, friend or ally, and signifying interaction among individuals who are friendly towards one another, who give each other mutual assistance.

There are many things I love about living in the 21^st century, but uber-capitalism at the expense of social capital is not one of them.

I usually write about Paris as if all readers are familiar with it, know where to go, where to stay, have friends to visit who can show them around, and so on.  But what if it’s your first time? If I think back to my first time here, it was spent in great confusion, not really knowing what to see in my very limited few days.

I’ve just done a little research, and I think if you are in this category, and want to see as much as possible of what Paris has to offer, the Paris Pass is ideal for you. With so much included in this pass, you really can’t go wrong. The Paris Pass includes entrance to over 55 top attractions, including Notre Dame, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Musée Louvre.

One of the best features of the  Paris Pass is that you can bypass the entrance queues. Even in winter these can be long at the main attractions, and in summer they can go for half a kilometre or more. A Paris Metro pass is included with the Paris Pass, as well as a map specifically designed for its users. An audio guide explains all the facts surrounding the different places, meaning you have the freedom to go where you choose with the expertise of a virtual tour guide. You really can’t go wrong with the Paris Pass.

First timers to Paris, and indeed anyone who has not seen it before, must go to the Eiffel Tower, and there are some great  Eiffel Tower tours. I think everyone should climb up it at least once in their lifetime. I remember standing on the top level years ago with someone special, thinking (in the words of a famous Australian advertisement—although referring in that case to the Outback): ‘It doesn’t get any better than this.’

The views from each level of the tower are spectacular, and nothing else quite compares. You can also dine in one of the exquisite restaurants, or sip on a French hot chocolate whilst taking in the breathtaking views  As it’s rather cold and foggy here at the moment, the early evening is the best time, when all the lights are coming on.

Whatever your other plans for Paris, first check out the Paris Pass.