So, I've now had a full week of teaching under my belt. Much to my surprise, it's all gone relatively smoothly and so far my fears about nightmare students have been mostly unfounded- all of the classes I've taught have seemed interested and eager to learn.
That said, there's always one or two 'characters' in every class, and it doesn't seem to be any different in France. I've started most of my lessons with a simple activity stolen from another assistant at our training day where every member of the class introduces themselves with two facts and a lie about themselves, which unfortunately didn't take too long to backfire on me. Upon asking the first student in the class to introduce himself, he smirked and said;
"Hello- my name is Bastian, I am 15 years old and I really like English people."
Nice to meet you too, Bastian. That said, this quintessentially French kind of politeness is something I've been growing used to in the few weeks since I've arrived. After holding a door open for a fellow teacher the other day, she laughed out loud at me and said that no-one in France had ever done that for her before, before shouting at a bemused-looking colleague across the room;
"Il est... un gentleman!"
For the record, there is a French word for 'gentleman' (gentilhomme) but these teachers admitted that they don't really use it very often... because you don't meet French 'gentlemen' very often. Or ladies, for that matter- apparently the French just don't do 'manners' as well as the British. And while I don't particularly want this post to descend into mindless frog-bashing,* it's not particularly hard to see why.
*I do really
The word 'manners' does exist in French (manières) but that's another word they don't seem to use very much. Nope- the French much prefer their etiquette, which may initially seem similar but in reality they couldn't be further apart. 'Manners' are holding doors open so they don't slam shut in other people's faces, giving up your seat to the elderly on public transport and closing your mouth while eating so not everyone has to watch you chew your beautifully prepared lasagne up into a disgusting saliva-drenched slurry.
Etiquette, however, is something different- a set of largely inexplicable social practices that seem to have no tangible benefit apart from giving snobbish highbrow types something to sneer down their noses at perceived lesser beings for. Etiquette is sticking out your little finger while you drink your tea. Etiquette is having two different forms of the word 'you' which serve no purpose apart from mortally offending people when you get it wrong. Etiquette is la fucking bise.
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| What a Frenchman would probably look like drinking tea |
La bise was something I didn't know much about before I came to France, which means it's proved to be a bit of a social minefield for me. In case you were wondering, la bise is the name for the French tradition of cheek-kissing when meeting people, and it's a very prominent part of the national culture here. The first thing I learnt about it once I arrived was that it doesn't actually involve cheek kissing- more a cheek-graze and a puckered-up air kiss over each shoulder, which somehow feels even more ridiculous than it sounds. The second thing I learnt about it is that even the French don't seem to understand it completely.
The main issue is that there doesn't seem to be any particular defined 'first cheek.' I've tended to go for left cheek first, as from what I've seen so far that seems to be how most people do it and so it's definitely the safer choice. But this isn't universal by any means, which leads to all sorts of awkward moments when you're trying to greet someone you haven't met before and your faces collide mid-pucker.
The general consensus amongst the English seems to be that la bise is the sort of ridiculously stupid tradition that only the French could come up with, so our group has mostly resorted to greeting each other with hugs instead. Far easier. But having talked to a number of French people about it, they've unsurprisingly all disagreed with me, defiantly insisting that it's a good way to break the ice. Which is bollocks.
It breaks the ice with new acquaintances in the same way the Titanic probably left a bit of a dent in that iceberg- it doesn't really matter how much metaphorical ice you've broken when your bise faux-pas has just sunk your budding friendship in a murky sea of awkwardness before it ever really had a chance to begin.
(PS: very sorry about the shameless title. Here's a picture of some birds too so you don't feel quite so misled)
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