The Rude French: Myth or Reality?

September 4, 2009
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Ask anyone which word they would associate with “French” and chances are the answer will be “rude”. It is a reputation that is perpetrated by generations of travellers, and horror stories abound. But those horror stories often come from either people who have not travelled to France, or by people who so expected to find rudeness everywhere in France that, inevitably, they did find it.
The fact is that the myth of the rude French is often a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you’re bracing yourself for contempt and insolence, you’ll be on the defensive and may cause people to be taken aback; furthermore, chances are you’ll interpret any normal (at least, for the French) behavior as impolite. Or you’ll notice rudeness more than you would in other circumstances, because you’re expecting to see it.
Truth is, there are no more rude people in Paris than in any other major city in the world. The French may be slightly more sensitive about their culture and language than other nations, but they are not particularly anti-American or hostile. Keep in mind that France is the world’s top tourist destination, so more people have travelled there, and there are therefore more stories about it, than, say, Poland. But the reasons for the perceived rudeness in France are the same as anywhere else. Mainly, the norms are different from what we expect, and what is considered innocent behavior locally can be interpreted as rude by a visitor, or worse, a visitor can behave impolitely in the eyes of the locals.
In fact, it is quite easy, as a visitor, to be rude to locals. Rules of what is polite and what is rude are, by essence, very culture-specific. And as guests, we shouldn’t expect our hosts to make the effort to adapt to our rules. When we also make no effort to speak their language, when we criticize the way they do things or don’t show respect for their culture, we can’t blame them for telling us off.
One of the main reasons for perceiving that the French are unfriendly is that they don’t smile. That is true – French people typically don’t smile at strangers: a smile is considered a form of communication that is reserved for people one knows well, since it expresses an emotion. However, strangers exchange what I have seen referred to as “the French smile”: more like a grin, really, just pinching your lips and briefly extending the corners of the mouth. This is used more as an acknowledgment, and is completely neutral. Don’t think it’s sarcastic!
Body language is essential, as Michael R., a recent visitor to Paris from Seattle, points out:

I didn’t have a strong grasp of the language when I had visited so I couldn’t accomplish much with dialogue. I just all ways tried to maintain a positive body language such as eye contact,light smiles, and standing up tall. It seemed to help alot with what others thought of me before a word was even said.

Another comment I often hear is that “the French don’t speak English”. That always makes me raise an eyebrow: after all, why should the locals make an effort to speak a foreign language? Imagine if you were walking down the street of your hometown, and someone tapped you on the shoulder and addressed you in a foreign language: you would understandibly be taken aback. That’s what happens to many a Parisian in the summer. So make an effort to learn the basics of French (hello, please, thank you, excuse me, can you help me, goodbye) and people will be so flattered that you try that they will switch to English to make it easier for you. And if they correct your French, don’t take it the wrong way: they consider it an honor to help you improve it. Jaime B., a young professional from Arizona, tells this story of an impromptu French lesson:

I my last moments of my most recent trip to France, my taxi driver spoke to me in French, and I tried my best to respond, noting that I am still learning the basics of the language.  He offered to help me perfect my pronunciation during the commute.  During our lengthy, rush-hour drive, I would read passages from my lesson book, and he would correct me.  He asked questions about the material and insisted that I answer in French.  It was the most valuable French lesson, err, taxi ride, ever.  As he dropped me off, he reminded me to bring my lesson book when I returned to France, so we could work on conjugation.

(Here it should be noted that the first French person you may encounter, the cabbie at the airport, has a very high probability of being grumpy and unfriendly. In their defense, they just spent several hours in line waiting for a customer, so we should cut them some slack.)

French people appreciate so much when you address them in their language and observe their social norms, that they will often go above and beyond the call of duty to be helpful. Jaime tells this other story:

During my first visit to Paris, I found myself lost on the Metro.  Very lost.  As I sat in my seat, on a train bound for anywhere, I wanted so badly to ask someone for help.  All of my pre-trip exposures to the legendary reputation of the French flashed in my memory, starting with cartoons I had seen as a child, and ending with what I would later realize to be scenarios of tourists with high expectations, and locals responding with the same shock that I would have, if I was in their Luis Vuitton shoes.  Back on the train, I could feel the crease between my eyebrows tighten as I looked back at the map.  And then it happened.  A woman leaned toward me, and asked, in English, if I was lost.  Relieved by her volunteerism, I told her where I wanted to go.  Do you think she told me how to get there?  No.  She escorted me off that train, onto another, and to the next set of turnstiles.  She left me there, and wished me good luck, with some simple directions that I quickly forgot.  In seconds, a small child asked if I needed help.  I told him what I was looking for.  Again, no directions.  He told his father he would catch up with him later, and walked me to the platform.  He smiled, and literally skipped off.  Once I reached my destination, I rose to street level.  I stood, staring at that worthless map, and a street sweeper asked me if I was lost.  I was starting to think it was obvious.  I told him which museum I was looking for.  He said it was a little difficult to find.  He left his broom leaning on a tree, walked me to the museum, and asked for one ticket for the young lady.

I have driven strangers across the city in my car when they have asked me for directions… but I have also sent a guy on a wild goose chase when he tapped me on the shoulder and asked, in English: “hey buddy, where’s the Eiffel Tower?”. I probably added to his repertoire of stories about the rude French… but hey – he deserved it.

Note: to improve your chances of finding someone helpful, try to interact with people who are not at work – they are usually in a better mood.

It’s true that France has its share of real jerks, like any country. You may encounter some in Paris like you may find them in Chicago, London, Berlin or Tokyo. Jaime concludes her story of her trip with this recollection:

It should be mentioned that the very few legitimately rude French people who I’ve encountered were world-class.  I’ve considered performing a tuck-and-roll out of a moving taxi, and held my arm to prevent myself from slapping a small few, deserving cases.  But this has been the exception to the rule.

So I can’t guarantee that you won’t encounter who will genuinely be rude. But if you follow the same simple rules of humble and responsible travel in France as you would in any other country, you’ll be pleased to find people who are happy to help and honored to have crossed your path.

Do you have stories about your interaction with the French, good or bad? Please post them in the comments!

Update: The Financial Times just posted an article along the same lines.

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French Customer Service: an Oxymoron?

August 27, 2009
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I can’t even count how many times I have heard the complaint, from expats living in Paris and visitors alike: “The French! They have NO sense of customer service! They ignore you! They don’t smile! They’re grumpy!” – clearly, every interaction with a customer service clerk ends with a fight, not getting what you want, and leaving with a sense of frustration.

Well, as a Frenchman, I can safely say that there is no point in trying to debunk that. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not going to claim that customer service in France is good, and that every foreigner (and many French people) who ever left a store with a grunt of exasperation is wrong. But with a little perspective and understanding, one can save oneself the frustration, and even sometimes get their way.

Please note that I am not talking about restaurant and café waiters here: they constitute a class on their own. With a dining protocol that is so complicated (and highly observed) that only the most proper etiquette expert would not get frowned upon by the staff, one is always bound to commit a faux-pas so horrible that it will draw raised eyebrows and contemptuous scoffs. Add the exercise in patience that waiters often have to engage into when customers make long requests in a foreign language during the rush, and you’ll certainly cut them some slack.

In a store or behind a desk, customer service clerks don’t have that excuse. They do, however, have cultural reasons for not being cheery, overly friendly, and extremely helpful like in the U.S..

The first is that a lot of people in France don’t define themselves by their job. They don’t really relate to their employer, don’t identify with their company, and don’t care about the image that they give of the brand they represent. Work is only a means to a completely different end, which is spending as much time as possible eating vast quantities of cheese, drinking wine, smoking cigarettes, and generally not being at work. They don’t want to be there, they only do it so that they can do something else, hopefully as soon as possible. Surely you can’t expect them to pretend that they like it!

The second is that ultimately, France is socialist country, where people refuse to be subservient. They reject the idea that they have to do something for someone who demands it as a right; they only accept to do something if they want to do it. Since 1789, we value our right to not obey demands, and we think that those who make those demands should consider themselves happy that the guillotine was abolished.

So with that in mind, how do we interact with customer service agents? First and foremost, one has to change their expectations. By comparing every encounter with how it would have been back home, we’re sure to end up frustrated – that is true of every encounter, in any foreign country. Seeing it as a “customer interaction” rather than “customer service” may not improve it, but at least it will lessen the resulting frustration.

The trick to possibly improve the service, however, is to try and etablish a personal rapport with the agent, if possible. Appeal to their emotions, rather than their duties; make smalltalk, crack a joke or two, be friendly (without taking too much of their time, if they have other people to tend to). Tell them about how awful that other store/office/branch/etc is, and how relieved you are to be here. Bring them on your side, you and them against The Man, whom they probably don’t like anyway (because The Man underpays them, doesn’t give them enough vacation, doesn’t let them smoke at work and imposes silly rules like “you have to say hello to EVERYBODY”). If they feel talked to like a person rather than a servant, chances are the initial “no” will turn into a “possibly” and soon into an “of course”. The angrier you get however, or the more you demand a service or threaten to call their manager, the more they’ll resist, tell you how their hands are tied (they rarely are), and start looking at you like they’re going to start a petition to reinstate the right to chase aristocrats and foreigners with pitchforks.

The ultimate strategy is to try and become a regular; then you’re sure to get better-than-average service, even by U.S. standards. Go to the same bakery every day, have a friendly chit-chat with the same clerk, and you’ll be sure to be called by name after a few weeks and get the freshest baguette they have.

But getting to that point is rare and difficult; most of the time, the best strategy is to choose to not get aggravated by the agent’s lack of desire to be helpful. And to keep in mind that this treatment is not only reserved to foreigners – we French get it too. Just a few days ago I walked into a salon de thé, where a young lady was at a table doing crosswords. Not being greeted or helped, I stood by the door, waiting for someone to come in from the back room… after a few minutes, I asked the lady if someone was working there – she got up with a scoff and said “well duh, yeah, me, can I help you?”. I’ll let you imagine what went through my head.

This case was particularly bad, though. Usually, with a little friendliness one can get a fairly pleasant interaction. And it’s all a matter of different perspectives: to me as a French person, I feel that the customer service in the U.S. is just the result of training and conditioning, that there are strict guidelines as to what to do and what to say, but that the agents are just going through the motions, to avoid being fired. One can agree or not with this perspective; but I must admit that at least it’s more pleasant being greeted with a smile!

Ultimately, as in every interaction with an individual in a foreign country, the key is to use a bit of humility and cultural relativism. And if in spite of that you still have horror stories to relate, we’d love to hear them in the comments section!

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The art of standing in line: understanding order in chaos

August 27, 2009
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One of the frequent complaints I hear from expats living in France is that “the French don’t know how to stand in line”.

According to many foreigners, it seems that as soon as waiting is involved, the French resort to immediate pushing, shoving, cutting in line, stepping on toes, and general utter disrespect for the simple rules of who got there first. Understandably, this is a cause of frustration for those who are used to patiently waiting for their turn.

I remember seeing a huge photo at my cinema theater that illustrated this perfectly. The photo was taken from the first floor of the theater on the day of the first Fete du Cinema, where you could see as many movies as you wanted for 24 hours for the price of one ticket. The street in front of the theater was entirely packed with people funneling into the front door, coming from all directions but all facing the same way. Bizarrely, while everyone seemed eager to get in, nobody seemed angry – it seemed perfectly normal. Luckily, this kind of situation is the exception, but in still happens on a lesser scale: for example, while upon disembarking the plane in the U.S. you have to stand in a neatly organized, snaky line to go through immigration, in France people form a large cone in front of the passport control desk, blocking the corridor and joining the “line” by attaching themselves to its sides rather than to its end (one could argue that these are actually foreign and not French people since we don’t have to stand in line upon returning to our own country, but for the sake of this article we will consider that this line is French-managed).

It’s not that the French were never taught this basic social skill – in fact, social etiquette is extremely important in France. But our perception of time and space is different. Specifically, French culture, like many other Latin countries, is a polychronic culture, as opposed to  monochronic cultures which are more common in Anglo-Saxon countries. This concept was developed by the renowned cultural anthropologist Edward Hall in 1959 and describes a culture’s behavior with regards to the passage of time.

Monochronic societies tend to perceive time as linear and structured; polychronic ones consider that is made up of arbitrary units that can be filled with many different things. The most obvious result is that in the U.S. or in Germany, punctuality is a virtue; in France or Italy, it is just a vague suggestion. Another manifestation of this trait is that people may take on diverse tasks at the same time: for example, they may answer their email while they talk on the phone, or a store clerk may help several customers at the same time. While the customers may have arrived one after another, the clerk may greet and help each one before being done with the previous. In fact, in such a culture, a customer may find it offensive that the clerk wouldn’t help them even though it is not “their turn”: they would feel ignored. The linearity of service is therefore disrupted – and lines are unnecessary. QED.

Many French businesses do recognize that a structured line is more efficient than organized chaos, and have put in place the same kind of corralled line systems we are used to seeing in the U.S., but if there is no spatial limitation to how the line forms, you will probably see lines turning quickly into funnels.

One has to admit that the multi-customer approach can be more efficient though. For example, at the post office there is a line specifically for picking up packages. The attendant will take the slip from one customer, go to the back room and return with a package. Then she will take the slip from the next customer, return to the back room, and bring back another package. And so on. She could easily take three or four slips at a time and save herself several trips… but the instructions at the post office are clear: one customer at a time!

Note that the French are not the most polychronic and the Americans are not the most monochronic, as there are those cultures that exhibit these cultural traits even more. For example, I was standing at a gate at the Frankfurt airport once, waiting to board a plane to Mexico. The German travelers were standing in a perfect line starting at the door, equidistant from each other, waiting patiently – while the Mexican travelers were happily chatting all over the waiting lounge. The attendant came to open the door to the plane, then remember he had forgotten to make an announcement, so he left the door open and told the first Germain passenger in line to hold on for a minute. As soon as he left his post, a mob of Mexican passengers was rushing through the door, only too happy at this opportunity to be boarding early – while their German counterparts were watching in shock and still patiently waiting in line as they had been told to do; and I was in the back laughing at this clear example of cultural differences concerning waiting in lines.

As a Frenchman who has lived in the U.S. for an extended period of time where I became used to a more monochronic form of service, I must admit that I also get frustrated with the multi-tasking trait of polychronic cultures such as my homeland, France. In Paris I was recently at my desk once, and realized I needed an important piece of information from the colleague sitting across from me before I could give a customer an answer. I asked him for this information, he listened attentively… and immediately proceeded to make a phone call completely unrelated to my question. I looked at him with my jaw hanging, trying to refrain from using profanity: I had just told him that I needed that info right now and he goes off to do something else that could have waited! But sure enough, when he hung up he gave me the information I needed. It was going to take him a minute to locate it on his computer… so he figured he might as well use that time to address another issue on the phone while at the same time looking up the information I needed on the phone. I hated to admit it, but the system worked.

Understanding this cultural difference is not the recipe for eliminating the frustration associated with it, but it is certainly a first step. Unfortunately, the best recipe in this case is patience, and adapting to the behavior of the other people in line (nudging others out the way with your shoulder while blatantly ignoring them). Feel free to confront someone who cuts in front of you – they’ll most likely apologize and make up some silly excuse (”I’m sorry, I didn’t see you!” – yeah, right…). Just don’t get upset: address them calmly, lest you want to be considered the crazy person! Say: “Hi – it seems you haven’t seen that the line forms over there, not here” (pardon mais la queue commence là-bas, pas ici), and this does not open any argument and they will go to the back of the line.

As a side note on lines in polychronic countries, you may also be uncomfortable by the proximity of others in a formed line: the person behind you may stand as close as a foot from your back. A great trick to avoid this is to carry a backpack, possibly filled with a thick sweater. It’ll buy you a foot!

Most importantly, as always with cultural differences, it is important to distinguish a cultural trait from the individual character of a the person. Don’t assume that someone who does not follow the ‘line rules’ of your country is necessarily a jerk, it could just be the culture of the place. Or, perhaps this person cutting in line is afterall a jerk. Yet, that is okay too. There are jerks in every country and we’re likely to run into them eventually.

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French restaurant etiquette

August 27, 2009
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If there is one thing that is universally known about the French, it is that they take their food seriously. What is less known is that they take their table manners seriously as well.

Get between a Parisian and his foie gras and you may get a disgruntled “pshah”; fail to follow restaurant etiquette, and you will get odd looks and snooty service. Okay, maybe not; we’re not that rude (at least, not all of us are) but if you do obey these simple rules, you’re sure to be perceived as very considerate, impress staff and other guests, and receive respectful and cordial service.

Walking in
 You will notice that oftentimes, restaurant doors in France open inward (as opposed to outward in the U.S.). It is because restaurants are one of the few exceptions to the common “hold-the-door-open-for-the-lady” rule. The gentleman in the party should be the first person to enter the premises, to ensure that they are suitable for the lady. If your party consists of more than one couple, one of the gentlemen will have to play the role of the “host” and walk in first, asking for the table, indicating the number of people in your party, whether you have a reservation, etc.

The role of the host
As mentioned above, one of the party members will be the “host” of the table (even if the tab is then paid collectively!). This person will be the contact person between the waiting staff and the party. Generally speaking, this person will take care of all the “administrative” parts of the meal, so that it can be invisible to the other guests who can then focus only on the dining experience itself. After asking for the table, and approving, or possibly disapproving, of its location (the waiter will usually turn to the “host” and ask “is this table ok?”), the host will be responsible for ordering all the “collective” items like wine (more about that later), water, bread… and eventually, the tab. For someone else at the table to do any of this would be a usurpation of the host’s responsibility. Therefore, if you are the designated host, be attentive to the needs of the table: make sure that glasses are filled and that the bread basket is full. The wait staff will leave your table alone once the food is brought; if anything else is needed, it is your responsibility as a host to make a discreet gesture to your waiter to get attention. Usually, eye contact and a nod or a quickly raised forefinger will suffice. Again, the presence of the wait staff should be as invisible as possible to the rest of the party, and just limited to taking their order and bringing it.

Ordering food
French meals follow an immutable order which is not necessarily the same as everywhere else: appetizer (called “entrée” in French, don’t let that confuse you!), then main course, then possibly cheese (always after the main course), then dessert (always sweet after savory). Restaurants will accommodate you if you want cheese before your main course, but you will probably get a raised eyebrow from waiter who will not understand why you would do that! It is commonly accepted for a couple to share an appetizer or a dessert; however, it is expected that each person will get their own main course. Feel free to taste from each other’s plate, but don’t get one plate for two, especially in nice restaurants where it is assumed that you go to enjoy the food, regardless of the cost. If you are concerned about quantity, feel free to specify that you would like a small portion. However, be aware that French portions are a lot smaller than their American counterparts, and that you will most likely finish your plate. In fact, whereas finishing your plate in the U.S. sends the message “there was not enough food and I am still hungry”, not finishing your plate in France will send the message that the food was not good! If it’s the case, certainly don’t feel obliged to eat it all… but if it is good, try at least to finish the “main” part of the plate, i.e. the fish or meat, and leave the vegetables / garnish.

Ordering wine
After all the entrees have been ordered, your waiter will ask the host which wine you want. Be prepared for this question, which always comes after all the courses have been listed by the guests… because the choice should depend on what everybody orders, so that the wine goes well with everyone’s food! If you’re unsure what to order, you should at least have an idea of the wine budget. In that case, point at a price around what you or the party are willing to spend and tell the waiter “I was considering something like this…”. He will understand the clue and make a recommendation with a similar price.

The waiter will then bring the wine to the host and, if it’s bottled, expect the host to taste and approve it. No need for you to smell the cork: all it smells like is… cork, and only an expert nose can detect if the wine has gone bad from smelling the cork. When the waiter pours the wine in your glass, swirl, sniff and sip it: if the bottle has gone bad, you’ll know right away. In that case, it’s ok to send back the bottle, for which you will not be charged. (If it tastes funky but you’re not quite sure, feel free to ask the waiter to taste it as well, they’ll be able to tell you for sure if there is a problem with the bottle.) The waiter will then serve everyone at the table… and leave. It is then the host’s responsibility to make sure that all glasses are full, and possibly to refill them.

Manners
French table manners are a little different from American ones. Entire books have been written about them, and you are certainly not expected to observe them all, but notice how people at other tables may have different manners from what you are used to. In particular, notice how they keep the knife in their right hand after cutting and use the left hand to bring the fork to their mouth. If a dish doesn’t require a knife, the fork (or spoon) is held in the right hand, but the left hand is always kept on the table. Again, you are not required to observe all these manners, save one: don’t be the loudest table in the restaurant! Without necessarily hushing your voice, try to not significantly stand out in terms of volume. Like it or not, loud outbursts are a sure way to get dirty looks from other tables.

Ordering the check and paying
Again, it is the “host” who should order the check – for someone else to do so would send the message that they are bored and want to leave as quickly as possible. Don’t wait for the waiter to bring you the check as soon as your last bite is off your plate: make eye contact, and make a gesture in the air with your hand as if you were signing. Even if the tab is shared, the host should centralize the money and pay, possibly explaining to the waiter how much change is needed for each share or how much should be charged on each credit card. Tipping is not necessary: 15% is already included in the total! It is customary to leave small change (<1€) for normal service, and 1 or 2€ for good service.

Sounds like a lot to take on? Don’t worry: as much as observing all these recommendations will make you a perfect guest, not following them will not get you kicked out! Ultimately, it shouldn’t be a constant effort for you, and you should be able to enjoy your meal without feeling like you’re under constant social scrutiny! It is important though to be aware of the French norms, so you can expect behaviors and not end up in an uncomfortable situation. So don’t let different behaviors offend you, be yourself, and above everything, enjoy the delicious food French restaurants have to offer!

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