Thursday, July 8, 2010
It isn't so much that I don't want people to perceive me as an American. On the whole, I'm proud to be one. Are there aspects of our culture I'd love to change? Absolutely.
Just as when my neighbors say something to me in typically broken English, I would like the opportunity to try my hand with broken French. Last night at dinner, the waitress afforded us that opportunity. An older woman, I doubt that she has much patience for rude tourists that expect her to speak another language. She was slow and patient, and we were able to order our meal.
She, a French caprese salad, something that resembled roast pork, and a slice of chocolate tart. Moi, bean soup, boeuf provencale, and sorbet (two flavors: framboise & cassis!) I reckon it's the kind of place that only locals go to, despite Frommer's recommendation. Several people asked us questions in French as we sat at our sidewalk table outside.
Today, I resolved to do even better. It's the little things that peg you as a local or not. The tiny customs. How people greet one another. How they cross the street. How to get off the Metro train at your stop. Today, I tried to scoop all that information up and then some!
We were able to order breakfast and lunch, mostly in French. Good thing too because the boulangerie for breakfast is right across the street from our apartment in the Quartier Latin. I believe we'll be in there again. That baguette was the best I've ever had...with soft camembert to boot!
Tomorrow, a ride through the French countryside to Giverny. I'll continue with the picture taking opportunities. I believe I'll try my hand at some more intentionally out of focus shots, in homage to Monet. Impressionistic photography if you will.