WTF?!--What the French Read online

  That moment is the peak of a French party. If your guests leave without jumping with their arms up in the air, the party—no matter what the guests may say—was just a little underwhelming. A party climax in France is all about the jumping.

  Extra cool points will be scored by those raising only one arm. This tricky maneuver is typically employed by smokers or people holding a drink. Double score if you can hold both a cigarette and a drink while raising one or two arms. You are obviously incredibly coordinated and so, indeed, just plain cool.

  Some social groups have decided not to let their Frenchness deter them from owning the dance floors. As such, they have specialized in a specific type of dancing, which incidentally will give them away immediately. Here are a few of these other types of dancing à la française:

  Dance le rock and you are no doubt about it un bourge—spawn of the dying breed known as the proper French Catholic bourgeoisie. Rock dancing can be fun and sometimes impressive to watch. Usually, however, even when fully mastered, it is rendered with no rhythm whatsoever. Mechanical masterpiece, groove tragedy.

  Dance la tectonique and you’ll be viewed as un jeune—a youngster. Older people will lament that, in their day, you didn’t dance on your own; you had a companion. Young adults will look down on you for mastering something they don’t, and that reminds them they’re no longer on the cutting edge. They will try to bust one or two moves, jokingly. French soft hilarity typically ensues.

  Dance le hip-hop and you’re une racaille—a hoodlum. While twenty years ago outliers would faire du modern-jazz, now the new generation of young French girls fait du hip-hop. In all fairness, though, it should be noted that, thanks to the spread of hip-hop culture, France is home to some of the best hip-hop dancers in the world.

  On the subject of dancing, one thing has become clear to most young French people: Les Américaines, elles dansent comme des putes—American girls dance like prostitutes. Young French boys will join in with awe and excitement evident on their faces, while French girls will offer some of the most disgusted-looking Gallic shrugs of your life. Contempt and jealousy combined will do that.

  At that point, they’ll go back to the dance floor acting like they’d rather be somewhere else.

  Compared with many other cultures, the French culture does not grant a significant role to dancing. While many French girls take dance classes in their childhood and find dancing fun, most Frenchmen dread it. The dance floor at a typical French wedding will frequently be filled with women only. Occasionally, a few girls will try to drag their dates or husbands out of their chairs. Actual pulling will occur. Usually unsuccessfully.

  Frenchmen prefer to stay seated and drink the night away with their buddies: “J’aime pas danser. Putain, pourquoi elle m’emmerde?” (I don’t like dancing. Damn, why is she bugging me?)

  Useful tip: If you are a good dancer and a woman, you will become the center of attention on any French dance floor.

  Sound like a French person: “Moi j’aime beaucoup danser mais avec Michel, c’est vrai que c’est pas tous les jours!” (I love to dance, but with Michel, it’s only once in a blue moon!)

  BLOWING AIR

  Among humans, most communication is nonverbal. Among French people, however, a fair bit of the nonverbal communication remains mouth-centric.

  While unmistakably French mouth shrugs are a well-known Gallic trait, another essential mouth movement escapes the sagacity of most visitors and observers.

  That movement consists of blowing air.

  Short of an attentive study of the French air-blowing ways, foreigners will miss the bulk of the small refinements that make up the richness and depth of social interactions in France.

  Several emotional states can be expressed much more conveniently through blowing air than by using words. Blowing air can mean a number of different things:

  “I’m impressed!” To show that you are impressed, curve your mouth, both corners pulled downward (think sad smiley face). Keep your lips relaxed. Then push air out gently through the tips of your lips. Once. A small, lean sound will ensue. Accompany this sound and movement by a nod and/or chickenlike tilt. That, right there, is French for “Wow—that’s amazing.”

  “I have no idea.” French people typically have the answer to most questions. In the rare occurrence that they happen not to, they shall express it through air blowing. To achieve a nonverbal Je ne sais pas, repeat the movement explained above and add to it a concomitant shoulder shrug. Nothing more, nothing less.

  “I’m frustrated.” Acting frustrated being so quintessential to Frenchness, it is key to be able to recognize and communicate that state of mind efficiently. Fortunately, it is a piece of gâteau. The pattern is as follows: Inhale through your nose; then expel that breath through the mouth in a generous, continuous, louder-than-usual blow. Once this general frame is understood, small variations will open the doors to truly blending in. In order to capture or express the wide palette of the French forms of frustration, one must focus on two things: the level of intensity and the shape of the lips.

  If the frustration is mild, the blowing should be discreet and quiet. It accompanies disappointing or unpleasant news. Marc is gonna be late again. Pff . . . That move is typically directed at no one in particular. It has more to do with inner monologue than with deliberate communication. The person doing this disappointed iteration of “blowing” is usually hardly aware of it. It is often a habit that could be interpreted as evidence that this Frenchie feels she is being faced with yet another confirmation that, indeed, no matter what, life always ends up sucking.

  As the blowing gets louder, the person moves toward performance mode. Either to express strong disapproval or to seek an unlikely form of French bonding born out of a moment of shared frustration. I want to share with you but not to the point of actually speaking with you. For example, the line at a supermarket is not moving much. Start a loud blow, and as the air comes out, turn to other people in the line and shake your head—as you keep blowing. Instant French bonding. All sorts of French facial expressions will be directed your way in response, ranging from the sad face nod to the eyes-wide-open awkward smile. At that point, you are almost family. Control of one’s lips is crucial to conveying the right message to your audience. The looser the lips are, the more likely the resulting sound will resemble the noise emitted by a horse. This is French nonverbal for “I can’t believe this crap.” On the other hand, if no leeway is given to the lips and the air gets released in a clean, controlled, and non-horselike fashion, that right there will reveal exasperation.

  Air blowing is an accentuated phenomenon among two communities in France. Teenagers—who are generally exasperated by most things. And Parisians—who also are. Chances are that, after reading this line, most Parisians actually couldn’t refrain from releasing a state-of-the-art horselike blow.

  Now you know.

  Useful tip: Don’t try this at home.

  Sound like a French person: “Prt.” (Prt.)

  FRENCH RAP

  France has for some time been the second largest rap market in the world. The early nineties saw the takeoff of rap as a mainstream form of music, and through radio and TV stations targeting young people, rappers like MC Solaar, IAM, NTM, Doc Gynéco, or Le Secteur Ä brought rap to the French masses, especially the younger masses.

  Regardless of the region or social class they grew up in, almost all French twenty- or thirtysomethings today can recognize and sing along to the rap hits of the mid-nineties. French rap did create the anthems of a generation.

  Care to listen to some? Just look up these songs on YouTube:

  “Pose ton gun” by Suprême NTM

  “Ma Benz” by Suprême NTM featuring Lord Kossity

  “Le bilan” by Nèg’ Marrons

  “L’amour du risque” by Fonky Family

  “Gravé dans la roc
he” by Sniper

  There is nothing more precious than attending a party and being offered the privilege of witnessing upper-class French kids sing along about fistfights, dealing drugs, and wanting to shoot cops in the ghetto. The mainstreaming of the margins really is a beautiful thing!

  The interesting aspect of this massification of rap as an art form is that it gave not only a voice but also an ear to a certain sector of youth. The banlieues became more visible, more audible. Their struggle, their frustration, their anger, and their aspirations too became a part of the French cultural and social landscape. Rap acted as a link between one France and another.

  At first, while mainstream American rap had taken a turn toward big cars, guns, drugs, money, and babes, French rap remained more engaged in denouncing social injustice. However, slowly but surely, things shifted and, just like its American counterpart, French youth too found itself bombarded with images and messages of big cars, guns, drugs, money, and babes. Elevating stuff. Check out the song “Boulbi” by Booba on YouTube to find out more.

  Other lovely ideas started to sprinkle French rap songs, one of the most popular being hatred for France. In the French hood, hating France, the French, and sometimes more generally white people—and claiming it loud and clear in rap songs—will score you some cool points.

  Needless to say, when millions of young people listen to such messages day in and day out, it shapes the future of a country just as significantly as any lessons in school. Thankfully enough, the Internet happened. On YouTube, rappers that the media (particularly Skyrock, which had become the main radio outlet for rap music in France) were not promoting started to have a voice and began to grow an audience. New names started to gain popularity. Their messages were different from what the radio had been blaring for almost two decades, closer to the more conscious messages that had previously been popular. French rap had become not an enlightened voice for underprivileged French citizens, but instead a tool used by a few to spread a culture of violence, idiocy, hatred, and low morals among youth. But now a new rap offer was on the market, promoted by rappers involved in the new Internet subculture not beholden to labels and advertising budgets.

  Today, French rap is at a very interesting point with a genuine dichotomy slowly appearing: on the one hand, vile mainstream rap, pushed, supported, and funded by the mainstream media,* and on the other, a new generation of YouTube rappers, with hundreds of thousands of fans, rapping much more conscious and educated messages.

  For some examples of this, just look these up on YouTube:

  “Le loup dans la bergerie” by Zirko

  “Don’t Laïk” by Médine

  “La rage” by Keny Arkana

  Useful tip: Le rap in “verlan”—a form of banlieue argot that inverts the pronunciation of words—is referred to as le peu-ra.

  Sound like a French person: “Oh, le rap, moi, ça me casse les oreilles!” (Oh, rap—I can’t stand it! [Literally: It breaks my ears!])

  BEING SERIOUS

  Ask anyone who’s been to France what they think of French people and most will soon enough use the word sérieux to describe them. This national trait takes two main forms:

  The inability to laugh out loud. Very few French people have the ability to burst out laughing. The act of laughing in France is generally measured and almost completely silent. A French person laughing typically resembles a person smiling while having a short outbreak of the hiccups. That’s plenty fun for the French.

  Being quiet. Nothing horrifies a French person more than witnessing the noise level generated by a table of Americans in a French restaurant. Particularly if they’re having fun. It is not uncommon for French people to whisper when out to dinner. Ne pas déranger les gens—not disturbing people—typically ranks pretty high on the objectives list of a French person going out.

  Consequently, many foreigners view the French as cold. But the truth is, they are simply well trained. Your traditional French education is not one that cuts a lot of slack for a disruptive child. In most families, children are constantly reminded of the rules of savoir-vivre: “Tiens-toi droit” (Stand/sit up straight), “Ne mets pas les coudes sur la table” (Keep your elbows off the table), and “Parle moins fort” (Don’t speak so loudly) are injunctions that most French children will have heard hundreds of times by the time they reach their teens. While American parents tend to favor the “It’s okay, honey” or “Hey, buddy, why don’t we try this instead?” approach, French parents typically stick to slightly drier versions: “Ça suffit” (That’s enough) or “Arrête” (Stop) being the most common. Smooth operating!

  Growing up in France means being constantly reminded of rules, limits, and boundaries. Typically by your parents, but occasionally the old adage “It takes a village” rings true and aunts, uncles, teachers, or even complete strangers chime in with “Dis-donc, ça ne se fait pas, ça!” (Hey, that’s not done!). The result of this culture of high expectations for children, enforced without apology, is that children tend to be quieter, probably more well behaved, and not as out of control as they can be in other countries. A few years down the road, the result is a country filled with people frequently characterized by an obsessive adherence to rules, a common inability to relax and let go, and generally terrible moves on the dance floor!

  Useful tip: If you’re a loud laugher, keep it up! Most French people secretly envy you!

  Sound like a French person: “C’est un sale gosse, qu’est-ce qu’il est mal élevé!” (What a little brat—such bad manners!)

  LA RANDO AND LOOKING FLY

  Frenchly enough, the number one sport practiced in France is strolling.

  Hiking, or faire de la randonnée, often shortened to faire de la rando, is a hobby that fifteen million French people indulge in regularly.*

  The culture of strolling is deeply rooted in French culture. From the promenade digestive to the promenade en famille, the French like to walk around with no precise goal other than that of enjoying life. “On va se balader?” is an invitation frequently heard in France—one that can mean “Let’s go for a walk” or even “Let’s go on a trip somewhere.” Balades and promenades are about wandering, enjoying the views, the fresh air, the sights, and the people watching.

  Randonnées have more of a sporty undertone to them. While going for a promenade or a balade requires no special preparation or gear, partir faire une rando—going for a hike—typically requires planning, equipment, and minimal conditioning. France is home to countless options for the avid hiker. Close to ten thousand miles of trails offer a tremendous variety of options, with varying levels of difficulty. The pantheon of the French randonneur is the GR20 in Corsica (GR stands for Chemin de Grandes Randonnées). It involves several days of strenuous hiking and stunning views in a common vacation spot for French hikers looking for a challenge.

  The aging French population finds in la rando a great way to stay active while enjoying themselves at a minimal cost, although the growing popularity of the sport has led many to invest in gear. Sports gear chain Décathlon developed the Quechua brand for hikers. Over the past decade or so, millions of French people have started wearing Quechua products—les vêtements techniques, or technical clothing—which are perceived by most as good value and well designed. They started sporting Quechua shoes, Quechua jackets, Quechua backpacks . . . not only on their hikes but also in everyday life.*

  Most French people who practice physical activity qualify as sportifs du dimanche, which is an ironic and demeaning term meaning “Sunday athletes”—i.e., not really fit, not really shooting for high performance, but still going out there, at least for an hour or two on Sunday. Weekend-warrior types. Most sportifs du dimanche like to discreetly tell the world about their sportiness.

  Ultimately, wearing Quechua gear is very modern French self-assertion: it’s not only about sporting a convenient and inexpensive item of clothing; it’s a
lso about telling the world that you don’t do fancy or over-the-top, that you don’t care much for appearances, and that you’re all in all a humble and outdoorsy person.

  Maximal Frenchness achieved.

  Useful tip: The surest way to identify a Frenchie traveling anywhere in the world? Look for that Quechua logo!

  Sound like a French person: “La rando, ça me fait un bien fou.” (Hiking does me so much good.)

  ÇA VA

  French—some say—is a difficult language to learn. That is, if you forgo one essential rule: the generous usage of the phrase Ça va equates to fluency. Full mastery of this rule makes French speaking a remarkably approachable endeavor.

  Ça va. Literally: “It goes.”

  SITUATION 1. A TYPICAL FRENCH CONVERSATION GOES AS FOLLOWS:

  Salut, (insert first name), ça va? / Hey, X, how’s it going?

  Ça va, ça va, et toi? / Good, good, and you?

  Ça va, tranquillement. Comment ça va au travail? /

  Pretty good, nothing special. How are things at work?

  Oh ça va! / Okay, I guess. Don’t really want to

  talk about it to tell you the truth!

  Et la famille, ça va? / And how’s your family?

  Ça va, tout le monde va bien. / Yeah, everyone’s good.

  Et le travaux, ça va? / How’s the construction going?

  Ça va mieux! / Yes, it’s going better!

  SITUATION 2. SOMEBODY FALLS ON A SKI SLOPE. ANOTHER SKIER STOPS TO CHECK ON THE PERSON:

  Ça va? /Are you okay?

  Ça va! / I am. Thanks!

  Sûr, ca va? / Are you sure?