Claire and I met up in the Charles de Gaulle. It was a hilarious reunion because we both arrived sleep deprived, hungry, and were both overjoyed at the sight of each other. We immediately recounted stories of our journeys: falling asleep of the Portuguese man in the seat next to us, language barriers, mistaken drink orders, nearly missed flights, etc. By the time we finished I was laughing so hard I was crying. If it had been a movie you would have seen, perhaps from an areal view, that as Claire and I warmly embraced and exchanged laughter we were in a sea of very happy but laughless French people. It would come to be a theme of our trip. We find ourselves doubled over laughing, laughing so loud it echos off the wall and down the street (only at outdoor cafes) or just chuckling at a funny something. But it is as if we are the only ones who know how to laugh. It's true that sometimes I see people laughing at us, but I don't think that counts. Really though, I have yet to see a stranger on this vacation laugh of his or her own accord. It would make more sense to me if the stereotype about French people being rude held true, but it doesn't so it doesn't.
I've always been told that the French were rude. Fact of life just like the fact that the sky is blue and Shakira is awesome- no way around it. But, on the contrary, I have found the French to be an utterly delightful bunch. Kind, helpful, very much French speaking (they almost always respond to us in French if we start in French). My mom told me something she'd heard years back which was that the better your French accent is the nice the French are to you. False. As long as you're trying, they're happy.
"How do you say this word?" We pointed to the check.
"L'addition"
"La dissition!" I said confidently.
"L'addition!"
"La dissition." I said this time more unclear of what she was saying.
This went back and fourth three times until she smiled, shrugged, and wrote it on our paper menu.
"Ohhh why thank you cute French waitress"
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