Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Break A Leg
I had my i rst insight into the value of this French soft spot for pets
when I became one. No, I wasn't on a leash. I was on crutches, having
broken my ankle rushing too fast down the seven l ights of stairs from
my little
chambre de bonne
.
After nursing the swollen ankle for two days, my
guardienne
, who
was keeping me supplied with hot soup and the mail, escorted me
to a local clinic. I walked back out on the street with my torquoise
coloured cast and matching
bequille
(crutches) to a different Paris.
French strangers stopped me to express their condolences and
offer assistance. Four lanes of trafi c would stop silently on a green
light so I could hobble across the street. In the restaurants, the waiters
rushed to clear my way to a convenient table. Everyone expressed
their genuine sympathy.
In my building, neighbours who had never said more than
'Bonjour, Madame' in ten years suddenly offered to let me access
my little servant's room via their apartment and their elevator. A taxi
driver offered to take me to my cancelled appointment in Moscow,
for free. (He said he'd always wanted to go, anyway.)
I was incredulous, but here's how I i gure it: in becoming helpless, I
became a pet, totally dependent on others. The French are remarkably
attuned to that.
In the Gallic view, life is hard, cruel and ugly. It can be made to
appear beautiful and pleasant and every step should be made to do
so. That is why it is important to the French that things look so well,
regardless of the chaos and deterioration the beautiful facade might
cover up. But friendliness? Friendliness is reserved for those who
merit the effort: family, friends and the helpless.
In a hard, cruel world, little pet animals are totally dependent on
humans for their survival. They require our generosity. They cannot
be taught to be tough, as children can; they can only beg for mercy.
So it is with people on crutches.
The opposite was true when I got on the plane to go home. I took
an American carrier. Boarding at Charles de Gaulle Airport, I got the
typical American treatment of people on crutches. I was ignored,
unless I asked specii cally for their help.
My advice? Break your leg in Paris. Just remember to watch out
for the dog droppings.
French friends are always talking on the telephone, always
discussing their personal problems in detail and always
planning events together. Yet the French will rarely analyse
the relationship between the two of you.
They prefer to discuss other things, like politics, art,
fashion and events. Such discussions lead to an exploration
of difference points of view. Disagreements? Great. Your
Search WWH ::
Custom Search