The truth is out there - Part I

Has the X-files series ever been popular in India? I have never been a fan myself but it taught me that “the truth is out there”. There is a slight problem tough: the truth is different, depending on where you are. The philosophers have found a nice name (a –ism name, the worst) for that nebulous concept: they call it relativism. My nomadic existence exposed me to its consequences: an incredibly large array of emotions, from embarrassment to disbelief, from amusement to irritation. Let me tell you my journey.

 

From Arras (North of France) to Pompadour (South West of France) – Age 7

 

Food is the landmark of regional identity as well as familial traditions. In the north of France, French fries (and its famous “baraques a frites”, which could be translated by chippies or French fry van) are an example of the rich heritage that “Ch’tis” (people living in the north of France) cherish with great pride. My family is no exception to the rule: we eat French fries every Saturday for lunch. It is a mandatory culinary rendezvous of the taste buds, a celebrated calorific orgy and a weekly tribute to the god Potato.  

 

Saturday is also a great day for pupils as schools’ bells ring at 12 pm (instead of 4:30pm the rest of the week). The teachers also long for that half-day, including Madame Raynaud, my new teacher from my school in the south of France. One Saturday, she asked the entire class: “And today is the day when...?” She could hardly hide her exalted excitement, expectantly looking at us with thrilled eyes. I raised my hand as the good student I have always been and convinced that my answer will unite us in the formidable communion between two people who understand each other. “Saturday is THE day of French fries, Madame!” Her shoulders dropped, completely winded. My first encounter with relativism was painfully humiliating.

...to be continued...

Light my fire!

Tomorrow is French national day. 14^th of July: an eventful day for French people.

History

That day is referred to as Bastille Day in English, which is inaccurate. Indeed, we celebrate, not one, but two events on that day:

- 14^th July 1789: the Bastille prison is destroyed, one of the most famous events of the French revolution. It symbolizes the abolition of the privileges and the end of absolutism.

- 14^th July 1790: the nation celebrates the first anniversary of the destruction of Bastille prison during the festival of federation. It becomes the festival of the nation, which unites all French people.

14^th of July officially became the French national day in 1880. It has been enthusiastically celebrated since then and is brightened up by a plethora of symbols.

Military parade

All the army corps parade down the most beautiful avenue of the world: the Champs Elysees in Paris. The march of French military forces, precise to a fraction of an inch, is an impressive ballet of soldiers, police forces, military students, horses, tanks and military cars, professional firemen, chasseurs alpins (the elite mountain infantery), etc.

All these corps march at a different pace, which becomes a nightmare to synchronize. Since perfection is a must, rehearsals are organized at dawn while Parisians are still asleep. The most remarkable show is offered by the Foreign Legion: these manly soldiers, usually displaying their long barb, parade at a slow pace, united by a strong and mysterious esprit de corps. Their motto says it all: Legio Patria Nostra.

The Patrouille de France ends the parade in a superb precision aerobatic demonstration of the French Air Force. It is the world's oldest team of its kind.

Every year, a country is being honored. India was part of the parade in 2009.

My favorite moment of last year’s parade (that I duly watched on TV5, the francophone channel) was the haka performed by some troops of overseas French territories. It was so powerful that the tension was palpable in the presidential stand.

Firemen ball and fireworks

Friendly balls are organized across the country to celebrate the holiday. It is usually hosted by firemen: our sexy and muscular saviors over whom every romantic schoolgirl at heart drools, especially since their legendary calendars have become more revealing (for reasons that escape me, it is more lucrative). Here is a traditional version of the calendar. Decency (and a prudish corporate internet firewall) forbids me to post an example of the modern version.

As a teaser for a coming post about relativism, let me tell you the surprise of my husband when I explained that firemen were considered attractive in France (and in the US, I believe). I thought I made my point with a killing argument: it is all about the uniform! Then I discovered the uniform of Mumbai firemen.

A sparkling firework usually concludes this festive day in every town of the country. True, it does not hold the comparison with Marine Drives during Diwali, but it is still very enjoyable (and less risky).

Reception by the consul

Do I have any plan for tomorrow? Yes! I am being invited by the Consul of France in Mumbai for a reception. It is a great occasion to network with the French community and savor French delicacies. And thanks to Ferrero Rocher, the receptions of the Ambassador (or Consul for that matter) are always a great success!

Moaning - Apology of a healthy and positive behavior

French people are the gold medalist of moaning and cherish this cultural treasure. Here is an exclusive anthropological journey in the mind of a French girl.

Moaning – A constructive attitude towards life

Moaning is in. Moaning is a proof of intelligence, the evidence that we, French people, don’t take things for granted: we challenge them, constantly.  It also shows a commendable and romantic aspiration for a better world. We are not satisfied with our current conditions and we seek a constant improvement! We are extremely cynical, yes: but it is only the mark of a laudable perfectionism. I agree, it is not easy to live or work with a French person if you are not a moaner yourself. It can be tiring and even depressing sometimes (big pat on the back of my husband). But it has its advantages: the moaner is usually not a naïve person. The moaner is not afraid of being rude and putting his/her foot down. The moaner faces problems instead of cowardly avoiding them. The moaner is a formidable booster for perfection.

Moaning – An alternative to depression

For French people, moaning is also a need, a pressure valve to prevent the anger from accumulating and causing severe psychological damages. It is the expression of a frustration. And everyone knows how important it is to communicate one’s frustrations as it is the first step to solve them. Thus, moaning is a healthy and relaxing hobby, which even reduces the chances of heart attacks.

Moaning – A booster of social life

What greater thrill than to bitch about something (or someone) in a group? Collective moaning is even healthier than its individual version. It creates a sort of emulation. Above all, it strengthens the bonds of the moaners. A collective moaning sessions is a formidable generator of common souvenirs, common secrets: the best way to create a sense of belonging to a group! My favorite moaning partners have become my best friends in life (or is it the opposite?) and I long to the moaning competitions with them. Similarly, moaning can be seen as an attempt to strengthen one’s marriage (hint!).

Moaning – The celebration of a rich cultural legacy

French people are amongst the biggest moaners in the world. Not only we moan, but we are proud of moaning.  And I am not the only one saying it: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1274368/French-boast-comes-moaning-does-better-do.html . And France can boast about having the greatest moaning specimen, proud children of the French revolution, from Napoleon to de Funès. French people being the inventors of the “chauvinism” concept, they have no other choice but to perpetuate the moaning tradition.

Moaning – Risks of deficiency

As a professional moaner, I cannot help but being irritated (once again) when people told me I should not moan. It is the negation of my identity and the denial of the most elementary freedom! So let’s talk about the other extreme: the Care Bears followers (Bisounours en francais). Everything is good, the world is beautiful, the birds are singing, the sun is shining, and other expressions of foolishness. A category of Anglo-Saxon people, especially women, are prone to this behavior (apology for the easy cliché, but the typical Hollywood movies are not going to prove me wrong). My latest experience was with a group of non-Indian women (mainly Anglo-Saxon ladies) married to Indians. One of them, an American, started criticizing (Bad girl! This is not worthy of Care Bears) foreigners who were complaining about India. According to her, if you are living in India, you should stop complaining about the numerous inconveniences. “Embrace them, or leave the country.” I will let Beaumarchais’ Figaro answer that one: "Without the freedom to criticize, there is no true praise". So there! No hard feelings…