Today’s post is more of a reverie on one of the details of life here, as well as something of a book report. I’ll be writing on L’Ecusson (as promised in the last post) in the future. Pictures of life in Montpellier will also appear at the end.
People who have spent any time in France know the importance of saying, “Bonjour,” and “Au Revoir,” upon entering and leaving pretty much any enclosed space, which might be a museum, a restaurant, or a store (unless it’s a large department store, in which case you walk in and go where you need to go, as in the States). The book, The Bonjour Effect, subtitled, The Secret Codes of French Conversation Revealed, by Barlow and Nadeau, is a must-read for anyone considering spending time in this country.
There is also much in the book about the educational system, the language, food (of course), and history. For example, I learned that the political terms, Right and Left, come from the French. Evidently, it has to do with how the members of France’s National Assembly were seated at the beginning of the French Revolution. Those in favor of the royal veto (the aristocracy and the clergy) were seated on the right side of the king, and those who opposed it sat on the left. As time went on, the Right tended to unite ultraroyalists and counterrevolutionaries, and the Left brought together revolutionaries, liberals, and those who defended individual liberties.
But, back to Bonjour…Yesterday I went into a medium-sized grocery store. There appeared to be no one in it, but, as I entered, I heard a gentle, “Bonjour, Madame!” I had to peer around a column to see the speaker, a woman behind the cash register. I replied with my own, “Bonjour, Madame!” And then I could start my shopping.
At the Orly Airport, when I was dead tired after my flight and trying to change my next flight (to Nice) to an earlier one, I had already gone to several counters and been told I was at the wrong one. So, my patience was at a low, as was my energy. When I got to the right counter, I saw that the woman destined to help me was engaged in a spirited conversation with a fellow worker. I waited until there was a lull in the conversation, and then did the typical American thing. I said, “Excuse me…” The woman turned and glared, and I do mean that, and said in a loud voice, “BONJOUR, MADAME.” Oops. I quickly, said, “Pardon,” (pronouncing it the French way), and amended my greeting to, “Bonjour, Madame.” Only then could we proceed to conduct business. Those of us who report on such things say…I was Bonjour Madam’ed today! Ah, lesson learned, although there’s no guarantee it won’t happen again!
The great thing about this custom is that it forces you to acknowledge your fellow human beings. I actually love that this is a necessary part of French life. You get into an elevator in the U.S. and no one says a thing. It feels awkward, but hey, it’s just an elevator ride. Perhaps I’m over-romanticizing this, but…it feels somehow that saying, “Bonjour,” promotes a feeling that you’re in this (life?) together, and the ride thus goes a bit more smoothly.
