You Know You've Left the USA

I stayed in bed a bit longer than I should have, but I had promised a friend that I would walk her daughter to the school bus. Running late, I got myself dressed, re-tucked Jolie into the still-warm bed, and made a cup of coffee to go.

As I entered my friend’s home instead of the usual greeting of kisses and bonjour I got, “What’s that? You say that’s your coffee? Must be American coffee. Oh it’s still warm! Well, I would have made you a coffee if you wanted.”

My little friend and I got to the bus stop and as soon as we sat down she said I should drink my coffee.  And, well, could she have a sip? She didn’t like the taste, but was mesmerized that it was still warm and that the lid had a hole that could be openned and closed. She even tipped it to see if the liquid really would stay in this strange contraption.

As other parents came along there were lots of questions to be answered. “Was that coffee? Was it still hot?” So I had to explain to everyone what travel mugs were.  And how they allow you to drink the coffee in a car. “A car, but it would spill everywhere!” Well, no, cars in the States have cup holders. “Cup holders?”  They are exactly the size of drinks that contain sugar and/or caffeine.  Cars have lots of cup holders, actually one for every seat. Because yes, even children drink in the car-- not hot things, but always something. I could just see them picturing roly-poly little American children with travel mugs full of soda pop and goodness knows what else.

A little plug for a station that I miss a lot!

I’ve told you this before, but I bet you didn’t really believe me. One does not eat or drink on the streets unless seated at a café.  I have to confess that after the first few stares I became quite self-conscious of that mug in my hand. I didn’t finish my coffee until I got back home and could sit down at the breakfast table with a warm croissant I picked up on the way. I even felt a little guilty that the coffee was still somewhat warm.

When in Rome do as the Romans do.

You know you have left the U S of A when a travel mug is the center of attention.

Les Petites Aquarelles

Riverside Cafe

Kisses Kisses Kisses

Hello Goodbye Cha Cha Cha

Our biggest daily problem in France is kisses. Not back seat of the car kisses, not Mom and Pop kissing in the kitchen kisses, but kisses that are as complex as international treaties and as elegant as ballet. 

As soon as you see someone coming towards you the music starts, that’s your cue, you’re on.  

You check to see if this is someone that you know. If you don’t know them, great. You can glide by with a quick “Bonjour Monsieur, Madame.” If you do know them, but just from passing in the village, you can say bonjour with a quick handshake. So far all of our moves have just been a nod towards civility, a dance as simple as a two-step.

But now you see an acquaintance approaching. You'll just have a few moments to collect yourself. Still steps away, both parties show a flash of graceful sweeps of the arm-- nose wiped, no crumbs on the cheek, glasses off. (Maybe I should have compared this to a sword fight!)

Now you have to drop into the rhythm of the music. Follow the lead of your partner. Watch for the tilt of the head that lets you know wether you are to begin your kiss on the left cheek or the right cheek. It is never the same cheek! We have asked, and there are no rules for this. Misjudge left or right and you will be kissing hair, or ear, or MON DIEU!--lips! We have found that some people move to the music of Mozart-- calm, sophisticated and efficient. Some people have more of a latin sound, kisses smacked right on each cheek with plenty of smacky noise to emphasize their enthusiasm.  What’s remarkable is how carefully limited the contact is. A good dancer never lets you know their body is near yours. 

Now take these moves and multiply them if you enter into a group. It is a great affront to not greet everyone. Make the rounds and kiss everyone-- even strangers-- or you’ll break the rhythm. The music pace quickens, you are now in the full swing of a Virginia Reel. Just be sure to remember whom you started with so you don’t twirl the day or night away. 

Oh, and don’t forget you’ll have to start all over again with the good-bye kisses.

Les Petites Aquarelles

Resting Sailboats