Reflections

Today, we dragged out of bed at the ungodly hour of 8 and made our way with Chad to the town of Frejus, which was originally founded by Julius Caesar, and has one of the oldest churches and cloisters in France. We took a tour in French, of which I caught maybe 50%. Because Chad, international man of mystery, had a business meeting later that day, we hightailed it back to Antibes post- tour. Derek and I tried to catch the market in town, but true to form it was just closing up. So we decided that pizza for dinner sounded just fine.

Afterwards, we went to the beach and barely found a spot. Nice anyway.

I was reflecting on the little differences in French culture from our own. There was a book on the shelf here called "French or Foe" about how to acclimate to French life if you are moving here or visiting a lot. Formexample, it talks about why some people who work in stores are so abrupt (apparently one has to earn friendliness here by being a regular customer and learning about the person and have them learn about you; false skilled like those thrown around randomly in the US are considered fake or hypocritical). if you know this tendency in advance, it can make your experience easier. I stillnthink the lady at Plage Keller is a bitch though!

My observation was of two American families at Plage Keller yesterday, who came along with two children each, as well as two nannies who looked to be Central American. The thing about PK as I now call it is that snotty as it is, it's a very family sort of place, where people come to enjoy their kids and grandparents and parents. No nannies for sure! The Americanos, by contrast, Sat back and let the nannies watch the kids in the water, then left them at the beach while they went to the dining area and ate. Everyone else brings their kids for a long lunch, or has food brought to the beach. Even the American moms with their perfect pilates bodies (but one piece suits because they were self-loathers-- too much?) and shiny hair were such stark contrasts to the lovely, but a little messy, sometimes a little fat, sometimes topless French moms. In a way, I don't look forward to returning to that mentality that everything needs to be perfect and I won't want to wear a bikini or just relax with my family and friends.

It's a funny paradox that we think of French women as being so put together and soignee, but on another level they are enviably laid back and relaxed. Something to think about and try to incorporate into my own world view.