You're already using blogs to stay on top of happenings in French society, culture, and politics, but have you ever thought about taking your hunt for all things Francophile offline? There are countless French resources that don't require an Internet connection. Here are three of my favorites:
1. France Magazine - This publication promises the best of "culture, travel and art de vivre," and when I get my hands on a copy I devour every last page. Sure, you can read it online, but isn't it more fun to get a little piece of France delivered to your mailbox every month? Pour a glass of Sancerre and curl up with the most recent edition.
2. News from France - The French Embassy in the U.S. publishes a free monthly newsletter chock full of what's new, popular, and noteworthy in France. Everything from fashion to technology is covered. It also gives information about French cultural events taking place stateside. Did I mention it's free? Email info@ambafrance-us.org to subscribe.
3. France24 - France's answer to CNN, BBC, and Al Jazeera is a 24-hour news station covering international and French events, while also giving considerable time to stories about culture and the arts. If you'd like to watch it on TV, you'll have to first check if and how it's broadcast in your area. If you can't get it over the airwaves, you can resort to watching it online, in English, French, or Arabic.
This past Sunday, the Georgetown Business Improvement District hosted what they called the Georgetown French Market. Promising a "café, crêpes and croissants," "quaint shops, galleries and boutiques," the market was mostly a chance for businesses between P Street and Reservoir Road to sell goods at discounted prices. To be fair, the Georgetown neighborhood of Washington, D.C., does have a rather European feel to it, even on days without French markets. The proximity of the French Embassy and the inexplicable way the area seems to draw Francophones from across the city ups its la France quotient, but the market itself wasn't much to write home about. That said, they did have café and crêpes (plus the usual Georgetown weekend crowds), and I did have fun spotting French things and taking pictures of them. Here's what I found:
On July 14, 1789, French citizens stormed the Bastille prison in Paris and set in motion events that would abolish feudalism and lead to the proclamation of the Declaration of the Rights of Man. Centuries later (220 years, to be exact), Bastille Day is the national holiday of France, and is celebrated all over the world by Frenchmen, Frenchwomen, and Francophiles alike. Feel like joining in the fun? Here are some suggestions for how to celebrate the Fête Nationale:
1.Attend the military parade that runs along the Champs-Elysées. Though it is often ignorantly bashed in the U.S., the French military is in fact one of the world's most elite, sophisticated, and technologically-advanced fighting forces. Check out their equipment, their soldiers, and wave after wave of jaw-dropping fighter jet and helicopter flyovers.
2.Catch the dazzling fireworks display that takes place at the Eiffel Tower. Pack your baguette and cheese picnic and claim your spot on the Champs de Mars in the early evening. Be sure to sit lined up with the center of the tower for the best view. One warning: the crowds can be downright scary as you try to get home after the show. I did not enjoy this part of last year's festivities, and I attribute the frenzied, run-you-over madness to the day's legacy of violent prison storming.
3. Not in France? Eat at your favorite local French restaurant. Many will probably be offering special deals on drinks and/or food in honor of le 14 juillet.For example, Napoleon in DC is offering free Champagne!
5. Wear red, white and blue. If you're an American, it's possible that you have plenty of clothes in these colors hanging around from the recent Independence Day celebration. Get some additional use of of them by paying hommage to the drapeau tricolore.
The upcoming move to Belgium is going to give me more than just a chance to eat waffles and drink beer. It's giving me an opportunity to mark a new milestone in my life: this will be the first time I've ever lived in a foreign country other than France. Now, some people might argue that, as countries go, France and Belgium are simply different sides of the same coin. But they are probably the same people who would also say that about Canada and the U.S., and we all know there are Canadians and Americans alike who could tell you why that assumption is completely ridiculous. Like Canada and the U.S., France and Belgium are two completely different countries, and here's why:
First, there's the issue of language. In France, they speak French. Period. Belgium, on the other hand, counts Dutch, French and German as its official languages, with Dutch being the most widely spoken. Second, Belgium still has a King. Albert II might not be more than a severely limited head of state, but he at least still has his head. We all know what happened to the French monarchy when they had their date with the guillotine. Third, France is much bigger than Belgium, and offers more variety in the way of landscapes and climates. Those in the know have told me to expect one weather pattern in Belgium: rain. The city of Paris is known for rain as well, but you don't have to go far to find skiing in the Alps or sunbathing on the Riviera. And we can't forget that only France has the Eiffel Tower as its most recognizable symbol. Belgium has this thing.
Yes, France and Belgium are both former colonial powers, and yes, I'll be able to get around Brussels with my French language skills just like I did in Paris. But there are still enough unique things about Belgium to keep a newcomer on her toes. In addition to the languages, culture, government and landscape, there are the people. As I'm sure the citizens of both countries could tell you, Belgians are Belgians and the French are the French. I've gotten to know les Français pretty well over the years. I'm now looking forward to meeting de Belgen, les Belges, and der Belgierin.
Connoisseurs of strong-smelling fromage, rejoice! After blogging about the announcement and temporary delay of a 300% duty on Roquefort cheese, I am happy to report the recent repeal of this planned artificial price hike. In exchange for the EU lowering barriers to exporters of non-hormone treated U.S. beef (they still ban the hormone-injected stuff), the U.S. will back off its threat to effectively push Roquefort (and other European foodstuffs) out of the American market. It's a victory for stateside lovers of France's trademarked sheep's milk cheese and the residents of the small French village that produce it alike.
But this story has more meaning to me than simply my interest in all things French. As I reported before, a congressman from my home state took up the cause of Roquefort by sending a letter to President Obama asking him not to go forward with implementation of the duty, which was a leftover from the Bush Administration. I always knew James L. Oberstar, who represents Minnestoa's 8th congressional district, was a fellow Francophile (I had seen him in the publication, News from France, meeting with French officials), but I was still impressed by his actions on this matter. When his initial letter went unanswered, he wrote again. Eventually, members of the French government and the French media picked up on his efforts, thanking him with letters and invitations to visit France to visit the famous Roquefort caves.
Maybe they would invite a blogger who also cares about Franco-American relations? Ok, maybe not, but I'm still glad to hear that there are other Minnesotans (and other Americans, I'm sure!) who care about this stuff as much as I do. Vive le Minnesota! And vive le Roquefort, too.
Anyone who has ever ridden le métro in Paris and felt the multitude of eyes fixated upon them for no apparent reason knows that the French love to stare. Not the kind of eyes-averted-when-busted staring most of us engage in. I'm talking about an unabashed, unapologetic kind of staring that meets your return glance with complete and utter indifference. It takes some getting used to, but once you realize you don't just have to be the target of all that staring, you're allowed to actually engage in it yourself, the real fun can begin. Just be sure you kick the habit before returning to the non-staring community from whence you came. I've had to relearn that looking at other people on the DC subway system is a major faux pas.
For more on French staring, it's sibling, eavesdropping, and how you can enjoy these two pastimes while partaking in the café culture of France, check out the article I found and loved that discusses it all.
I was all geared up to do a post about April Fool's Day in France until I saw that Julie from WhyGo France beat me to it. Tant pis! She did a much better job of explaining Le Poisson d'Avril than I ever could, so everyone wins out in the end. You get to read about the history à la française of this prankster holiday, Julie gets a little more traffic to her site, and I get to relax instead of doing a bunch of research into why fish and the French go together on April 1st. Hint: it has nothing to do with breakfast, lunch, or dinner.
Movies are huge in France. There are important film festivals every year in Cannes and Deauville, French directors and movie stars are known all over the world, and theaters in France sell all-you-can-watch passes so that French audiences can see multiple showings every month. Films have long played an important role in French culture, and they still do today. But they're not just watching French movies in French cinémas Foreign films are popular too, with American films taking top billing. I've seen a lot of American movies in France, and one thing that always surprised me was the method (or lack thereof) for creating their titles. American movies in France don't necessarily retain their English names, and in some cases, they come out completely unrecognizable on the other side.
There seem to be three different fates for American movie titles in France. The first is that the original title is kept in English. For example, when I saw Sex and the City in Paris last spring, it was called Sex and the City. Nothing had been changed. The second option is that the original title is kept, but is translated into French. Lord of the Rings offers a good example of this; it becomes Le Seigneur des Anneaux. Chick flick 27 Dresses was showing while I was in Paris, and yep, they called it 27 Robes.
The third fate is the one that always catches me off guard. Occasionally, American movie titles are completely changed before being marketed to the French public. For example, the Steve Carell/Juliette Binoche film Dan in Real Life became Coup de Foudre àRhode Island, which means Love at First Sight in Rhode Island in English. Quoi? That title has a totally different meaning than its original English version! I remember a few years back when Something's Gotta Give came out. I was in France, and it was called Tout Peut Arriver, which would be Anything Can Happen in English. So what's the deal? Why do some titles change and others don't? How do they decide which titles stay in English? And just who, exactly, is making all of these decisions?
Of course, this issue cuts both ways. Amélie - a French film that was hugely popular in the U.S. when it came out - isn't called Amélie in France. Its real title is Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulin, a nice little rhyme that, as you can probably guess, translates to The Fabulous Destiny of Amélie Poulin. Maybe that's the key: the French title has a sing-songy feel to it, but when it's changed to English it loses that meaning. As a result, there's no point in keeping the original title. It does seem like the American movie titles that are changed tend to be idiomatic or slang-ridden. And I suppose it doesn't really matter what the movie is called, as long as it's worth the good euros, or dollars, you paid to see it.
No wine tastings at French vineyards? Quelle horreur! You would think that such a restriction could never happen in the country whose name is synonymous with fermented grapes, and yet, I recently learned that it might not be such a stretch. Monday's post about enjoying Virginia wine at the source garnered a comment about how France's vintners currently fear such a tasting ban. Officials are becoming increasingly concerned about alcohol abuse among French youth - youth who were largely thought of as immune to the binging habits of their American and British peers -, and France's parliament will start debating a law that seeks to protect them in early March. But at what cost?
It's not the first talk of tightening drinking laws in France in recent months. When I was living in Paris last spring I remember hearing quite a bit of buzz about possible bans on happy hours. Though they are much less commonplace in France than they are in the U.S., late afternoon discounts on drinks were seen as creating excess alcohol consumption and encouraging reckless behavior. Apparently, tastings at wineries fall into that category as well, but I'm not buying it. Ever been to a vineyard in France? As far as I could tell, they mostly attract foreign tourists and French couples on a weekend trip, not teens looking to get wasted. Hopefully this is just a far-fetched, alarmist cry emanating from the wine industry and not something that will actually come to pass. France should embrace its wine culture, not penalize it. If she has forgotten how to embrace her wine culture, I might be able to offer some tips.
