Living in someone else's country is to be forever a student of "understanding others". You know from previous posts that I have learned cross cultural values such as the grave importance of the iron or the joys of ubiquitous strikes in la vie française. Buying your daily baguette while sporting a shirt straight from the bottom of the laundry basket is simply not done.
But let me tell you of an infraction even more grave than a wrinkled chemise -----
pouring your own wine at the table - especially if you happen to be a girl. It's rarely acceptable to do so if you are a guest but it is NEVER allowed if you are female.
I will never forget the look of abject horror on the face of a new french friend when I, in my liberal California way, reached across and replenished my own glass one night at his house.
Oh, the shame! He immediately fell all over himself apologizing for not noticing that my glass was empty. I remember thinking, so?? My glass is my responsibility, not yours. I thought it was an isolated case of an overly polite new friend.
Wrong.
Chivalry is alive and well in France and no where is it more evident than at the table. The number one faux pas for a woman is to - god forbid - pour her own wine - even touching the wine bottle will elicit an immediate intake of breath by everyone present. You better even be verrryyy careful about refilling your own water glass.
Apparently female fingers and liquids to not mix in this country.
This rule has several effects.
1. One must carefully regulate liquid intake and eating so as not to run out of fluid before the host makes his first refill pass around the table.
2. If you want to see what it feels like to be some kind of alcoholic, try being a girl at a French dinner party who desperately would like to have a second glass of wine before her host gets around to re-pouring - you find yourself gazing longingly at that bottle just in front of you and must physically restrain yourself - so close yet so very far away.............
3.The worst is that after all that waiting you can easily be skipped even if your glass sits empty since it is universally assumed that females don't drink much wine. A proper french woman when offered a refill will grimace and make one of those totally french shushing noises while slightly shaking her head and waving her fingers over her glass as if to say she couldn't possibly force down another ounce -
damn girls all make me look bad.
I don't know if anyone in the US has noticed but not only are our cars and houses bigger over there but so are our glasses. Our drinking habits tend to match the volume and we drink these greater volumes really quickly too.
This does not only go for alcoholic beverages - cokes, water, orange juice - they're all the same.
But in France, a drink of any kind begins with a ridiculously undersized glass that's never and I mean NEVER filled to anywhere near the brim. One is expected to only take occasional sips as if you've forgotten you even have a drink.
I can't tell you how maddening it is to be dying of thirst and ask for a drink of water only to be poured a miniscule glass one-third full. When someone starts to pour for me I feel like saying - fill 'er up - as if I was talking to a gas station attendant. If I don't make such a crass request, I know what's coming - interminable minutes waiting for enough time to pass before I can ask again without seeming like a whiny child.
3 1/2 years of fluid deprivation later I am getting the hang of it.
Now when I am poured a glass of wine at the dinner table, I see just how long I can go before even taking a sip so that I can enjoy the first part of my dinner psychologically reassured every time I glance at my still full (by French standards) glass.
When I do finally put rim to lips I sip how I imagine all those dainty French women do it - with my lips pursed almost shut. This way just a dribble can escape into my mouth; a quantity small enough that I can barely taste what I would soon be missing if I actually took a proper swig.
I gauge how I am doing by glancing regularly at everyone else's glasses - I'm ahead if my glass is behind.
Last night at a dinner party, I smugly noticed that the other three women's glasses were empty while mine had barely been touched. Hah!
I'm feeling more French every day, and trips to the toilet have been reduced too.
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