The French Sensibility

When I first came to France (at age 15), I marvelled at the way some French things seems so contrary to what I'd expected.  The ever-fashionable French wore some pretty awful combinations of clothing.  Grey flats and black tights with a brown skirt?  Je ne comprends pas an outfit like that.  Men are more than happy to wear things here that no self-respecting (even fashionable) American man would wear.  A Pepto-Bismol pink polo shirt with lemon yellow pants--sure, why not?  Um....

So when we ran across a street performer, I eagerly anticipated my daughter's reactions.  He wasn't exactly a mime, but was clearly playing to an international audience, so he kept the talking to a minimum.  He spent about four minutes moving the crowd around into a square, getting us placed just so.  I kept thinking how in the U.S, nobody would wait that long for the action.  Nothing's entertaining enough to sit through all that, right?

Then he enlisted the help of an Italian woman.  She stood on the end of a line of packing tape that he'd stretched over the ground.  He then attached the free end to a bike.  The tape kept a bike propped up, but her involvement wasn't necessary--the tape was secured to the ground.  She participated with good humor for about five minutes, then made a show of leaving.  He teased her a bit, trying to get her to stay, and eventually she left in a huff.  He grabbed another woman.  The crowd applauded politely for her, but if he'd really "had" us, there would have been much more cheering.  Clearly the audience wasn't on his side.

Eventually he did some tricks on the bicycle and finished by asking the audience for a few coins.  The girls were, to my surprise, quite interested in the entire show.  I asked them a few times if they wanted to leave, but they were adamant about staying.  They were more curious than amused.  But maybe that's the heart of the cultural experience.  You're more curious than amused by many aspects of travel.  Then once you figure things out, that's when the pleasure comes.  The pleasure of the familiar is often hard-earned, but so delicious.

So I'm off to today's adventure: seeking amusement and basking in the curious.  Vive la France!