Someone should really standardise the number of kisses you give when greeting people in Europe. I mean it is fair enough for different countries to do different numbers; German, Dutch and Swiss people do three, British and Russian people do two and Polish people only do one kiss, but different regions of different countries vary too. In Marseilles apparently they do four kisses while here in Cannes they just do two!
How are people meant to know how many kisses to do if you don't know where the other party is from? Also if you do know where they are from but it is a different place to you, how is it decided which party alters their kissing number? What if they both alter? What if both assume the other will?
It could save a lot of awkwardness is all I'm saying.
*ahem*
Thursday, 28 August 2014
Saturday, 23 August 2014
International etiquette
My daily battle here is one that few nationalities appear to suffer from.
The majority of students at the College International de Cannes only speak English as a second language and so naturally revert to their mother tongues when possible. My first fortnight here this was almost unanimously Spanish, a language that I can comprehend though not use. My second fortnight here it has been German, a language of which I know how to say 11 things: good morning, goodbye, thanks a lot, you're welcome, I am a Berliner, can you speak German, bless you, moustache, sweat, bratwurst and Germany. All highly useful phrases for conversation.
This has meant that I am frequently talking quite happily in French or English with a fellow student until someone who speaks their mothertongue comes and joins us. This unfailingly results in my friend embarking on an in-depth conversation in German (or Spanish) that puts me in quite the quandry.
You see, were I in England and all this were happening in English, I would either be introduced to the new party and included in the conversation or I would be permitted by social etiquette to excuse myself to pop to the loo and play on my phone. Here, however, neither of these happen... I am left hanging, unintroduced and unexcused. Whence my internal battle begins; do I pretend to look interested in the conversation (despite both other parties knowing I understand none of it) or pretend to be deep in thought and gaze off into the distance for an unknown length of time (which is no less awkward than the first option)?
If I ever find out, I will let you know. For now, however, I remain hopeful that one day soon I may be excused from such an awfully uncomfortable conversation so that I can go and work on my high score at Solitaire instead.
The majority of students at the College International de Cannes only speak English as a second language and so naturally revert to their mother tongues when possible. My first fortnight here this was almost unanimously Spanish, a language that I can comprehend though not use. My second fortnight here it has been German, a language of which I know how to say 11 things: good morning, goodbye, thanks a lot, you're welcome, I am a Berliner, can you speak German, bless you, moustache, sweat, bratwurst and Germany. All highly useful phrases for conversation.
This has meant that I am frequently talking quite happily in French or English with a fellow student until someone who speaks their mothertongue comes and joins us. This unfailingly results in my friend embarking on an in-depth conversation in German (or Spanish) that puts me in quite the quandry.
You see, were I in England and all this were happening in English, I would either be introduced to the new party and included in the conversation or I would be permitted by social etiquette to excuse myself to pop to the loo and play on my phone. Here, however, neither of these happen... I am left hanging, unintroduced and unexcused. Whence my internal battle begins; do I pretend to look interested in the conversation (despite both other parties knowing I understand none of it) or pretend to be deep in thought and gaze off into the distance for an unknown length of time (which is no less awkward than the first option)?
If I ever find out, I will let you know. For now, however, I remain hopeful that one day soon I may be excused from such an awfully uncomfortable conversation so that I can go and work on my high score at Solitaire instead.
Tuesday, 12 August 2014
Hon hon hon!
Bonjour!
Ca va? I hope that you are all well and that you can excuse my absence from the blogosphere this past year. But I am picking up the blogging stick again so you can expect frequent updates, stories and thoughts from the mind of Me.
I am currently in Cannes in the south of France studying French. I have been here for 2 weeks and am staying for another 4 after this. And my main thought of this experience so far is (sorry Dad) not to do with learning French. You see there appears to be a distortion in the fabric of time that is active within the perimeters of this college causing time to pass non-linearly at an average rate that is faster than that external to the property. I could have sworn I only got here last week...
Although my French is certainly coming along. I now only have a 50/50 chance of freezing when talking to a French person and can successfully order food, ask for directions, find a toilet, purchase nonessential items and make a reservation. Actually I am selling myself short a bit, I (quite proudly) made a formal complaint in French the other day about an arrogant tosser of a student in my class who would simply not. stop. talking/bellowing/summoning the dead. Throughout this trip I have been writing down all the words that I have needed to lookup as I think of them and my list from that day reads as follows:
(disclaimer: I don't know how to put accents in on here!)
Ca va? I hope that you are all well and that you can excuse my absence from the blogosphere this past year. But I am picking up the blogging stick again so you can expect frequent updates, stories and thoughts from the mind of Me.
I am currently in Cannes in the south of France studying French. I have been here for 2 weeks and am staying for another 4 after this. And my main thought of this experience so far is (sorry Dad) not to do with learning French. You see there appears to be a distortion in the fabric of time that is active within the perimeters of this college causing time to pass non-linearly at an average rate that is faster than that external to the property. I could have sworn I only got here last week...
Although my French is certainly coming along. I now only have a 50/50 chance of freezing when talking to a French person and can successfully order food, ask for directions, find a toilet, purchase nonessential items and make a reservation. Actually I am selling myself short a bit, I (quite proudly) made a formal complaint in French the other day about an arrogant tosser of a student in my class who would simply not. stop. talking/bellowing/summoning the dead. Throughout this trip I have been writing down all the words that I have needed to lookup as I think of them and my list from that day reads as follows:
(disclaimer: I don't know how to put accents in on here!)
Chuchoter = shhh
Bruyant = noisy
Murmurer/ Parler a voix basse = whisper
La blague = Joking/kidding
Detendre = to relax
N'importe = it doesn't matter
Impoli = rude
Cela ne se fait pas! = That is unacceptable!
Gacher = To ruin
En colere/furieux = Angry
Indignation = outrage
Atroce = outragous
Tuer = to kill
Poignader = To stab
Plaindre/ Rouspeter = To complain
Faire un rapport = To report
Demonter =To take down
Batard = Bastard
On a brighter note, however, he is now (I like to think, as a result of my well worded complaint) much more appropriately behaved and I haven't had to look up the address of the local British embassy...
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