How to Sound French: The Film References

When I first moved to France, I was thrown blindly into a completely different pop culture.  I came from the culture where we quoted Jay & Silent bob (Not one French person I know gets it), Dude Where's My Car, references to flutes an inappropriate things along those lines.  Quotables are the basis of a good pop culture, and France, in her own glory, has her own quotes from films.

Mastering the quotes and watching the movies will assure that you will understand what someone means when, for example, you say something... you are contradicted, and then everyone in the room waves their right hand maniacally and shouts, "Cassséeeeeeee!!!!".

Here we go....

Bienvenue Chez les Ch'tis - Dany Boon
A film that simply details a French from the south who is forced by his job at the Post Office to relocate to the North of France, specifically, in the region of Nord-pas-de-Calais, considered to be our version of the "Backwoods" in France.

From the disgusting habit of eating a stinky cheese smothered on bread for breakfast, to the incomprehensible French dialect... the
main character Philippe Abrams (Kad Merad) eventually settles into the city and makes friends with Antoine Balleuil (Dany Boon).

Quoteables
-"C’est pas compliqué de parler le ch’timi. On ne dit pas : « pardonnez-moi je n’ai pas bien saisi le sens de votre question », on dit : « Hein ? »."
-"C'est le Nord!"

Dîner de Cons - Francis Veber


En gros a film about a high-rolling French man who gets his kicks with his buddies by inviting the stupidest person he meets to a weekly dinner.  Whoever brings the most idiotic guest wins... until one day an idiot comes that is not so much as idiot as he thinks... 


Some really quite funny scenes (better in original French with subtitles if French isn't your strong point), some involving adding vinegar to wine in order to trick a tax inspector, an obsession with match stick creations...


Quoteables
-"Il a une belle tête du vainqueur" - Reference used when they go hunting for the "idiots".


"-Il s'appelle Juste Leblanc.
-Ah bon, il n'a pas de prénom?
-Je viens de vous le dire Juste Leblanc... Votre prénom c'est François, c'est juste? Eh bien lui c'est pareil, c'est Juste."

Les Visiteurs - Jean-Marie Poiré


Typical time travel, misplaced group of knights put in the 20th century.  A re-make was done by Americans, Just Visiting, which follows about the same plot-line.


Quoteables
-"Je suis Godefroy Amaury De Malfète, comte de Montmirail, d’Apromont et de Papimcourt, fils d’Aldebert de Malfète et de Thibaude de Montfaucon... Je suis ton aieul."


-Et on lui pèlera le jonc comme au bailli du Limousin !
Qu’on a fendu un beau matin.
Qu’on a pendu ! Avec ses tripes !"

Brice de Nice - James Huth
Jean du Jardin has become a household name since the Oscar's glorification of The Artist, but before Du Jardin was a grand actor, he as a comedian.  From Un Gars et Une Fille to the movie Brice de Nice, he was never really that serious.


Brice de Nice, is just that, a 30 year old surfer from Nice named Brice who is constantly hunting the perfect "wave".  However, he doesn't really KNOW how to surf since he lives in Nice where the waves are totally calm.  Travelling around and finally ending up in a competition for surfing, there are endless, and really strange, references and jokes.


Casser
While there is not a specific quoteable, the most important concept is to understand "Cassée", literally, "broken".  Brice de Nice constantly is able to basically pull out French versions of yo mama jokes, and when he wins, he swings his right arm from shoulder to crotch, in a cutting fashion, proving that you, indeed, have been "broken".


French people tend to do this everywhere, if you are proved wrong, "T'es cassé", if you are saying really stupid things, "cassé", Political pundants having a debate and one says something totally off-handed, "CASSE".


Voilà, that's the start to French culture.. of course there are more to come.  American movies still are popular, but often under French names (ie: le sixième sens, le Projet Blair Witch, SOS Phantpmes (ghostbusters), etc)


a+

The Little Things...

Recently I was just about to cross the street, it was around 9pm in the evening and Bri and I had ordered Chinese takeout.  We stepped onto the street and noticed something very odd, the guy in front of us had whipped out his zizi and was taking a whizz, in plain public, on the crosswalk.

Now, I've seem some oddities in my life abroad, but this is probably a moment that took the cake.  To have the balls (excuse the pun) to pee in public, and I mean, show the wares to everyone and everything...

It got me thinking... There have been many moments that I've said, that would never happen in the states. And thus, this blog is going to be dedicated to those little things that are just cultural.

Homeless Dudes and Cheap Wine
I remember back in the states, many of the Homeless people had cans of cheap PBR or even whisky or vodka.  In France, these homeless, while 10x stinkier than in the states, are also a bit classier.  I happen to observe the homeless around the city, instead of avoiding, and most of them tend to have a bottle of wine in their hands.  How very French for the homeless people to get exceedingly drunk on a bottle of wine.  Of course, glasses are not needed.

Teaching Kids to Pee on Walls
I actually wrote this down in my journal once, scribbled quickly as if I was shocked.  Due to a lack of public, clean toilets, many people end up peeing in public (although rarely in cross-walks), and thus arrives the "teaching your child to pee in front of everyone on this very public wall" moment.  The kid was maybe, 5 years old, mom huddled over showing him how to do his business.

The Soft Porn of Cheese
I watch a lot of French television, it tends to help me keep up my comprehension, plus dating a Senator's assistant means lots and lots of political news pundits.  I always prepare myself mentally when the commercials come on, notably the cheese commercials.  They always start the same, soft beating music lulling and enticing the audience to watch what's happening... suddently a hand reaches over to a cheese, Roquefort, Caprice de Dieu, St. Agur, slices a piece off and takes a bite.  The minute the presumabely French person bites into the cheese, suddenly they are transported to a paradise... rain falls, and it seems as though they love it so much they could marry it.  If you don't believe me: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YEmgb7ZCWE

Seriously, he grips the wood as though eating St. Agur provides such an immense pleasure... total soft porn.

I think I could make a whole separate post on just marketing strategies in France.

Get In Line at 6pm For Baguettes
Without fail, I receive a text every night before I leave work from Bri, "Do we hav bread?" because he knows I forget.  So as I haul my bag of work home, I end up in like at 6:20pm with all the other French after-work crowd.  As addictive as cigarettes, the baguettes is an absolute requirement in order to eat any French meal.  So there is always an insane line of at least 10 people, each one ordering the same or a variation,

Une baguette s'il vous plaît,
Une banette s'il vous plaît....


The line seems enormous, but it passes quickly and we all retreat home with a long and crispy baguette under our arms.

My Dog Poops EVERWHERE
I notice it more in Paris than I did in Lyon, but people let their dogs squat anywhere and let it loose, thus resulting in a sort of Indiana Jones commute to work.  I feel like I'm avoiding piles of the stuff every day, luckily I always was the type to watch my feet... so mess avoided! I have yet to step in a pile of crap (knock on wood).

More to come...

81 Rue de Loo

Alright, I am getting way behind on my blogging... so much for my New Year's Resolution!  I think I'll just have to spend my free Friday's prepping up some hot stuff to discuss... especially since my recent move to Pah-ree!

So, as a super die-hard, probably born in the wrong time period FAN of Julia Child, I was just ravie to have #1 on my "To Do in Pah-ree" list "Visit Julia Child's 81 Rue de Loo Apartment Building".

Well, because my hours are usually between 9am to 6pm Mon-Thurs, and Bri isn't free until 7pm on Fridays; that leaves us the weekends to run errands, visit, enjoy a bit and discover Pah-ree.

Thus the reason we found ourselves at a little Café in the 8ème plotting our mission to see the infamous 81 rue de Loo.

First off, Pah-ree is amazing.  I keep finding these incredible little pockets of America and cultures popping up all over different areas of the city.  I have discovered that the 8th Arrondissement is sort of evolving into an American sub-culture.

Take for example the whole onset of Cupcakes in Paris; I remember cupcakes were big when I left the States- all the big fund raising events would have the classy Cupcake Jones; and now Paris has caught the drift.  A search for these American delights leads us to many American cafés located, none other than, the 8ème.

Which is how we found ourselves in the Sugar Plum Café, located at 68 rue Cardinal Lemoine.. yup... 8ème.

My horribly shot photo of the barista at Sugar Plum Café

As soon as we entered the shop my ears were buzzing... something wasn't right.. everyone was speaking in.. ENGLISH!  All the menu- English!  All the people spattered about- English!  Amazing experience that I hadn't had in over a year and a half.. so of course I did the first thing I could think of.  I ordered a slice of good ol' American style Carrot Cake.

Cake 4€, bottomless crap coffee 2€

And did I chow down?  I forgot how much I loved carrot cake until I was downing fork after forkful of the stuff.  Bri ordered some weird chocolate thing.. was a bit dry- but his Valrhona Hot Chocolate? To die for.

After I was all fattened up and American-ed out, I decided it was time to go see Mrs. Child.  A quick métro ride later we found ourselves in the Métro leading up to Julia's street.. I imagined her taking the métro everywhere.. she had walked where I was walking. Her and Paul had strolled where WE were strolling.

Métro Roo de Loo

I was almost beside myself with excitement!

As we climbed up onto the street I started feeling like I did when I visited her exhibit in the Smithsonian, excitement... sadness (wishing she was still around and that she'd wanna meet me.  She'd like me, I'm no Julie Powell!)

On the corner, why was it TAGGED?

And then, of course, I got to my destination.  Ladies, gentlemen, die-hard fans of Julia Child, I present to you 81 Rue de Loo, her residence during 10 years when she begun The Book in France:

81 Rue de Loo

It was amazing.

a+

Life in the 15th

The last day in any city tends to be a bittersweet experience.  I'm no stranger to saying good bye as I've lived in several different cities.  I lived in Forks until I was 14 years old, packed bags and moved to Portland, moved all around the city and then jet-setted at 23 to France.

Before Bri + I were a couple, we were just party-buddies in Portland

I was looking through photos and realized that in the 3 years Bri and I have been together we've visted a pretty decent list of place, always with a smile and a back-pack.

One of our backpacking trips

• 2009
• Roadtrip from Portland to New York
• New Orleans, LA
• Savannah, GA
• Washington DC
• Maryland
• New York
• Lyon (first time)
• 2010
• MOVE to Lyon
• Venice
• Paris
• Barcelona
• 2011
• MOVE to Paris

Today is our third year anniversary, and now we start a new life once again in a new city.  We're going to Le Lutin dans le Jardin, a restaurant that has a fabulous discount through 'La Fourchette' (21€ instead of 42€).

This is about 1 year after we got together

View from down our street

Our new life means a new apartment of course, and one that is about 35m2 (half that of the last apartment in Lyon) and 1100€ a month.  Ridiculously expensive. Our apartment is in the 15th in Paris, a quiet neighborhood outside of the bustle of life, towards the south end of the city..

Suprisingly, despite the 30 minute crowded metro rides, I feel suprisingly calm in this city.  It is very similar to life in Lyon, but much much larger.  I was warned before moving about the gens impolis but so far I've only came across kind and gentle people.

I was asked 3 times if I needed help dragging my giant suitcase up the metro steps (including a woman!), I was caught by a nice businessman when I was about to fall over trying to elbow out of my metro stop.

Actually so far, Parisiens are quite pleasant outside of rush-hour.  During rush-hours (9am-10am, 12pm-1pm and after 5pm) they tend to be pushy, but you kinda have to be in order to get INTO the metro.

In the area I live I am 5 minutes away from buses, a step away from a boulangerie, boucheries (3 of them), fruit stands, grocery stores, 2 métro lines... in fact I am even better situated than my first apartment in the center of Lyon.

The air feels much drier in Paris, and my contacts feel polluted after half a day wandering around.  I carry hand sanitizer for after my metro rides, and wash my face as soon as I get home.

There are differences, but they are differences that I can share with my blog, things to discover, things to report about.

So, I'm off for a "Gastronomique Expérience" and get ready for some experiences!

a+

Noël in France: Typical Christmas Meal

It's that time of year again, I almost can't believe it myself.. as I look back through photos it will officially be my 4th Christmas in Europe.  First was in a tiny town in the Eastern side of Germany, then the consecutive three were here in Lyon with Bri's family.

I realized, however, I never actually detailed a typical Christmas meal!  So here goes from decadent 'apéritif' to the intense dessert.

First Course: Champagne + Petit Fours
Often a high quality champagne, well chilled, served in Crystal flutes.  A typical french meal offers heated up appetizers, often snack sized bits, hot dogs rolled in some puff pastry.  Some snails stuffed into puff shells and baked until tender.  Christmas time marks a very 'fishy' time, while there is often some puff pastry snacks, there is also a fish egg tapenade spread over toasts.

I am personally not a super fan of the egg-tapenade, but it starts a great meal... plus the champagne (in a true French family) is usually a good quality.


Now at this point we are starting to get hungry, so the best part comes next-






Second Course: Huitres and Champagne
To cleanse the taste buds and to prepare for the evening, we usually have a basket of raw oysters after apéro.  Another bottle of champagne is usually popped open at this point, and *SLURP* goes the oysters.

Raw, we slurp them down with a 'shallot, red wine vinegar sauce' or simply a squeeze of fresh lemon.  I never loved oysters until accompagnied with a chilled champagne, and now I couldn't live without my shooters.

Of course... at this point we get a bit full, but allez! we continue.

Third Course: Sauternes, Foie Gras and Saumon Fumé
So about 3 cups into bubbly, stomach's getting tight, but next is the best.  Some toasted brioche toasts, butter smeared and melted with foie gras.

Now, for some in the States, foie gras is horrible.  Yes it's true that the poor birds are force-fed.. but it's equally true that Foie Gras is one of the most amazing things that I have ever tasted.


For those who avoid 'cruelty' we have some saumon fumé or smoked salmon, a little lemon zested and some buttered toast... simplicity!

Fourth Course: Main Dish
From this point we take a small break, usually a 15 minute digestion break before the main dish is presented.  Normally this is a roasted turkey, a game animal... My favorite Christmas dinner was a slow roasted wild pig in a red wine reduction.  Normally served with some time of a purée, it's difficult to get through the 4th course.. only to get to..



Fifth Course: Fruits, Cheese and Nuts
To help with digestion, usually a bowl of fruits and nuts (fresh) are accompagnied with the cheese platter.  A typical French Christmas cheese is the Mont d'Or, as well as the Petit Basque.

Usually we continue from our switch to red wine, and the cups of wine are in the 10s.

We try to eat a little bit of all the cheese... of course some just give up at this point.

Sixth Course: La Bûche de Noël
Finally, after shoving our mouths full of deliciousness, we get to the typical 'Bûche de Noël', the log-shaped cake covered in chocolate ganache.  I usually can only handle a small piece at this point.  It's very rich and often comes in different flavors.





Seventh and FINAL Course: Digestif and Papilottes
In France, during Christmas, all the grocery stores stock up on these chocolates called, papilottes, very rich chocolates individually wrapped with inspirational messages.  Around 12am we finish stuffing our face, and then out pops the chocolate and strong alcohol to help digest.  A verre of Whiskey, Mar or any alcohol will do.. and then..

Well..

You can imagine.  Here is me after dinner last year, no joke, I literally sprawled on the couch and couldn't move.

Then, wake up, open gifts and at 1PM the next day dig in for LUNCH.  That's right, we repeat all of this the next day.

Then one week later.

That's why the average French person gains between 2-4 pounds in a week between the 25th of December and the 1st of January.

Bon Appetit!

a+

Not so Green Lyon

When I was living in Portland I always considered Europe to be this magical place- I was told by an exchange student that lived with us when I was 16 that Public Transportation was abundant, recycling not simply a concept but a way of life.

I had a fabulous presentation in my Master's program late Friday afternoon from a renowed Quebecian nature lover and guest teacher.  Fabien Durif flew in from his corner of Canada, his slightly twanging Quebecois accent and a slew of ideas my fellow collegues had never heard.

Movement Vert
Green Washing
Consommation Responsable
Ecotourism
Organics

After saying 'Vert' about 20 times someone in the class finally raised his hand and inquired, "Messieur, qu'est-ce que c'est cette chose verte que vous parlez?" The teacher stopped short, and explained briefly.  Of course this movement doesn't EXIST in France, it's simply a way of life... or is it?

Portland was always sort of top when it came to the Green Movement of the early 2000's, we had electric busses, a sort of recycling system that was foreward-moving.  I was taught how to maintain a compost in my apartment when I moved off by myself at 19, a lovely plastic box that magically transformed my waste into useable plant dirt.

Bri made me throw this away when he moved in with me May of 2009, he said it was disturbing to sleep in the apartment knowing there were worms in a vox- well to each his own.

You can imagine my shock when I moved to Lyon and was struck by a city that knew little of recycling or even how to lighten the carbon footprint.

Now, Europe, specifically Lyon, has their own methods and styles of what they call 'green', or in French éco.  I am constantly being pointed out that the Americans leave the water running during showers, or our wasteful use of electricity when we leave the house.

So in what ways does Lyon recycle and in what ways really need to be improved?


What They Do Well:

Organic Produce

Tuesday through Sunday are the market days, vendors, farmers and local producers haul out their natural and edible goods for us to purchase at a normal price.  The positive is that many of these producers are naturally organic or bio and leave us with a fabulous, non-treated product.

Recycling
An automatic response when I see someone throwing away a carboard box or can is, That is recyclable! My mother had ingrained it into my head, she would fish out any paper I would throw away and I was disgusted... of course now 7 years later I do the same.  In Lyon we have a recycling system in our apartment building, nice because you can toss all recyclables together into a giant container... the issue?

Showering in France
Water is truly seen as a resource in the eyes of a European so much so that when showering we have a five step process:

1. Turn water on, get water all over
2. Turn water off
3. Lather up with soap while water is off
4. Turn water on
5. Rinse

Usually the water only remains on for a total of 7 minutes, unlike our 20-30 minute showers in the United States.  This is the argument from most French people when I mention the 'green'ness of Americans, they can't see how we are green if we are so wasteful with a resource.  They are right.

The next is the consumption of electricity,

Lights Out
Bri was appalled at our waste of electricity in the US, and I see why.  In France we shut everything off in the evening, when we leave the house, when we are not in a room.  Electricity is very expensive so wasting it tends to not even be an option.  It's almost an anal-rententive reaction, every time you leave a room switch it off.  Eventually, it becomes ingrained into your mentality and you feel strange if a light is on in a room and no one is in it.

Velo'v System
Probably one of the greastest innovations in Europe, the Velo'v system, which originated in Lyon, has revolutionized public transportation by facilitating a bike-share system that is affordable and convenient for users.  For a fee of 15€ a year, a user has 30 minutes each trajet and the possibility to return at any depot.  Still waiting for an effective system like this in Portland.

Public Transportation
Europe is truly the master of public transport, never have I had an issue with a bus or a tramway or even an underground subway.  Fabulous system, mediocre priced... again much more adept to the green movement than in US.

To Be Improved:

Recycling
These containers are non-existant around the city.  When you drink a disposable coffee cup you have no choice but to toss in a normal trash can on the street.  There are more and more "dual trash cans" with the choice between yellow and green (yellow recyclable, green waste) but many people don't use this system effectively.

Organic Produce
Like in America, there has been this movement for Bio and Green Washing; this movement has left many store brands to stick a green label on the product without really even having proof... this label guarantees an augmentation of price between 10-25% above market price and... well needless to say it's not truly the concept of the green movement.

Composting
There is a non-existent system of composting in France that is left to be improved, while in San Francisco there are canisters of composting buckets that accepts any organic material to be composted, in Lyon I have found no way to get rid of material of this sort.

Over-all Lyon is ahead, but not the best in Europe... in fact I see piles of plastic cups sitting around in canisters and no composting... but I think the Green Fever is going to catch on and it won't be just a fad. 

Soirée Deguisement

I entered into the room and 15 sets of French eyes stared at me expectedly, I nodded, waved, and then noted that my friend was bustling around already giving the ‘bises’ and saying the appropriate ‘bonsoir’.  It was the first true party that I was invited to by my promotion or the people that are in your school program, they decided to do a sort of soirée déguisement or costume party.  Of course when I was packing my 3 luggages in 2010 I didn’t exactly think to pack up my costumes, none of my fairy dresses, wings or even cat costumes.  So for this soirée I was at a loss for a costume.  Lucky me, on one of my discoveries around Lyon that I came across a little magasin de déguisement owned by a typical round chubby Frenchman.  Costumes ranged between 10-15€ and I was able to pick up some cheap cat ears and a tail for only 11€.

We had worked our butts off all day, hashing through an etudes de cas which is simply a case study- French style.  Meaning: all in French, the whole head ache of French teams (shouting out ideas, hashing it out until you need to crawl to bed) and little to no direction.  From 8am to 5pm we worked, with little breaks and just a quick sandwich to keep it going.

Needless to say, we wanted to drink in massive quantities.  In order to try to get to the party and not feel totally left out since I am that silly étrangère, I got together with another girl in my class (a devil that night) and we métro’d it up to the host’s apartment.

Thus I found myself in a room of 15 French people, one from Israel, and myself.  I served myself a nice warmed up glass of Rum punch and began the drinking.  If I try to remember the conversations I had, well, I simply can’t.  There was some discussions regarding ‘French Fillers’, which will have to be on its own in a blog… it was hilarious.  Otherwise, typical questions such as comment est-ce que tu as appris de parler aussi bien Français que ça? or est-ce que c’est vrai que les filles sont « easy » aux USA ? Well.

The night got rolling, and seemed to pass by in a blur.  A couple of the class-mates decided to do a pretty funny mock-up of two “typical Americans” that sort of went like this:

Girl: Yesssss, yesssss, I uhm amahricannn, I eet zes burgurs uhn hei luhk beer!

Guy: Yoo luhk beer? Me hei lahk yoo shoe!

Girl: yess yess, zhis moosic ehs very nuhce!

Guy: I am agree!

I almost blew my warm rum cocktail out of my nose.

Another dude came up, typically a French person and popped in the most ghetto rap I’d ever heard.  I started, bouche bée and said, “What you’re like a gangster from the Bronx or what?”

5 coupettes of warm rum and tequila drinks later I was happily claquée and my French friend mentioned it was time to go.  I looked at the clock and we had at least 20 minutes, I said as much and she said, “Yes, but we have to make the rounds,” The rounds?

I watched as she began to circle around and make the bise with everyone, saying, bonne soirée (different than bon soir) and simply making some goodbye small talk.  Well, bother, so much for escaping with a quick wave and a bye-bye.  I began making me rounds, and although doing the bises is something I’ve done a millions times since I’ve lived here, this felt odd.

Bise.

Oui je dois partir, tu sais, pour le metro.

Bonne soirée.

Repeat about 50,000 times.

The best part was that my copine was much more bourrée than me and she was telling me all kinds of conneries.  We separated ways in the metro and I got on the last train with all the other alcoholic teenagers, etrangères, and clochards, and stared at a poster while I listened to the girl next to me, British, shouting out “SHOTS, SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS!!!!” over and over and over.

All in all, a good night!

Advice: Le Master in France

The day after mom left I had no time to be emotional, the sadness from the morning wore off as I returned to worked and drowned myself in telephone calls and student follow ups.  Quick enough that too passed and I found myself zombieing towards the direction of school to go to one of my many many classes for my Master's program in France.  That's right, after a year of intensive French via the CIEF program at Lyon II I enrolled into a specialty International Management Master under the Frenchity-French name of: Master 2 en Internationale Management des Petites et Moyens Entreprises et Entreprises Tailles Intermediares.  Simply put in our 25 people class slang, M2PMETI.

Classes officially started last week, of course I was stressing before they even begun.  I remembered the foreign students in my Business classes- how, in utmost honesty, I dreaded having them on my team because I knew we'd have to explain everything.  During roleplays we'd give them the easy role, minimalist lines and try to support them... I was going to become that foreigner.  A week before the classes were to start I already started to have nightmares, I would show up to class and suddenly all my French would disappear and I couldn't understand a word from the teacher ni the students.

Of course starting off wasn't super easy either, looking back at last week my notes are written in short-hand, scribbled nonsense sentences and sometimes a vocabulary word scratched on the top of the paper with a huge QUESTION MARK.  It was nice having some recognition for what I am doing, I kept mentioning l'importance de changer le stéréotype Américain, that, ce n'est pas juste que dans le domaine des affaires tout le monde faut parler en Anglais.  I pushed the fact that I was the only business student AMERICAN that I knew with such a fluent level and respect for the French culture.

See, most people who come over, come to sort of suck up the culture.  Learn about the literature, the gastronomy, cooking skills, methodology to teach French back in the States- I decided to utilize my strength and experience in Business and learn that aspect.

Plus a Master in France only costs like 250€ payable in 3 installements of 83€!  Calculating my Master costs in the US made my head spin- and I couldn't stand the fact I would have to rack up more debt to get an education.. so I bit the bullet and found a program that fit my goals and applied.

The interview was in July; with a lovely lady who seemed ravie that I had applied to the program.  I was the first American in a long time, I would be a great part of the program.. etc.  Plus I'd get to try and do an INTERNSHIP with a company in Lyon... which is another stress in my mind.....

Now the question, what is it like in a French Masters Program?

Well, hard of course.  There is always the language barrier- which some professors are kind and give lots of synonyms during their lectures so we foreigners understand- but unfortunately it's not always that easy.  I have one professor that talks so fast I only have a moment to digest what he said and get it until he suddenly jets off in a separate direction... I have the innate feeling he has a slight ADD... but it's dommage because he is one cute dude. (But married for those of you looking for the marriage way of staying in France).

I have a mix of classes, Business Plan classes, classes about the Industrial Economy... I think the hardest part about the information is the changing of the words.  In business the French have tried to find equivalent words for everything we already have jargon for in the States- for example a Greenfield Venture has now become ex nihilo.  WTF?

Now, probably wondering how to get all enrolled in a Master program in France?  It's quite easy:

1. Go to the Lyon 2 or Lyon 3 website and search what they offer as formations or masters
2. Pick out what you like and sign up online to deposer un candidature
3. Remember all those pesky documents: releves des notes, lettre de motivation, CV
4. Apply once all documents are ready
5. Wait for a response

If you are nervous about your carte de séjour running out- fret not because when you reapply you don't need proof of school until September.  They understand students are waiting for a response..

And word to the wise:  Don't attempt a Master's Program in France until you watch French news and understand what is going on.  Otherwise opt for an English based program (such as those offered at Lyon 3) or a language based program (such as the CIEF)

bonne chance!

a+

For the Ladies: The Gyneco

I finally did it, that most uncomfortable and dreadful thing that only a slew of message boards frightened me into turning around and never looking back.

About 4 months ago I decided, after pressure from my French mother, to book an appointment with a Gyneco in France.  A quick search online on exasperated the fear I had.  Some of my favorite lines that I read from reviews and message boards,

Elle a même pas lavé ses mains ou changé le drap sur le lit.  Ce n'était pas propre... quel horreur! = She didn't even wash her hands or changed the sheet on the table.  It was not clearn... what a horror!

J'avais saignement pendant trois jours de ma visite. = I was bleeding for 3 days after my visit.

And the scariest most horrific one was from a fellow blogger:

You undress in front of your doctor, you walk around the room naked while you’re doctor is there, you climb up on the table naked and there are no gowns or towels to cover anything, and you get dressed again with your doctor watching. - American in France

Naked?  Just walking around feeling the breeze on my bits?  I didn't think I could handle it so I put the task at my French mother to find me a good one.  After about a week she txted me:

J'ai demandé aux mes collègues, elles m'ont donné le nom "Lavagna"

Like lasagna, I could handle that.

I called in the beginning of May, and unfortunately, Mme Lavagna was booked until July.  I had a date set, July 21, which was yesterday.

Now I totally forgot about the visit, placed it a million miles away in the back of my mind so I wouldn't have to recall the millions of posts about bleeding for days, nakedness and awkward dirty clinics.  Except one can only forget for so long until it's the day off and you're on the bus hypervenilating and using google translate to figure out key phrases so you don't look like an idiot.

Sexuellement active
Maladies transmettre sexuellement
Les pilules

What was I doing?  Turn this bus around!

Of course, I didn't jump out the window, instead I actually went.  Hidden on the street was 168, I buzzed myself in and wandered upstairs.  A beep of the button and the receptionist was there, cheery and taking my information.  How tall am I? Is this my first time? Etc.

10 minutes of me fidgeting around in my seat later an older woman in jeans and a nice long sleeve shirt popped out and shook my hand.  Mme Lavagna, herself.  I was put off by her fashion, high heels and the fact she has a manicure.. but hey gynecos can look good too.

Yes, I had to get stark naked.  No it was not in front of her, she had a nice covered area where I could undress, but I was still de-clothed and strewn on with a light in my nether regions.  It was still unnerving that I was in what felt like someone's apartment, but she did have the equipment and a private room that felt like a doctor's office at home.

Is it ever a joy ride going to the gyneco? No.  But for 50 bucks in France I expected royal treatment, it wasn't the worse of stories, it was ok.  I felt like she was sort of rushing me out of the clinic and kind of procedurally doing things.  Screw small talk, get undressed, get on the table, 10 minutes and some pain later, get dressed, pay.

She did; however, ensure my prescription for birth control was covered by insurance and that the visit was also covered.

15 minutes later I was on the street.

So now I have to find a dentist.

a+

What-What: Le Diner Presque Parfait

When first moving to France the language was incredibly difficult, I studied like crazy trying to get the nuances behind French jokes, trying to hold a telephone conversation over the phone and even trying to just order some meat at the Boucherie.

When my French finally did reach that I'm no longer translating my English to French stage I was ecstatic and I tried to wrap myself in French television to see how much I actually did understand.  Suddenly I became accro to a television series that exists in France based on a very Frenchy concept- Hosting people for dinner.

Cue in Diner Presque Parfait.  Every day on M6 from 5:35 to 6:35 in the evening.

The story changes every week, on Mondays we are introduced to 5 individuals looking to win 1,000 euros by being the best host.  Each night one of the 5 participants must host the other 4 by creating a meal based around a theme.

Themes range from basic (flowers, gardens, sailing) to the ultimate passionate (rugby).  The hosts must create a menu of original ideas, starting with an aperitif, a little game between the guests, appetizer, main dish and dessert.


Sometimes the food is simply vile and we see this by the look on the contestants face, other times the food is fabulous and the scores reflect the quality.  All recipes are available on the website following the émission so if one really wants to remake the dish, they can!

At the end of the 5 days, after each host has participated the average scores are calculated and the winner is the one with the highest average.

The best part is the typical French style of the show, every few minutes the music changes, the people are scattered and yet clear when they talk, it's typical conversational French.

The show itself is known by most French citizens so it also offers a fun thing to discuss over a picnic with friends.

There was one that I watched that totally freaked me out, it was a *mime themed* night.  I detest mimes.  They are scary and that make up they wear only makes it worst.  I'm still waiting for the American theme...

a+

The French Paradox

There's this thought that goes around called the "French Paradox"... it's this concept that although the French eat higher amounts of cheese, wine, bread and whole fat milk products- they are much healthier than those in the States.  Now, I've been living in Lyon for over a year now.. and can I honestly admit this paradox?  Yes.  Yes I can.

When I first moved to Lyon I was about 64 kgs, or 141 lbs. This was a steady weight gain from first meeting Bri, to visiting Lyon in the winter time.. to not really focusing on getting in shape.  The tipping point was a trip to Spain.. I ended up gaining another kilo (2 lbs) and I was frustrated.. but I didn't change much of how I ate (just no croissants every morning of course).  I was a size 8-10, and I felt unhappy... so I decided to live French and hope for the best!

Bri + Me in Spain, August 2010

The biggest changes happened in regards to movement.  In the States I would constantly drive everywhere, to the gym, to the store... I would never walk.  In September 2010 I moved into my new apartment, on the 4ème étage 'sans ascensor'.  Meaning every day I climb down, I have to climb back up 102 stairs.  Often I go out maybe 2-3x a day, that's like 306 stairs!

Going grocery shopping meant walking 1/2 mile to the store, buying what's needed, hauling it back 1/2 mile and then up the stairs.

The French Paradox relies on several factors:

1. We walk everywhere, and elevators are rarely used.
2. We have a Velo'V system that allows us to bike all over the city,  for example I use this to go to work and back every day.. 1.5 miles each way.. so I bike 3 miles a day
3. The food we eat enables us to purchase more fruits/vegetables, which we eat, regularly
4. Our bread is usually whole grain and made fresh with no preservatives
5. Most our food is non-preservative laden
6. We eat only whole fat, non sugar added dairy products
7. Products rarely have corn syrup
8. We don't eat with salad dressing, only vinaigrette so we get our whole fats in our food as well as a daily dosage of vinegar
9. Often we drink one glass of wine a day
10. Our meals are often a few courses of smaller plates that aides in digestion

Now sometimes I splurge, I'll do patisserie items, or enjoy a lovely Sunday fat rich meal- but I rarely eat Fast Food, restaurants don't do take out and we eat several small meals a day.

Now.  Proof of the paradox?

 

Me testing my Spain bikini (July 2011)

I see the difference, definitely.  I'm now 56 kg, or about 124 lbs and a size 4-6.  I lost more than 15 lbs in a year, but with no starving myself and no intensive workouts- just simply a change of eating in the French Paradox way.  The largest change I saw was in my waist- I went from 29 inches to 25.5 inches.  I never lost to that point in the states- crazy!

My official goal is 54 kg, or 120lbs.  I find for my height, that weight is appropriate- but I know now it will come off as it wants to.

So.  Now Americans should try out the paradox...

a+

Not So Appropriate French Words

For me it is easy to pick up languages, I listen on the television, watch some French series.  I watch the news every morning on BFM television to see what actualities are up.  I often spend 2 weekends during the month at Brian's parent's house where I absorb and practice.

I've officially hit the level of French where no one teases me for huge errors nor accent mistakes- but little ways I pronounce my words they find cute.  I find it absolutely ridicule that they like my American accent.  I try my best to focus and really pronounce my words sans accent because I think the American accent sounds TERRIBLE.

I didn't, however, realize that the words we use around friends is probably not so appropriate around family or family friends.  I learned this Saturday night while enjoying an invitation to an old family friend.  I was surrounded by J and R, Bri's parents, and we wdere deep in discussion.  I spilled a bit of wine on myself and exclaimed, "PUTAIN!" The conversation stopped short, and about 6 pairs of beady French eyes stared at me.

J softly touched my arms and said, "Tu sais, ce n'est pas un mot très gentille...".  I felt aghast, wanted to run and hide in a closet.  In the States I rarely cursed around people, and it was never like I was a Sailor mouth or anything.  I looked down at my hands and looked back up to meet the beady eyes, "Qu'est-ce que c'est un meilleur moyen de le dire?" Then I got my next French lesson.  Appropriate curse words.

I guess I was always under the assumption the French were more liberal with curse words, I'd heard 10 year olds cursing in the street, parents cursing alongside them.  I would find out these people were in fact not being appropriate. Sex is freely portrayed around here, and the curse words that do pop on the screen are unblipped.  Also, when speaking a second language, these words have less meaning and so if it becomes a habit, it's one that is difficult to break.

Now my struggle and my retraining:

Putain will now be MINCE!
Salop will now be salaud.
Je vais pisser will now be je vais pipi ou je vais aller au toilette
Merde will now be mince.
La bite will not be said any more.

It's not easy.  I remember the day after I was talking about something and I almost slipped out a putain I covered it by saying instead; Pu----voirs... oui.. pouvoirs. The problem being putain is so much easier to say than mince, mince has a weird back of the throat I noise that I haven't quite mastered.

I guess lesson learned: just because you here the words every where does not mean they are appropriate everywhere.

a+

Poor Little Old Lady..

I remember in the states, specifically in Oregon, any time a little old lady passed, there would be an inkling to help.  Cross the street.  Get than can off of the top shelf.  Move off the seat of the bus so she doesn't go flying around.

France is a bit of a different world.  We already know that the driver's are insane and you can barely step off of a street corner without fear of being craser but worse is the behavior towards the elderly.

My story starts in a grocery store.  I was at the caisse popping my things onto the belt to get scanned, preparing my bags to pop the groceries in, because the dude moves so fast I never have enough time to shove it all away until he cries, the price.

The little old lady in front of me was trying desperately to keep up with the cashier, but was failing miserably.  For each item she was able to shakily put away, the cashier would shove over another four.  I finally realized that no one would help her, not even the cashier.  I wandered over, "Voudriez-vous d'aide madame?" I smiled.  The PLOL (poor little old lady) smiled a missing tooth smile and proclamed, "c'est TROP gentille madamoiselle", so off I went getting it all bagged and evenly weighed out.  At the end of paying she looked over at me and said, "Il n'y a beaucoup des gens comme vous, madamoiselle." (There aren't a lot of people like you) I nodded and responded, "Je ne suis pas Française, je suis américaine." (I'm not French, I'm American).  She smiled at me, and shuffled away.

The second story is on the bus.  I got onto the bus one day and it started to move, I noticed a little old lady coming on that could barely walk and had an oxygen machine.  As she shuffled down the aisles she was obviously having a difficult time not falling on her head, so I moved from my spot and held her still until she got into her seat.  Everyone just sat and looked away, as if she didn't exist!!!

So I was confused.  I finally asked around to friends what the deal WAS.  They explained to me that in general, if an elderly person cannot care for them selves, it's a dog eat dog world.  They need to learn how to survive in the world, because the helping hand is not always there.  Plus they respect the elderly as they don't want to make them feel frail or unable.

I still will always give my seat up, and help the old lady get the can.  I can adapt to cultures, but for this I will keep my personality.

-a+

Jean Pierre: Runner of the Rhône

If you are a resident of Lyon, you've seen him... for me it was a warm summer evening in 2010, and we were sipping on chilled rosé and eating charcuterie atop baguettes smothered in butter.  It was starting to turn dark over the horizon, the mouches were zipping around and our conversation had hit a silent lull.  From the distance, I could hear a rampage of cheering and clapping.  We lazily turned our heads towards the noise and saw it... fast as a flash the Old Man Runner.  Probably in his late 50's, maybe even his early 60's... he was running in bright orange shorts and a tight white tanktop.

He clearly showed defined runner's muscles.  As he ran by our picnic spot, the crowds went wild.. they cheered, shouted, one ado even jumped up, inspired, running beside him and trying to have a conversation.  Failed.  He slows down, unable to keep pace and cheers back to his friends, divulging the story.

I didn't understand what it was.. and I didn't until another year later.  It was May, last month, we decided to profit in the hot weather and have another picnic amongst friends.  Sure enough, the shouting started again.  I turned around, and spotted him once again... same jogging shorts, same tank top.  I smiled, because I finally knew I had reached the point Lyon was my second home.  This time I cheered, I whistled, I shouted my joy... and off he dashed.





Jean-Pierre the Runner of the Rhône, papy joggeur.  If you ever go to Lyon... go to les berges take in the sight and wave to Jean-Pierre...

http://ma-tvideo.france2.fr/channel/iLyROoafY2Qr.html

What-What: Paques

Ahh, easter.  When I was a kiddo in Forks, my grandmother would always have the most elaborate easter baskets prepared.  I'd find trails of jelly beans leading around the house and she would claim, "Well, Easter Bunnies certainly don't poop normal poop!"  It was always a pleasure going to the church (back when I was a Catholic) and hunting for eggs.  Coloring the eggs.  It's one of those happy memories that you hold in the back of your mind, and when it rolls around you almost expect that bushel of chocolate- step in France and her differences.

Easter, or paques as known in French, has a long history integrated with religion, the actual celebration is a bit different.  Instead of the 'Easter Bunny' there is the concept of a giant bell, or la cloche, that flies free and delivers morcels of chocolately goodness to children.

Apparently this tradition started as early as VII century, as the church would not ring the bells during the three days of paques- namely Good Friday through to Sunday.  Apparently during that century people kept claiming to see floating bells around- my opinion is they were getting a bit too happy with communion.

In all cases, there's not giant walking Easter Bunny- just a floating bell.

Egg hunting?  That definitely exists, but it's there we earn our chocolate- there are no lovely corporate baskets made up to lay at the food of the child's bed- instead the parents hide chocolate eggs and treats around their garden and the children 'fait la chasse' and gather up their goodies- a sort of like a working Halloween.

Typical food for paques:  just like my Grandma used to make- roasted lamb shank and a pot of lima beans.  It's quite delicious and it's the idea that we 'break lent' and return back to our normal lives.

The best part of Easter in France?  Monday is a holiday- thus we always get Monday off after Easter weekend.. just so we can continue relaxing and enjoying life of course.. which is how I had any time to write today.

I hope your Easter was great.. and for those in the States:  Sorry you have to work!

a+

What-What: Paul Bocuse

After dinner with my French family last night we watched a documentary on the life and current state of Paul Bocuse.  I recall that the moment I arrived in France I had no idea who Paul Bocuse was and why he was so important.  Interestingly enough he's definitely a famous personality in our little region and our city of Lyon- but he's also got a bit of a juicy history!

Paul Bocuse was born in the 1920's in the mountainous area of Collonges-au-Mont-d'Or near Lyon.  Born into a family of chefs, he began cooking quite young and helped to run his family restaurant "l'Auberge de Collonges".  Bocuse was involved in WWII, and following this went on to achieve a series of Michelin stars in his restaurant before beginning his last 30 years of marketing and branding.

Now, an old man at 85 years old, Bocuse sort of just panders around for money... I say this with a sort of 'gentillesse' but, in reality, the guy knows how to get money.  Once one of the most innovative chefs, now a man who utilizes his name to make as much as a profit as he can.  I'd like to highlight two of his most famous creations:

Soupe aux Truffes:  A simply delightfully rich soup that is composed of those oh-so-expensive truffles.  I probably will never make this at home, but I would love to try it when I have enough cash to eat at his establishments.  RECIPE: http://www.bocuse.fr/recettes/ficherecette.asp?id=199

Loupe de Méditeranée en Croute:  How can anyone go wrong with a sea bass bundled into a feuillité and served with a decadent sauce?  Always the one to push from 'fatty' to 'cardiovascular destruction' this takes a healthy dish and twists it into a buttery delight.  RECIPE: http://www.bocuse.fr/recettes/ficherecette.asp?id=194

However... there is more to this 85 year old dude, not only is he a keen marketer, a top chef and a legend to Lyon.. the guy is a virile as we say in French, or basically a love monkey.  Bocuse has three women that he has been seeing similtaneously for the last 30 or so years, officially married to one, he keeps three houses in order to satisfy his craving for different personalities... way to balance the love boat.

Raymone, Raymonde and Patricia.  Somehow we never truly hear about the fact Bocuse is a polygamist, most likely because his amazingly talent in the kitchen leads us to sort of forget the three-women syndrome.  Why 3?

One of them is his hunting/outdoors partner.  Every day, after waking up next to his wife (Raymonde) he wanders out to his forest home to see his lover (Patricia).  Together they walk around the lake, slowly taking in the scenery.  He makes open-fire meals from the animals they fish or hunt together... a parade of hunting dogs following behind.

Once this gets boring, he heads out with the other one for his foreign affairs, her with her coiffed up hair and pristine young look, perfect for photos and the superficiality.  She loves to travel, so she comes with him oftern around the world.

What about his actual wife?  Well she's there for any official 'local' publicity.  Taking photos with the chef dressed in his toke, smiling and still looking as though none of this is abnormal.

It's strange.. but yet so French?  It seems more of a parisian attitude to have mistresses and lovers, and the Lyonnais tend to be more on the 'stick to one' type of relationship.. but Bocuse opens that for discussion.

Outside of Bocuse's private life he runs a few restaurants in Lyon.  Le Sud, Le Nord, L'Est, L'Ouest.  He also has the original restaurant located on the collonges-au-mont-d'or... for a price.  By far, L'Est is the best restaurant out of his collection.

Want to catch a glimpse of the master?  Try mornings at Les Halles next to La Mère Richard.. that's an old French and cheesemaker so he oftens makes visits to share a coffee and a laugh.

Now I wonder if anyone ever noticed this...

BOCUSE = GUSTEAU?  Perhaps....

a+

What-What: The French Breakfast

When I first moved to France we would spend the weekends with Bri's family and they would bring us a typical French breakfast.

In the States we usually have our eggs, toast, bacon and a cup of coffee, sometimes we opt for pancakes or french toast.  In France a typical breakfast is much less food, much more carb and very heavy in fat.

The croissant, the flaky and buttery pastry that is sold all over France and at explosive prices in the States.  The croissant is the most common breakfast pastry in France and is usually eaten simply with a cup of café au lait.

These pastries are exceptionally heavy and often made by layering pastry over pastry smeared with butter.

A famous and delicious variation is called the croissant aux amandes and it is AMAZING.

The pain au chocolat is a variation on the croissant, made with the same ingredients except folded over a few sticks of chocolate.  A fresh pain au chocolat will be melty and seemingly fall apart.

Typically breakfast is light and eaten leisurely, a glass of orange juice can accompagny the breakfast.  If it's not the weekend, it is more common to have some biscottes smeared with butter and jam or some petits madeleines.  As everywhere in the world, one can also eat cereal or toast.. but eggs are always reserved for lunch or dinner.

Pancakes and french toast are considered a dessert and eaten after dinner.. but in my experience the French are open minded and having pancakes for breakfast can be perfectly appropriate (but not typical).  

I often will serve pancakes to Bri on the weekend, usually for brunch.. with some fresh sliced fruit and a nice crème fermière... delicious.

Instant Coffee Sucks

Brian's parents drink the stuff every morning before work- but I don't know how much sugar or milk they use to mask the flavor.

It tastes like old sock juice.

I'm down to my last bag of Long Bottom coffee my mom sent me back in December and I needed an afternoon pick-me-up.  All the friend people I know have this stuff in their cabinet- and I had a jar from like a year and a half ago.





I heated up water.

Me n Sock Juice

Tossed in 1 1/2 tsp of granulated instant coffee.

Stir.

Drink.

BLEGH.

Repeat until contents are empty.






Living in France has some minor faults- the espresso is great, but it's not such a culture of big cups of coffee.  I am definitely missing the big fluffy couches and the ginormous lattés for only like 2 bucks.  Portland = stumptown, Lyon = sockjuice town.

More tomorrow.

What-What: Speed'Apero

"Yes... but uhhh.. it's like Speed Apero, you know?  They deliver.."  L. started into her speech; we have weekly lessons where she practices English and I correct her.  I feel weird charging her the money since she really teaches me a lot- but that's another story. 

"Woah woah, Speed Apero?"  I stared at her, potentially her pretty French head was making fun of me.  She nodded, completely serious, "You have got to be kidding me."

"Yes, wee hauve ay serveece zat deeleevers alcool at party.", she nodded, quickly opening her computer to prove she waz not lie-eeng.  "Uhnd all-zo condooms, eww see?  Drinks!"

I looked through the page and laughed to myself, "You know, L, that is surely going into my blog."  She stared at me this time.. only because she needed an explanation of 'surely' and 'blog'.

Speed Apero.  Ever been to a party in France and you realize it's starting to get sèche and all the booze is suddenly dry?  Well, it's never happened to me.. but if it does now I have a magical emergency number that will speedily deposit an over-priced bottle of alcohol, cups, ice and accompaniments at my door.

This isn't like a skizzy neighborhood drunk you hire to go grab some chips, no my friends, this is a classy business complete with a website:  http://www.speed-apero.com/

Listed from 'Champagnes' to 'Fun Pack' and even the 'Gateaux Apéros'; you cannot go wrong with this awesome selection... imagine you are at a dinner party and suddenly out of wine!  Pick up the phone, dial up the Apero Dudes (I call them that) and they are at your door with a bottle.. only about 50% more than a grocery price.  Plus it's 10% off to pick it up at their shop.. although in that case it sort of destroys the service and paying the price.

Not listed on their website is the fact they will also deliver condoms.. I didn't ask my student how she was aware of this tidbit- but she nodded as if it really came in handy.

 Seriously.  This is so on my list of things to try in Lyon... here's the contact.  Join me in the Apero Fun.

Tel : 04 72 87 00 00
http://www.speed-apero.com/

p.s. you can even order online.  n'importe quoi!!

Culture Shock: Honestly French

I was at a party talking freely about some political subject when a French girlfriend pointed at my shirt and said, je n'aime pas trop cette style.  I gaped, I didn't know how to respond.  I sort of brushed it off and continued my conversation about some minister I saw on the Grand Journal.  A few days later, I made dinner for my French parents and I proudly put the finishing touches on my sauce.  After taking a bite of the meat, his mother stated, la sauce est super bon, par contre cette viande est un peu sèche.  I nodded, in agreement.

You see, the French are honest people, if they have an opinion about something it's openly stated without any hesitation.  This brutal honesty comes as a shock to those of us from the West Coast.  Those of us used to the gentil words, the false smiles and the fake positive responses.  You don't like someone's shirt you say, "I love that shirt!", someone gained some weight you smile and note, "Have you lost weight?".

It took me a long time to get used to this French quality, there aren't a lot of smiles passed between random people unless you know them.  It's considered just strange to say one thing and then go behind someone's back to say another.  This form of honesty has lead to personal issues between me and family, miscommunication between friends and sometimes just over-all miscomfort.  While there is a list of reasons I find this honesty negative, there is an equally long list of why I love it.

This honesty can be considered positive simply because you always know what page someone is on, you know their opinion and there are no surprises.  You shirt is ugly, well, better someone tell you.  Your laugh is weird, better you know then to have everyone think it an never say it.

It's important not to be too sensitive as an American in France, I take the quips and straight-forwardness as a way of knowing someone cares.  Lying is so common in our culture that I took for granted the fact that we can be simply honest and it's not a bad thing.

In September of 2010 I realized the quality of French friendships versus American friendships and a huge part of this; in my opinion, is attributed to the blunt honesty in the culture.  I say I will call, I call.  I say you're my friend, you're my friend.

Is it so bad to live in a culture where there are no secrets and hidden opinions?  I don't think so.