A French pedestrian’s unexpected burst of speed prompts Justin Postlethwaite to ponder cross-Channel courtesy and contrariness…
Credit where credit is dueor, as the French rather cerebrally, indeed biblically, say, “rendre à César ce qui est à César”, which translates as ‘render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s’. The credit in question relates to a recent, scarce sighting in France: a pedestrian crossing a passage piéton (zebra crossing) at a pace faster than a lazy Burgundian escargot. I say ‘scarce’ because experience tells me that a French person crossing the road is in no hurry whatsoever, and will never succumb to the unspoken social pressure of ‘getting a bit of a move on’ just to placate waiting road users. Of course, I am not referring to those who are genuinely unable to ‘get a move on’ for whatever reason, be this medical or otherwise.
On this occasion, not only did the pleasant pedestrian a hip young man of about 20 years old with his hands in his pockets and a skinny clope hanging nonchalantly from his thin-moustache-topped mouth- increase his speed beyond standard walking pace. Не actually moved up a gear into the faux-jogging motion that indicates someone doing their best to please impatient drivers (of which I am not one, I like to think). He removed the roll-up from his mouth and smiled courteously; I raised my hand in appreciation at the faux-jog, and everyone was the better for this fleeting coming together of Anglo-French manners.
A FRENCH EXCEPTION
The reason this occurrence stood out is because the French and I am more than happy to be corrected by readers who feel otherwise are generally not people-pleasers*. The most obvious example of this, which any reader who has ordered a café au lait on a Parisian sidewalk terrace will attest to, is the famed ‘rudeness’ of the capital’s waiters. Our columnist Stephen Clarke, who lives in Paris, has alluded to this regularly and amusingly in his sideways glance at life in the City of Light.
Personally, I can accept the serveurs’ sniffy aloofness – it lends a certain amusing theatricality to proceedings – provided that the service is effective and courteous (which it usually is). In their mind, they are merely being professional and have little inclination, or time, to engage in idle chit-chat. The French have a collective sense of self-assuredness and focus regarding the job in hand.
TO EACH HIS OWN
The contrarian that I am, I much prefer this sullenness to the boutique sycophancy which is creeping into the French shopping experience nothing gets my goat (ça me rend chèvre, say the French!) quite like being jumped upon by an eager clothes shop employee who, before one has even reached the first rail of polo shirts, enquires if you are looking for “quelque chose en particulier aujourd’hui?”.
Those more forgiving than myself would call this common courtesy. I call it professional people-pleasing. The French might say lèche-bottes (bootlicker) since there is no direct translation of ‘people-pleaser’, which actually infers a gentler approach. In my head, I want to reply ‘Un peu de tranquillité, s’il vous plaît’, (a little peace, please) but ingrained British politeness makes me blurt: ‘Non, je regarde un peu, merci. (No, I’m just looking, thanks). In short, à chacun son goûtslow down and let the French do things their way.
*As a disclaimer, and call me a lèche-bottes, but there are exceptions to all of the above examples, notably in the wonderful French tourism industry, in which France Today is fully immersed it is packed with passionate -purveyors of pleasure.
From France Today Magazine
Lead photo credit : Photo: Shutterstock
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