Occasionally, a bunch of dark coats men wait at the next station: tickets collectors. Upon seeing them, weird things would happen: people of all age would run towards the nearest doors, some would pull washed out tickets out their bags and pockets and punch them quickly, some would distribute extra-tickets around them and the consensus would be “putain!*”.
Browsing: Cultural Differences
Rock’n’roll stars, rap artists, rednecks, tycoons, politicians, lobbyists, aliens… North America has it all. But there’s one category that have never traveled across the ocean from its beloved old continent : the nobility.
Leaving France was not an obligation but just an option. A very tempting one, mind you. The world might be watching us eat, smoke and have sex with a disdainful smile, yet it casts envious eyes. But we know the other side of the story : no jobs, almost impossible to rent a place to live, a country stuck in the days of its glory.
I finally came to my sense before embarrassing myself by asking the stupid question. Of course I wouldn’t find wine in a supermarket. I was in Ontario !
Oh Canada ! Since coming from France a few years ago, I experienced Canada in many different ways, some good, some bad…
Standing in front of a busy LCBO meant attracting all kind of weirdos. I was known as the “flower girl” and people would stop by and talk to me about their life, their kids, their problems. Without buying flowers, of course. People would first speak to me in all kind of foreign languages : Russian, Lebanese, Italian, Spanish, Greek… I guess I did look like an immigrant !
I knew Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Hinduism—and that was about it. I was—and I still am—clueless about Pentecostalism, Anglicanism, Baptists, Methodists, Lutheran, Presbyterian, Pentecostal/Charismatic, Episcopalian/Anglican, Seventh-Day Adventist, Born Again etc. And what the hell is “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints”? A bunch of people who believe they will eventually end up in Heaven because they have the longest religious group name ever???
See, I grew up in France in what North Americans call an heritage building. I mean, you would probably take a picture of it. Six storey, white façade, balconies, big wooden door leading to an inside courtyard, wooden stairs.
–I swear to god, you’re not speaking French. We’re all American here, we don’t understand…
See, back in France, it was quite simple. I had a small black & white TV with a broken antenna I had to trap between a pile of books and the edge of the couch in order to get a clear reception. I only watched TV when : 1) I was copying Chinese lessons 2) I was drawing 3) I was plucking my eyebrows.Well, yeah. What was I supposed to do ? Watch it ??
English wasn’t popular. French don’t like English much (“they put vinegar on chips and eat meat with mint sauce !”), and the relationship with the USA has always been a bit rocky (“these warmongers/ burgers-eaters !”), so there were basically no incentive to learn.
We were three friends sit at a small wobbly wooden table, set half on the sidewalk, half on the curb side of the dusty road. We just came back from a bar where my roommate’s Chinese boyfriend was performing and we were starving, craving for a platter of jiaozi. It was a hot and humid night in Nanjing, China.
I have an ongoing love & hate relationship with cars. I like cars. They hate me.
It all started when I was 17. After I completed the compulsory 50 hours driving ed, I registered for the test.
I love testing new food when I travel. Sometimes you get lucky, sometimes you don’t… but you end up with some pretty cool stories to brag about !
Here is my top five of the weirdest things I ate.
Il y a presque 5 ans, je débarquais pour la première fois de ma vie en Amérique du Nord. En ce mois de janvier 2007 le plus chaud que nous ayons connu jusque là (janvier sans neige à Ottawa, c’est plus rare qu’une dent dans la bouche d’un joueur professionnel de hockey !), voici un petit point culturel sur les différences entre les deux côtés de l’Atlantique.