C'est comme ci, comme ca

One advantage of staying in a place for longer than a couple of days is that one comes to see the place, warts and all. It's a bit like a relationship in the sense that once the first bloom of love comes off, there is a certain realization that this is a real person with all the quirks and foibles that you, I or anybody else possesses.

The observation emanates from a conversation my wife said she had with a fellow student the other day, in which the other woman asserted that much in North America is wrong, corrupt and wasteful, whereas all that transpires in the rest of the world, and certainly in Europe is fine, noble and altruistic.

Wendy was piqued by her observation, and avoiding the impulse to mutter "bullshit", she instead asserted the virtues that she, as a woman, gained from being in North American society and that while it wasn't perfect, it was so much better that the lives of her sex in societies in which women had very secondary roles, and in some cases were treated barbarically.

I tend to agree with her. I agree not because she is my wife, but because I respect her intellect and observations, and because I have lived in Europe before and came to the conclusion after a year living abroad that the life would be good if one were very rich and privileged but that I, home in Canada, had a much fuller life and wasn't restricted due to social status, my accent or accident of birth.

As I have said in this space, there is much to be cherished here in France, but there are also elements I would find frustrating and alien in terms of what I am used to. Today is All Saints Day, or Toussaint in France. That means that virtually everything is closed as tight as it might be at home on Christmas Day (and only on Christmas Day). Toussaint is only one such shut everything down event. Coming up is Remembrance Day, on Nov. 11. It will be the same thing. Therefore, one must be prepared to adjust everything from travel plans to ability to acquire groceries. This morning I needed a litre of milk. Fortunately for me I live just down the street from the Moroccan enclave in Grenoble. Moroccans are Muslim. Toussaint means diddly to them, so I was able to get milk from one of their shops. Otherwise I would have been SOL. But on any given day it is difficult to deduce when any business might or might not be open. There seems to be no fixed rule.

Other little irritants include the fact that becomes obvious very early on that nobody, absolutely nobody picks up after their dogs, so there is canine effluvia everywhere. Likewise, the French are very heavy smokers. In front of this hotel, as only one example, there are cigarette butts all over the walkway. There is also a butt receptacle on the wall. It is very lonely. It never seems to get any attention whatsoever.

But, such things considered, don't get me wrong. I am having a fabulous time here. I love most elements of the culture, and I like the people very much, even if, with my hopeless French, I can only understand about 20% of what they say. As I have said, too, the public transit system is superlative, and should be the envy of many North American cities and towns. Look at the sexy interior of the local streetcars I have pictured here. Swift, sleek, comfortable and cheap. I'm sure they're hugely subsidized for the fares to be so low, but there are huge advantages for both the public and the environment.

And, as I said, the pastries, mousses and other such confections are to die for. So, I continue to cherish all that is transpiring with me here, and will always value the experience and the personal growth I have gained.

On the other hand, I have a bitch of a cold and am feeling thoroughly sorry for myself. Oh, and I do wish I could get more on TV than just three English language news services. Some evening entertainment would be nice. But, that's a trivial point.