Follow the adventures of Liesha Stone –a sister trying to make a new life in the city of love, Paris. This week Liesha’s escapades take on a decisively more political theme…
I must admit I am falling in love with Paris. We have had a bubbly courtship over the past six months as I quickly discovered that just because you speak the language it does not mean you can really understand the people. But where I once thought the Parisians were just rude and aggressive, I now just see them as direct with no bullshit. While in London you often have to guess what someone is really thinking, no matter what is coming out of their mouth, you do not have that problem here. They are also less sensitive to criticism, and so you have to learn to become so yourself in order to survive.
For example, one thing I became aware of is that we Brits say sorry a lot. You know, “I’m sorry I cannot help you,” etc. But I quickly realized not to say sorry in that context over here, when I told a colleague who asked me to cover a meeting for her that I was sorry but I could not. She rounded on me. “You are not sorry, are you, so why do you say it?” she almost screamed, and – you know what? – she was right. I did not give a toss, but it has just become something we Brits always say.
Here, sorry means to be very remorseful about something, and they take real exception if you say it as a light refrain for an indiscretion or being unable to help. They feel you are taking the mick, and it makes them even more angry and aggressive. This is just one example of many that nobody tells you about when you are learning a language, and you can only learn these things once on the ground.
But as time has gone on I have found my way around these culture differences and am becoming more comfortable here than I ever thought I could when I first arrived.
The main thing I love here is the quality of life. Back in London I worked from 9am to 8.30pm and sometimes even then I felt guilty leaving the office if my boss was
still around.
Over here I work from 9am to 6pm Monday to Thursday, and on Friday I finish at noon. At last I am finding time to have new experiences, learn new skills and, of course, socialize, which is a
big activity over here that work never gets in the way of. The only cloud, though, is my financial situation.
When I moved over here last October, I took the decision to rent my home out in London. Of course it seemed only sensible at the time, but last week I was offered a permanent contract – yippee! – and now I would like to make a full-scale move to Paris.
But between October ’08 and today, the pound has dropped by 30% in value against the euro. So if I were to sell up in London and move out here, it would be like someone stole £100,000 out of my pocket. Now that hurts.
I have become so Parisian now that I am quite used to my shoe box of a flat, and what I would like to do is what all even averagely well-heeled Parisians do: I’d like to buy a nice home in Provence (the regions circling Paris).
While in England to have a house in the Home Counties you have to be seriously rich, in France you can do this on a modest income – especially since most people rent their flats in Paris at much lower rates than you can in London.
And that is why, every Friday evening, there is an exodus of half of Paris out to their homesteads in the country.
With the money from my small flat in London I could have brought a 3,000-sq-ft residence in 2 acres of garden all for about 500,000 euros. That was only £300,000 back in October, but now it’s more like £460,000. Its amazing that, even in Paris, London’s collapsed economy is screwing up my life. I think it is time to make a clean break from my old city and embrace my new home.
