We are in the USA this week, our first visit since leaving for Paris. We’re marveling at the differences. Kiddo keeps trying to turn on the lights from the outside of the bathrooms (for those of you who don’t know, french bathrooms have the light on the outside…)
Temperature: 1 degree in Paris, 22 in California.
Salsa: nowhere, everywhere.
Sunshine: rare, prevalent
Curt says everything seems really big: Supermarket aisles are really big, so are products. (People also.) Our son in law has a 48 can box of beers in the garage, and we’re amazed.
And, the thing that I really noticed is how much the waiters say their name to us here. I hadn’t really noticed this much before I left but knowing a waiters or waitresses name is not appropriate or necessary in France. It struck me as overly familiar or something. Food service in Paris is a career. People take great pride in it, and they earn decent money, and so there’s not a solicitousness in the hopes of getting a bigger tip. It’s built into the bill, into the normal transaction. There was a great piece written up about the “notorious French waiter” while we were here, worth reading: http://www.wsj.com/articles/in-defense-of-the-notoriously-arrogant-french-waiter-1424371178
But the one thing California has that Paris does not?
Our Kids and Grandkids!!!! This one is saying, he’s on top of the world.