France's new look

Sarkozyism is dead. French voters made it very clear this Sunday that any affinity they may once have had with their President is over. He has not made them richer, and he has not made them feel better about their country. With his abrasive personality and divisive insistence on a ‘National Identity Debate’, French voters were seeking someone they could feel less bullied by.

Furthermore, Sarkozy’s arch rival within his own party, Dominique de Villepin, has announced that he is breaking away from the UMP and will lead his own ‘movement’ from June onwards. All the supermodel wives in the world can’t make Sarko look good right now.

As a result of the elections, the Socialists now control 21 out of 22 of France’s departments, having taken Corsica away from Sarkozy’s UMP. However, they didn’t win this campaign through any solid policies or clear-sighted ideological progression. They won because no one can stand the short man in the Elysée Palace. This is clear from the rate of abstention, which stood at 53.6% in the first round and almost 50% in the second. Although stay-at-home voters hit the right harder, the overall disgust with politicians of all stripes in France is all too apparent in this figure.

That said, in politics a victory is a victory, however it is won. The Socialists are now well-placed to establish themselves as a national and international force for the presidential election in 2012. It must be remembered that the Socialists already controlled 20 out of 22 départements before the regional elections, so this result boosts them on a local level while giving them the image of a set of real leaders in advance of 2012.

However, as Laurent Joffrin, journalist for the leftist Liberation newspaper points out, “Everything remains to be done”. The question of leadership remains a gross problem, as Ségolène Royale and Martine Aubry battle to be seen as leader-in-waiting, with Dominique Strauss-Kahn also watching quietly from the wings. Aubry was seen as the most effective player in the regional elections, working in a coalition with green parties such as Daniel Cohn-Bendit’s Europe-Ecologie to maximise votes in some regions, and calling on Sarkozy for a “change of politics”.

The other problem in French politics was the “belle montée” of the Front National. In its heartland, such as the Provence-Alpes-Côte Azur region, the FN polled 23% of the vote. In one town, Orange, parties of the extreme right polled 47% of votes in the first round, of which 36% were for non-FN parties and 11% were for the FN. That may be an exception, but the fascists have been galvanised by Marine Le Pen, the daughter of Jean-Marie, who has injected vigour and a mainstream feel into the FN’s style of politics.

The Socialists will celebrate their success this week, but the combined forces of Villepin, voter apathy, and the FN’s exploitation of white working class problems should not be underestimated as they look ahead to 2012.

You can also read this post on Liberal Conspiracy here.

Left: English pet Right: French school dinner

Enough worthy political articles, I hear you say. What we, your legions of readers, really want to know is what they’re eating. Lo, I provide.

So what are the Frenchies eating? Still frogs’ legs, tripe, and pigs’ feet?, you chortle. Well, yes, actually. They’re mostly consuming the same things they’ve enjoyed for the last few centuries. Overcooked vegetables, a lot of obscure bits of meat, delicious baked goods, and plenty of cheap wine.

It does of course depend on where you happen to be in France. In Paris, they are eating falafel, sushi, and Thai food, just like all the residents of most western capital cities. Out here in the provinces, however, things are a little more trad.

As means of demonstration, we will take my lycée, whose food is mostly very good, and whose chef’s name is mentioned on the school’s website.

At school, you choose an entrée, plat du jour, dessert, and cheese. I have eaten paella, mussels, delicious beef stews, patisserie “maison”, and a lot of good fromage. What is more amazing than the range is that the kids happily eat all this stuff. On the day of moules-frites, I saw hundreds of fifteen year olds expertly extracting from their bowls of mussel shells, and then going on to eat yoghurts and fruit to finish. The concept of the “fussy eater” does not seem to exist, because if you don’t like the dish of the day you will end up with a plate of one carbohydrate and some vegetables in butter.

At Christmas they had foie gras, which I disagree with and don’t eat, but was still impressed by in a run-of-the-mill academic establishment in the middle of France. Centering for a moment on the concept of “disagreeing with food”, what, you ask, do vegetarians do? They don’t. Since being here I have met precisely one vegetarian, who seemed to have a pretty miserable time eating the aforementioned boiled-to-mush vegetables with buttery pasta.

Sometimes the meat and offal is too much for me. Last week the options on Tuesday were veal or kidneys. Another dark day was choosing between rabbit or ‘sanglier’ – wild boar.

Attitudes and shopping habits are changing in France. Obesity is catching on, with Macdo and Quick Burger. You can find the same kinds of processed crap in every French supermarket that we have in the UK (or US). However, some things remain sacred.

1) Bread. No French person would be seen dead freezing their bread. You buy bread fresh, every day, from the boulangerie down the road, no questions asked. One baguette per family member, with half for lunch and half for dinner.

2) The Sunday meal. Still an observed tradition. As I have written before, Sunday is dead in France, even in some quartiers of Paris, because people see their family, and eat together. They will also pay a visit to the patisserie, spending unbelievable amounts on amazing gateaux, and macaroons for the kids. Most families will cook up a large, roasted chicken or joint of meat.

3) The courses. The idea of someone saying “can I have this starter as a main course”, or “I want the formule, , but no dessert” would be considered in quite poor taste. The French like a strict meal composition, and if you don’t want three proper courses you can go and make your own damn food, crétin.

On the whole, you need to eat French food the way the French do, or you will put on gross amounts of weight. ONE croissant with a black coffee, not a pain au chocolat, pain au raisin, jam, and cereal. Don’t eat a baguette to yourself with butter in one sitting. Eat a French sized portion of pudding, which does not mean the whole cake. The French do not, as a rule, eat between meals either, except a bit of grignoter – nibbling – with an aperitif.

Finally, if you don’t like intestines, stomachs, and feet on your plate, don’t, whatever you do, go to Lyon.

Peggy Derder, Nadir Dendoune and Nadia Lamarkbi, three French professionals in their thirties, have hit upon the idea of la journée sans immigrés, or the day without immigrants. They are encouraging anyone who is an immigrant, of immigrant origin, or who feels solidarity with immigrants and wants to contest their treatment in France to stay at home and not buy anything for one day.

The idea is to make the rest of France see how different their country would look (and how much less money would be spent in French businesses) if France’s minorities did not exist.

Peggy Derder, one of the movement’s organisers, who is Algerian-French, said:

« On a voulu se placer en amont des discriminations et de ces questions qui résultent d’un discours stigmatisant. S’attaquer à la racine et pas aux symptômes. » [Source rue89.com]

“We wanted to put discrimination into the foreground, as well as those questions which result from a stigmatising discourse. Attack its root and not its symptoms”

The demonstration will also highlight the kinds of jobs immigrants do in France if they all disappear for one day. The lack of discrimination laws due to the government’s “colour-blind” policy means that affirmative action or quota systems do not exist here. What this means in practice is that the lack of black or Arab faces in the professions, and their excess in menial work and manual labour goes undocumented.

The journée sans immigrés also seems apt given that a UMP (Conservative) mayor has just called a black socialist candidate, Ali Soumaré, a “délinquant multirécidiviste chevronné” i.e a seasoned and habitual criminal-delinquent.

The candidate in question spent a few months in prison for a stealing a car when he was around 18, and was later also charged with driving without a licence. He has subsequently been charged with “rébellion à agent de la force publique”, but this has yet to come to court, so by law he must be presumed innocent.

However, these offences mostly took place over a decade ago, and he has assured the public that he has left his criminal behaviour behind in order to help his community progress. M Soumaré is now the great hope for the the politically unrepresented minorities of France and, on a personal level, in his neighbourhood. Ali comes from the Val d’Oise, a struggling Parisian suburb, and his candidacy for the regional elections this year is all the more notable for the fact that there are currently no black or Arab mayors in France whatsoever, despite 10% of the population coming from an ethnic minority.

The journée sans immigrés will allow French people to see how integral immigrants have become to their nation, and what would be lost if they, and their French born descendants, weren’t around. They will have to face up to something that is all too often quietly swept aside by white French people a socially conservative media and political system. As Peggy Derder argues, racism in France is often not overt, but rather more insidious. She says:

« Ce n’est pas l’Italie, ce n’est souvent pas directement xénophobe. Mais c’est plus sournois, plus malsain. » [rue89.com]

“It’s not Italy, it’s often not directly xenophobic. But it’s more underhand, more unhealthy”

Perhaps France’s all-white 1st of March will expose a nation to the dull reality of a world without the vibrant changes in music, culture, and cuisine that its immigrants have effected, in addition to their aforementioned economic contribution.

The movement’s official website

Flowers

comme une fleur – “Like a flower” actually means effortlessly, seemingly without trying.

à fleur de peau – someone who is “sensible à fleur de peau” is extremely sensitive or touchy. The sense is, I think, of having the material of a flower for skin, and therefore very fragile and easy to damage.

faire une fleur à quelqu’un – lit. “do/make a flower for someone” means do them a favour.

Eggs

va te faire cuire un oeuf! – go and cook an egg. Basically means “bugger off”.

quel oeuf, ce type! – what an idiot, this one!

Guele

la guele -  means “face”, but you can say “ferme ta guele” – shut your face, “faire la guele” make a face, both of which we have in English, but best of all you can “gueler après quelqu’un” – lit. face after them, which means have a go at them. A “guele du bois”, or face of wood, is also a hangover.

Colonialism

pied-noir – black foot. A person born and raised in Algeria when it was French who was white but who considered Algeria to be their home. The pieds noirs had their passports taken away from them when Algeria won its independence, and had many bureaucratic and social problems resettling on the mainland.

béku – a similar term for a white person living in the French West Indies.

Drinking and smoking

ça carbure sec ici – it’s running dry (like an engine from lack of oil) in here – they’re really knocking them back here. Carburer, usually used for petrol, is also used when people get really drunk, the same idea of liquid running out (from bottles or engines) in both cases.

il crapote – he doesn’t inhale

Others

imbittable – a “bitte” is a penis, but “imbittable” means “fucking hard to understand”. Possibly related in some way to the English word “impenetrable” in this sense.

frilleur/frilleuse – someone who gets cold easily.

travail du gratte-papier – work of paper-scratching i.e. penpushing

perdre la boussole – to lose the compass i.e. to go crazy/bonkers.

lèche-vitrine – window display licking. Window shopping, but with much more of the sense of being a fashion victim in the French.

Really quite rude ones

j’en ai ras le cul – Lit. My arse is so full of it. Means “I’m sick of it”

ça me fait chier – Lit. that makes me shit (myself). Means “That really annoys me”. Can also use “tu me fais chier”, which means YOU give me that feeling.

Anecdotal evidence suggests no one French voted for Sarko

What is interesting about Sarkozy, or ‘Sarko’ as his name is usually spat, is that you will never find a French person who admits to voting for him.

“Pas moi”, is the usual response, or sometimes “Mais les Français regrettent leur décision”. I tend to think that “Les Français” means “I” in the latter case. However, to admit to liking Sarkozy is about as socially acceptable as being vegetarian. If I ever mention the hated name of Sarkozy in the salle des profs (admittedly a left-wing bunch), people practically hiss, as though there is some kind of bad spirit in the room.

So what’s the problem? Well, Sarko’s outlook is not French at all. He loves business, is fond of money, and thinks that if people want to work hard and become filthy rich as a result they should be able to do so. Essentially, he should have been born British or American.

This was evident in his appearance on TF1 on Monday, when he was asked about the dual salary of the Chairman of Veolia, Henri Proglio, who is also temporarily at the head of EDF, the French energy company. Proglio is therefore earning 1.6 million euros, which has outraged a France in difficult financial circumstances. Sarkozy’s point was that if you want the best, you have to pay for them.

This does not sit well with a nation where to describe oneself as a “militant socialist” is completely normal, and where a 35 hour week was embraced by a majority of people. At my lycée a full time teacher has 18 hours of classes a week. This attitude means the French are healthier and have a better work-life balance, but it does not allow for a 24 hour attitude towards business that now prevails in other western countries.

Sarkozy is essentially trying to remodel France along the lines of Britain or the US, even in small ways like allowing more shops to open on Sundays, encouraging freer overtime, and asking teachers (gasp) to work “heures supplementaires” (Extra hours).

Just today, his rival Dominique Villepin was cleared of all wrongdoing in the Clearstream affair. What had been positive news for Sarkozy, that his nearest rival had attempted to smear him, now leaves him looking vulnerable against a man who will inevitably accuse Sarkozy of smearing him for the smear, and who may run against him for the candidacy for the Presidency in 2012.

Finally, he also wants a national debate on French identity, emphasising the “responsibilités” of each citizen, which comes over as moralising and narrow-minded to his compatriots. This has also led to a huge debate on the burka, which less than 2000 women of 5 million Muslims in France wear, leaving him looking racist.

And yet, and yet, they elected him. Maybe Sarkozy bashing is fashionable, and secretly the French wouldn’t mind the odd Sunday shopping trip, and the opportunity to work overtime to pay for a mortgage or a holiday. Personally I think the traditional way offers a better balance, but even the French can’t, it seems, resist the lure of anglophone riches.

Also note the subtle use of a board painted to look like a pool, the crème de menthe, the Mickey Mouse towel round his neck, and all the other delights of this 5 franc (this being 1984) masterpiece.

There’s also:

À Cause des Garçons, which was covered by French start Yelle more recently. The original video has 80s favourites neon, feminist politics, and real people acting in a cartoon environment.

Charlotte and Serge Gainsbourg’s ‘Lemon Incest’ isn’t a bad song.

Meanwhile, remember that we weren’t so sophisticated. Check out the body popping, hand clapping, bad-jean wearing video to Lionel Richie’s ‘All Night Long’. The ‘will-he, won’t he’ policeman and slightly cringy ‘ethnic’ segment are both worth a look.

Suggestions of your own please.

I have been trying to get the ‘aide du logement’ (help with rent) since I arrived in France in October. I had given them:

- a passport copy
- a ‘RIB’, a sheet containing bank details
- an ‘attestation du travail’, confirming I had a job
- an application form with my salary details, income for 2008, name, age etc
- a form from my landlady specifying the exact size, facilities, and location of my flat.

This did not suffice.

They also required evidence of medical insurance (why?) and three months worth of payslips. I finally delivered these, and BOOM, that’s basically my entire rent paid for the month. That’s the thing, you see. French social security is so good that it’s worth going through the reams of paper, endless phonecalls and emails to no one, and intermittent feelings of hopelessness.

Today I walked down some godforsaken road ironically called the ‘Avenue des droits d’homme’ to the MGEN, or teachers’ health insurance office. I walked around half an hour having taken a 40 minute bus ride from my school. As I walked I thought, “No, it’s worth it, walking down this dual carriageway in the rain, it is your goddamn French RIGHT to get all those doctors’ appointments and prescriptions ‘remboursé’.” I’m a sucker for free things. Give me a scan of my left arm gratuit and I’ll be happy for a month. France is not the best place for me, given this habit. I am all too often indulged.

Once I got to the MGEN, somewhere near a roundabout near Montargis, I filled in another three extremely long forms. I traipsed back, feeling that the 100 € fee perhaps dented the feeling of getting something for nothing, but being a hypochondriac I have already made that amount since being here.

One final, amazing fact. There is a type of welfare in France called the ‘intermittent du spectacle’. It is designed for actors, dancers, and other ‘creatives’ who may work for three months and then having nothing to pay the rent for the next two. The intermittent du spectacle basically gives them an allowance in these interim months, so they don’t have to work in horrible service industry jobs like the rest of the world, and can instead relax and ponder higher things. Can you imagine if we had this in the UK? The Daily Mail readership would all spontaneously combust, leaving little left of our dear island.