Expat Life in the South of France

At a ladies only birthday lunch earlier this week,  our hostess had the idea of going around the table of 11, mostly expat residents, to ask about embarrassing faux pas trying to make ourselves understood , or trying to understand the French.  Two really funny ones had us all in stitches.

One was that of a new arrival who had just moved into her apartment and who luckily, had extremely helpful French neighbours.  One of them rushed in one day, in a state of panic and asked for some “scotch,” whereupon Anne rushed to the cabinet, brought out a bottle of scotch and handed it to the neighbour.  The neighbour was horrified. She wanted cello  tape, which the French for some reason insist on calling “Scotch!”

Another was of a couple shopping in the supermarket, when the wife wandered off and the tall husband was approached by a little old French lady who pointed to the top shelf and said something in French, whereupon the husband replied in French, “No thank you, Madame, not today!”  The French lady insisted, by which time his wife had returned and explained that what the lady wanted was a product from off the top shelf which she couldn’t reach!