THE Lowly Peon

On Snobbery and the French 
13 October 2010, 4:37am

I've had some bad experiences with the French. A few years back, I had planned, with my girlfriend at that time, a trip to France that was to last over a week; within the first few days, that trip turned into a three day tour in France, and about five in Germany, which we started referring to as "the father land".

To demonstrate how our time in France was so miserable, I think I need only to tell the story of our arrival.

We came from Germany by train. The platform at the station was nearly empty, so, in fear that we were in the wrong place, we kindly asked someone, in the best German I could muster, if this train was indeed headed to Paris. The woman quickly replied that she was French, not German, and left. Okay, we thought. At least we felt better about the train's destination.

By the time we arrived in Paris, we were tired and very hungry. Already four in the afternoon, and we hadn't eaten lunch. We strolled along some cute cobblestone road in Paris and came upon a place that looked nice, with outdoor seating, completely empty. The waiter came to give us the menus. My traveling companion asked for two beers while we looked over the menu, in French, and the waiter rolled his eyes upon realizing we were American.

It didn't take long for us to see that there was nothing on the menu that wasn't some hunk of meat. Being a vegetarian, and very hungry, that put me in a bit of a sour mood, but after being in Germany for a week or so, it wasn't unexpected.

We finished our beers, and while Gwynne paid the bill, I went to the bathroom. We left a tip and paid cash.

No less than two blocks away, looking for a more Peon-friendly establishment, we heard shouting and looked behind us. It was our waiter, yelling at us, asking if the bathroom was clean. Waz eet kleen enough for yuu? Waz eet comfortable? Confused as hell, we responded kindly by saying yes, thank you, before realizing he was yelling at us because we didn't order dinner. Mind you that we took no table that wouldn't have otherwise been occupied, we paid our bill, and we were polite.

We had a few more experiences like this, got on a train to Germany, and never looked back.

Which brings me to the present. I'm sitting at one of my favorite restaurants here in Shanghai, waiting for my appointment at the US consulate. I'm sitting outside, which usually attracts only foreigners and smokers, and, more often than not, both. I had barely sat down when some guy, clearly European, started smoking and asked th waiter for black coffee, evian, chilled, and matches. (I said he was European...)

I've lived in a place for years by now that requires a certain level of international English — not accented, not obscure, but simple, clear, international English. This guy's English was far from that. It took me a few times to understand what he was asking for. The waitress was clearly struggling. The guy got frustrated, and said very quick, and with a thick accent, go get someone who speaks English.

I couldn't believe it. This guy was speaking in a language that is supposedly mine, but i could barely understand, and he expected a waitress in China to understand it? And he was rude about it?

Finally, i told her what he wanted, and she said thanks. The patience of Chinese servers never fails to amaze me.

And now the climax. After smelling this guy's body odor and cigarettes for a short while, he picked up the phone, and obnoxiously yelled into it for about thirty minutes. And the language he was speaking: French.

Note: I know this is badly stereotypical, and I'm sure there are lots of wonderful French people like Audry Tautou, but it's pretty incredible how every time Daisy and I come across a foreigner who embarrasses me (we foreigners here belong to a sort of club that is both exclusive and hard to break free from), they are almost every time from France.