I went to the covered market this morning, and like every Sunday, the Communist Party was out there campaigning, in this
case, for the European Union elections next week. Or maybe I should say against, since the prominent word on
their posters was the word NON (i.e.,
“no”). As in say “no” to the
uncaring European Union, who doesn’t give a damn about the workers. OK, I can see their point, but isn’t it
just a wee bit negative to use the word “no” as a campaign slogan? How can you tell people to go out and
vote (this was indeed a “get out the vote” campaign) for an institution that
you are simultaneously declaring isn’t worth a hill of beans?
European Union elections are historically ill attended. Apathy or downright animosity keeps
people away from the ballot box, as does the generalized fuzziness about what
exactly one is voting for. For if
everyone regularly complains that the “bureaucrats in Brussels” make
undemocratic decisions that filter down and muck up the life of the common man
and woman, they also are allergic to electing the deputies who at least give a
semblance of democratic process.
But in France, this seeming contradiction bothers no one,
since complaining is an age-old tradition and saying non is often the only
honorable way to respond to a question.
For example, let’s say you ask a store clerk if they have bananas. They will not equivocate like an
American shopkeeper, who might say with a sad smile, “oh no, I’m sorry we
don’t but we should have some tomorrow,” or “gee, I just sold the last one, and boy were they tasty”
(both comments geared to getting you come back another day). No, they will look you squarely in the
eye and say: non, or even more
emphatically: pas du tout (not at all). Because in France, equivocating and unnecessary
smiling are considered signs of weakness.
That shopkeeper may have lost a sale, but she has saved her honor, and
what’s more, she has defended La Gloire,
that is, the glory of France.
The general rule here is when in doubt, say no. It may be clothed in other words,
however, like “maybe.” It took me
years to figure out that when my sister-in-law responded to a question with pourquoi pas? (“why not?”) she in fact
meant “no, anything but that.”
Being direct is also frowned upon (unless you are a shopkeeper or the
Communist Party), so “maybe” or “why not” sometimes have to do the job of
“no.” If all this sounds
complicated, it is, at least for a foreigner.
Fortunately for me, the elections aren't an issue, since I don’t have the right to vote. Because after 14 years country I still don’t have the
nerve to face the red tape involved in getting dual citizenship.
And perhaps this is where I must admit
I’m turning a little bit French: when I think of going to the Préfecture and
facing that bureaucratic madness, my instinctive response is: non, non,
and pas du tout.
