A few weeks ago we went out in Paris, and at the suggestion of a new French friend, we jumped the turnstyle to avoiding paying for the metro. He told us foreigners that everyone does it (not that we'd never done it before...). When we reached our destination, we faced a number of ticket vendors and controlers waiting to give fines to people who didn't buy tickets. We weren't fast or smooth enough to sneak past, and the controler immediatly launched into a lecture about cheating the system. The Parisian accompanying us whispered that I should "bat my eyes" at the controler and talk my way out of the fine. Apparently, most controlers don't fall for bullshit, but I was able to use my best French to explain we weren't used to the trasit system because we're foreign. It finally paid to have one foot in with the culture and customs and one foot out -- not to mention the fact that I did bat my eyes.
In addition to our bad choices (like jumping turnstyles) the car proved to be a good source of trouble on this trip. I intended on selling it in Paris and stopped at a garage to have a required checkup the morning that two of my friends arrived. We planned on driving South directly from the airport. After taking my payment and explaining all my car's faults, the secretary at the garage realized that they gave my ownership card to another client. It is not legal to drive without this card, so the garage's mistake was stranding my friends at the airport and all of us in Paris. I've learned by now that it doesn't work to get angry in these situations, but I was able to calmly explain to the secretary that if they didn't find my gray card within an hour, my problem would become her problem. To passify me, she told me to go grocery shopping while I waited... This was just the beginning of our issues with the car, but they did retireive the card, and we left the following day for Marseille.
A week after the mess at the garage, one our way back to Paris from Marseille, someone rear-ended my car. Because my liscence plates were from a region to the far west, my accent betrayed my foreignness, and my ignorance about police reports was obvious, the man who hit me laughed in my face and insulted me. I had enough composure to argue with him, write down his liscence plate, and storm away before I myself broke down. Fortunately, there was nothing wrong with the car. Even though I was clueless about the procedure, and I rode away shaken, my girls were proud that I proved myself a "sassy bitch" even when dealing in French.
Despite all the minor disastors of the trip, nothing went horribly wrong, and it was wonderful to catch up with friends while touring France. We subsisted on baguettes and cheese and enjoyed French wine and French DJs when we partied. It was also exciting to me to have my language and cultural skills put to the test. I think I finally crossed a point with my comprehension that I wouldn't have discovered if we weren't so young and stupid and (mis)adventuring around with an old and shoddy car.
