Saga of the French Driver's License...

I went to the Nice “Prefecture” today.

In "Tarzan French", prefecture means the place where French bureaucrats torture poor foreigners!

In real French, it's a governmental building where foreigners need to go to get visas, driver's licenses, etc. Every country has theirs! France is no worse than anywhere else, except no one speaks English there! I digress...



I decided to go alone, in my "Cabriolet", That's Tarzan French for my wonderful VW Golf Convertable!, armed only with my “Tarzan French”, to try to exchange my Florida driver’s license for a French license.

Feeling confident after I got through the security gate, armed with seven French policemen...

Ah hmmm... didn't anyone ever tell them that no one wants to go into this building? Why the guards? We all just want to escape from here! I suppose they are afraid that someone might go postal here. That could happen, easily. More digression, sorry!

... I found the correct desk and took my number!

When it was my turn, I submitted all the documents including six months worth of electric bills to prove that I live here, six passport size photos, officially translated Florida license and a self addressed stamped envelope (SASE)!! I was confident!

Everything was going smoothly, EXCEPT that the woman behind the glass didn't want to take my photographs nor did she want my SASE. Hmmm... oh, oh!! This is not a good sign! I've never heard of a driver's license without photos, have you?

She simply said: "Vous ecrit un lettre!"

Huh???

Hello Tarzan? What in the world does THAT mean?? What just happened????

Doesn't "Vous ecrit un lettre" mean "You write a letter"??

This makes no sense to me and she wouldn't explain further. She just waved me away.

Groan…

I did have to fill out a form, all in French, which I could read (Halleluiah!) with my name and address, so maybe they are going to send me something?? Perhaps they'll send me a letter, telling me when the paperwork has been processed and I can come back (oh lucky me!!) to give them my pictures, my SASE and some cash? I have no idea what this lovely experience will cost! It must cost something?? Something more than my time and my self-confidence! Something more than the $60 I had to fork over to the “official translator” to get the Florida license translated into French! Surely!!

So, now I wait… and ask everybody I know here, what in the world just happened???

Ah, life on the Riviera, not all it’s cracked up to be, is it? Welcome to life in a foreign country!

What Time Is It? It's BLUE!

Yesterday morning I was walking home from the bakery with my two loaves of yummy French bread, when a lady stopped me on the street and asked me something. Oh no... I didn't have a clue what she was asking! With my hands on my heart I said, "Desole, je parle un petit peu Francais." I'm sorry, I only speak a very little bit of French. She smiled, gently took my wrist and pointed to my watch! Oh, of course, she was asking for the time! Groan!!! I've learned that many times in my french classes of the past. Why can't I catch it on the street?? I must have a mental block! Why?

Well, about eight months ago I purchased a beautiful blue sofa from a local used furniture shop nearby. They were to deliver it on a certain day, in the afternoon. I was at home, waiting for them, when the phone rang! Oh no! Not the phone! Panic sets in.

It was like the commercial with the dog listening to the owner talk: blaa, blaa, blaa... Only I heard: blaa, blaa, blaa, color, blaa, blaa, blaa, color? So, I answered back in French: BLUE, BLUE!! I heard grumbling on the other end. "Color, color???" Again, I answered, BLUE! I couldn't figure out why they were asking me what color my sofa was? How odd.

A few hours later, after they delivered the sofa, shaking their heads at me, it dawned on me what had happened. They were asking something like, "Quelle heure est-il?" Which means, what time is it? "Quelle heure" is pronounced: [kell-UHR], or, to the panic stricken ear: [col-OR]!!!

So, if you ever ask me, "What time is it?", don't be surprised if I answer: BLUE!

What is that odor agreeable?

Yes, friends, that's the title - or so I thought - to the first new song of the season for the Riviera International Singers! Of course, by now, only my second blog entry, you know where I'm going with this, right? Right! Actually the title of this French traditional carol, translated by someone far more knowledgeable than me - back in the days of "Ye Olde English", goes like this:

"Whence is that goodly fragrance flowing?"

I could say all sorts of things about this goodly fragrance here in France - French bread, for instance, which is truly a heavenly fragrance,

or the smell of the Mediterranean just a few minutes from my front door,

or lavender blooming everywhere in summer,

but I think the composer, a Frenchman after all, was thinking of CHEESE, all 500+ varieties.

Seriously! He goes on to write about "Shepherds in fields in May" (what's this doing in a Christmas carol?), so he must be talking about goats cheese, the most pungent variety?

But seriously, he's referring to the Lord, Jesus Christ's birth - a very, very Goodly Fragrance, for one and all!

Merry Christmas, a few months early!

A fitting way to begin this blog

For the last four weeks, on my daily walk to the promenade, I've passed a neighbor's gate with the following sign: Attention a vos doigts "Lili" mord. I felt so sad, thinking, oh dear, their big white goose is dead! And how strange that they would leave that sign up for so long. It's just a goose. It's not like they are cuddly, hugable pets.

Hmmm...

Well, today, as I inaugurate this new blog, I decided to use Bablefish to get a translation for that sign. Guess what? The sign means: Attention to your fingers, "Lili" BITES!! Ha!!!

Gotta love it!!! Yes, "Me Want Food - Tarzan French" is painfully true!!

By the way, to give credit where credit is due, this blog title isn't original with me. Thanks to Rick and Lisa! It was from them that I first heard this phrase, and it stuck with me! It's so apropos to my life these days, I just had to use it! The other title would have been: Our Goose is Dead!