When I got married, many things in my life changed all at once. Not only was I no longer on my own but I was going to live in a country I scarcely knew, whose language I spoke badly-far from family, friends and my own familiar environment in the Netherlands.
Many people were consumed by curiosity about how things were going and what I thought of France. During the first year I did not want to answer this question. It wasn't that I lacked an opinion, but my reply would have been superficial.
In fact there were many things I found appalling. Everything was done the wrong way round. No coffee break at 10.30 am, two cooked meals a day (rather than one), cheese between the main course and dessert, and so many expressions which meant I could not understand the meaning of a sentence even though I knew all the words in it. Weren't they just making fun of me?
France, so close geographically, was thousands of kilometres away in its customs.
My mother often used to say: 'We don't live on a basis of comparisons.' She said that whenever I compared my presents with my cousin's after a birthday or Christmas. Unfortunately she would then often go on, 'but...'. A series of comparisons would often follow, ending in a state of colossal self-satisfaction or jealousy. Neither of these was a very positive result. In the same way, comparing countries is not very positive.
It has taken me time to appreciate the characteristics of each country. A few examples come to mind.
In Holland we have gezelligheid. This is an untranslatable concept lying somewhere in the realm of a good atmosphere and the warm, friendly feeling of a time with friends or colleagues. It is what makes for the success of an outing, a visit or a cup of coffee together.
In Britain I appreciate the ability to question, to accept personal change, which you find in some of those television drama series set in beautiful locations. At the end of a story which has made one laugh and cry, one of the main characters admits he has been wrong and apologizes, and suddenly one feels there is hope for all the conflicts in the world.
In Germany, I find a love of handcraft and practical work, very precious to someone like me who loves that sort of thing. Of course, all their specialist shops pose a threat to my purse-but after a visit to Germany one is equipped for some time to come!
And to return to France: I love its special kind of humour, irony tinged with self-mockery. The adventures of Asterix and Obelix (which should be prescribed reading for those who really want to know France) are a good example. Through the eyes of these invincible Gauls, one not only discovers the country's regional and social idiosyncrasies, but an ability to laugh at oneself which lends healthy distance to potentially tense situations.
Lasting unity and good relations in an expanding Europe depend on us learning both to cherish our own characteristics and to appreciate the positive differences in others.
translation by Mary Jones
