Sitting in Silence

I recently attended a dinner party with some young, French professionals. Twenty-something's milled about drinking wine from plastic cups and snacking on sausage with cheese as they discussed politics and operas they'd recently seen. It was surreal only because it wasn't what I expected when I was invited to have a dinner with a friend-of-a-friend and his cousin. 

What I imagined as a small, quiet affair was anything but. The passage of time was marked by food and conversation and it was all really charming. 

That said, I spent the majority of the time feeling anxious. While this group of established friends talked about climbing the job ladder and getting their Master's I tried to look really cool in the corner--hoping the red wine wasn't staining my teeth. And what's worse, I managed to exhaust the brunt of my go-to French phrases in the first 10 minutes. After that I was left with my backup tactic in instances of prolonged French speaking: offering superficial insight on a conversation at 45 second intervals to the effect of,  "well there you go," "I know!" "That's cute," "where's the toilet?" 

Everyone was extremely nice though, and my novelty as an American helped buoy me among the party guests. One conversation that struck me was with a charming fellow named Eloi who had studied for three years in America getting his Master's. He'd also spent time in Brooklyn (and had the red flannel to prove it). I asked him if he experienced any culture shock during his stay? He responded that only one social custom really caught him off guard. It took Eloi almost a full year to understand the concept of  "hanging out."  "People would invite me over and we'd sit on a couch and do nothing. I had no idea what was going on."

I looked back at him blankly. What's there to get?

That's the point. Eloi explained that in France there is always an occasion for getting together. Whether it be coffee/tea, aperitif, amuse-bouche (pre-dinner snacks) or a night cap. In fact, the French have partitioned happy-hour into so many distinct parts that you can always find an excuse to get together post 5pm. As he said this I reflected on my own time in France. And I was like, "WHOA!" Every time I'd met up with a French person it primarily revolved around eating or drinking. 

For the comparison, I thought back to the states. Sure we like to get together and do stuff, but just as often there will be no premise to socializing. In American we actively invite someone over and then continue to go about our day as if we were alone. The only difference being that we can enjoy that pleasant, social sensation of being with another human for a couple of hours. My social life in middle school revolved around going to my best friend's house while we took turns watching each other play video games. Yea I thought. Hanging out is sort of weird. And I love it! And apparently so does Eloi, who is a big convert to the custom. Sure, some might suggest that sitting in silence with your friends is the opposite of healthy, but I think it's quite romantic. Like Uma Thurman's line to John Travolta in "Pulp Fiction."

And even more interesting was the fact that here I was, at this harmless (dare I say delightful)  dinner party, and I was a wreck. These tiny, unspoken rules of society are so ingrained that you don't realize you've exited your comfort zone until someone offers you a plastic cup of red wine and asks your opinion on the opera of Aida. "She had things pretty rough. But boy could she sing."