The French Workplace

After being here for a total of 5 months, I've picked up on a few differences between working in France and America.

1. Etiquette. If you pass someone in the hall you have never seen before, you must say "Bonjour." If you are on the elevator with a stranger you say hello when you get on and "have a good day" when you get off. If you sit down with your co-workers to eat lunch, you wait for everyone to arrive, and then say "Bon appetit."

2. Hours. Contrary to what you might believe, people do work very hard. Often, people stay at the office late -- and given what lawyers often think of what it might be like to work "in house," I was surprised. That said, people have to work longer hours so they can take those long vacations and long lunch and coffee breaks.

3. Farewell parties. Two weeks ago, one my co-workers left us for another division of this large company. We each chipped in to buy a card and gift. To my consternation, she invited all of us to a party in our office, for which she supplied the food and drink (and there was a lot of the latter). I was embarrassed that she took this duty upon herself, but I was assured by everyone that this was quite normal -- when a person leaves the office, they organize the party. I told them that when I leave, they will be in charge of my party. Hopefully, there will still be one.

4. Greetings. Every morning, the people who have offices near me come in unannounced, smile, shake my hand, ask how I am doing, and leave. At first, I thought this might be because I have just moved to a top-floor corner office with a balcony that I share with a co-worker and they want to check it out (honestly, as impressive as the office sounds, I think there were several permanent employees angling for it, and in order to avoid having to make a decision, it is temporarily mine until I leave). Or maybe I'm just that popular. But neither of those are the reason - they do this with every office until they reach their own. If I did this in Chicago, I think people's general reaction would be that I am mentally deranged.

5. Clothing. Needless to say, I had to step my game up a notch here. My fashion sense, formerly and accurately described as clueless, can now be described as "He's trying."