We attend birthday parties and give birthday presents here in Paris and not one of the children -- and I mean not a single one -- has ever written us a thank you note. But it's not just the kids: Hosting a New Year's party for a dozen families, inviting friends over for dinners -- not one thank you card, not one thank you note, not even one thank you e-mail.
After many events, we have finally figured out that it is not, in fact, rudeness and that there is a perfectly logical explanation. This is one of those cultural differences where, truly, I don't see one side being "better" than the other, but they sure are different.
For example, after hosting friends for Thanksgiving, there is radio silence for nearly a week and, despite the name of the holiday, no thanks. Six days later, I happen to run into my friend Béatrice, and she is effusive and warm, and gushing about how much she enjoyed it.
So why no formal "thank you"? It's not for lack of enthusiasm, as the e-mails and conversations leading up to the Thanksgiving dinner prove. Many exclamation points are used and appropriately excited questions are asked: what to bring (a bottle of wine), what to wear (whatever they've got on them at the time, though yes, it is perfectly OK for the little girls to dress up as Indians in honor of the holiday), when to arrive (7:30 and I pointedly tell them we will start eating at 8 promptly, because I know that otherwise they are socially obligated not to even show up till 8 or 8:30).
It's not "bad breeding", as Béatrice is descended from French nobility, and I am descended from Russian Jewish peasants escaping persecution in the shtetl.
It's not for lack of manners, as she thanks me repeatedly before the event. It's also worth noting that this is the woman who teaches her children to eat peaches with a fork and knife. Her five lovely kids say their pleases, thank-yous, clear their plates, and look adults in the eye during conversations.
It's not for lack of generosity, as they show up with a hostess gift for Anthony and me, headbands for each of the girls, and six bottles of wine. Six! Granted, they come with a total of seven people, but as five of them are 14 years old or younger, it's not like we need the extra alcohol.
So the simple reason that people here don't send thank you cards is that the French show their appreciation on the front end of the transaction, where we show our gratitude at the end. Even the children: They open their gifts at the party in front of their friends, and thank them on the spot. I think the party favor bag is the thank you. Our thank you cards must actually seem like quite a delayed reaction to them.
Béatrice hosted us for almost a week last summer -- and has already invited for next summer -- at their vacation home in Bretagne. Last summer, I was very American about it: I showed up with one very nice bottle of wine, helped with shopping/prepping/cooking/childcare, bought treats, and followed up with a very sincere thank you card accompanied by a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies. But note (and cringe with me, folks): I showed up at their door for five days with one lone bottle of wine.
So this year I'll know to do better with my hostess gifts on the front side. But I'm still not sure I can forego the official card at the end. It's not the dissaproval of my countrymen, or even my parents, that I fear. The disapproving voice I hear in my head belongs to my brother's wife, who once mailed my parents a formal thank you card for some toilet paper they had brought in their luggage to her and my brother in India. My sister-in-law is, of course, far too polite to actually scold me for any lapse in my manners, so the disapproving voice I hear is purely imaginary.
We plan to invite Béatrice, H-O, and their lovely family over for future dinners and evenings together (for instance, they've expressed a real curiosity about true New York style cheesecake...). And certainly they need to come over to share one of the many bottles of wine we now have in our collection. But this begs the question, how do we prevent them from bringing six more?
After many events, we have finally figured out that it is not, in fact, rudeness and that there is a perfectly logical explanation. This is one of those cultural differences where, truly, I don't see one side being "better" than the other, but they sure are different.
For example, after hosting friends for Thanksgiving, there is radio silence for nearly a week and, despite the name of the holiday, no thanks. Six days later, I happen to run into my friend Béatrice, and she is effusive and warm, and gushing about how much she enjoyed it.
So why no formal "thank you"? It's not for lack of enthusiasm, as the e-mails and conversations leading up to the Thanksgiving dinner prove. Many exclamation points are used and appropriately excited questions are asked: what to bring (a bottle of wine), what to wear (whatever they've got on them at the time, though yes, it is perfectly OK for the little girls to dress up as Indians in honor of the holiday), when to arrive (7:30 and I pointedly tell them we will start eating at 8 promptly, because I know that otherwise they are socially obligated not to even show up till 8 or 8:30).
It's not "bad breeding", as Béatrice is descended from French nobility, and I am descended from Russian Jewish peasants escaping persecution in the shtetl.
It's not for lack of manners, as she thanks me repeatedly before the event. It's also worth noting that this is the woman who teaches her children to eat peaches with a fork and knife. Her five lovely kids say their pleases, thank-yous, clear their plates, and look adults in the eye during conversations.
It's not for lack of generosity, as they show up with a hostess gift for Anthony and me, headbands for each of the girls, and six bottles of wine. Six! Granted, they come with a total of seven people, but as five of them are 14 years old or younger, it's not like we need the extra alcohol.
So the simple reason that people here don't send thank you cards is that the French show their appreciation on the front end of the transaction, where we show our gratitude at the end. Even the children: They open their gifts at the party in front of their friends, and thank them on the spot. I think the party favor bag is the thank you. Our thank you cards must actually seem like quite a delayed reaction to them.
Béatrice hosted us for almost a week last summer -- and has already invited for next summer -- at their vacation home in Bretagne. Last summer, I was very American about it: I showed up with one very nice bottle of wine, helped with shopping/prepping/cooking/childcare, bought treats, and followed up with a very sincere thank you card accompanied by a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies. But note (and cringe with me, folks): I showed up at their door for five days with one lone bottle of wine.
So this year I'll know to do better with my hostess gifts on the front side. But I'm still not sure I can forego the official card at the end. It's not the dissaproval of my countrymen, or even my parents, that I fear. The disapproving voice I hear in my head belongs to my brother's wife, who once mailed my parents a formal thank you card for some toilet paper they had brought in their luggage to her and my brother in India. My sister-in-law is, of course, far too polite to actually scold me for any lapse in my manners, so the disapproving voice I hear is purely imaginary.
We plan to invite Béatrice, H-O, and their lovely family over for future dinners and evenings together (for instance, they've expressed a real curiosity about true New York style cheesecake...). And certainly they need to come over to share one of the many bottles of wine we now have in our collection. But this begs the question, how do we prevent them from bringing six more?
1 comment:
From my experience, the thank you note post party/event is also kind of sporadic in our culture. If it is a gift, then yes, most people give a thank you, but it depends. Not always here
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