Mon dieu! Astonished at French, inspired by entitlement

Living in France in my 20s, I quickly learned three words necessary for survival. La toilette (Whew). Une baguette (Yum). La grève (Oy).

I learned that last one after sitting at a train station for about four hours. "Train no coming," a kindly native finally told me in broken English. The rail workers were on strike. Again.

It's with mixed emotions (amusement and alarm) that I and my fellow Francophiles follow the news out of France. Protesters, many of them young, are clashing with police in vehement opposition to a bill that would raise the retirement age from 60 to 62, which would still be among the lowest in Europe.

No matter that the French pension system is going broke. A way of life is at stake here, including long vacations and even longer lives of retirement freed from having to work at all.

When the news hit, we knowingly laughed at the preposterousness of French outrage. Mon dieu! 62? My financial planner recently told me I'll be working until I'm about 82. If there ever was a time to eat several warm, chocolate-stuffed croissants, that was it.

I hope, and trust, that the French violence will pass quickly so we can get back to enjoying their sense of entitlement, and secretly wish that we, too, could have what they're having.

Anybody who has had the pleasure of living in one of the world's most scrumptious countries knows that the French are a mixed bag of the infuriating and enviable. They have the Champs-Elysees and Dior and real castles. They know lace and Champagne and mustard and goat cheese and how to treat a dog well (dining at the table, not under it). They take August off.

They do not stand in lines. And they do not stand for anyone getting in the way of their very good lives.

In the United States, "working is part of your life," said Audrey Gagnaire, 34, a sixth-grade teacher at the French Immersion School in St. Paul. "You work all the time. In France, you work so that you can live a better life.

"French people have a way to do things and, if you touch things that belong to them, they're not happy about it."

Gagnaire, who has lived in the Twin Cities for 12 years, is a quick study. Aside from teaching, she's a Taiko instructor, working up to 70 hours a week between her two jobs.

Little wonder she understands the frustration with the proposed changes -- would you want somebody messing with your five weeks of vacation? -- but she notes that life expectancy in France is getting longer (red wine, no doubt). And, not insignificant to the reasons for the changes, "there's no money."

"There are five seasons in France," said Vincent Francoual, owner of Vincent's restaurant in downtown Minneapolis. "Winter, spring, summer, fall and strike season. It's nothing to worry about."

Francoual has lived in the United States for 18 years but follows the news from home. "Those poor kids, they want to protest," he said. "A few cars are going to burn. C'est la vie."

Raising the retirement age is nothing compared to the indignity Francoual's father faced when forced to go from a two-hour lunch to a devastatingly short 1 1/2 hours. "It nearly killed him," he said.

Although he admits to a genetic disposition to long vacations, Francoual sees no better option for French President Nicolas Sarkozy. "France cannot survive the way it is."

Francoual now works 50 to 60 hours a week, but is no "chef victim," he said. His grandmother feels differently.