I was in Paris once, with my family and we were a bit lost. I overheard a man in the underground speaking English to another gentleman. So I walked over, waited for a lull in the conversation and asked very politely if either could tell me how to get back to my hotel. One of them told me, in French, that he could not speak English. Then both of them turned away from me and resumed their conversation… in English.
Another time, in Paris, we wanted to get a picture of our kids in front of this garden. There were several people with that same idea and we were all waiting patiently, taking our turn. When our kids walked up to get into position, this Parisian woman barged up, dragging her kids. She literally pushed our kids out of the way. When we started to protest, she started yelling at us in French. A Frenchman standing next to us was translating. Apparently this woman felt that American tourists were second class citizens and had no right to be there (in Paris).
Yet another time, in the underground, a man was running to catch a train. In his haste he ran over my daughter from behind, tripping and both crashing to the ground. My daughter, being only 7, began to cry. The man was furious and started to yell at her and he raised his arm as if he was about to strike her. I got there just in time and chased the guy off.
We had a waiter at a sidewalk cafe refuse to serve us because we were Americans and “all Americans are too rude and too much trouble”. He literally told us to “go away”! Of course, we proved him right later when we had to send our drink orders back several times. We ordered Coke, he brought water. “Sorry, we ordered Coke.” He brought sparkling water. “Sorry, we ordered Coke.” He brought ginger ale. “Thanks, the ginger ale is fine…” The table next to us had Coke - don’t know how many times they had to ask…
In a grocery store in Paris, I was looking at a product on the shelf and reading a label when from out of no where I was rammed by a shopping cart. An old woman said “pardon”, but she said it in a barking sort of tone and the look on her face was not pleasant. I returned to my label and she rammed me again harder. “Pardon!” I looked behind me to indicate that there was plenty of room to pass behind. Again she rammed. Again, “pardon!!!”, with more authority. I stepped back to allow her to pass. Instead, she pushed her cart up in front of me and stopped and began reading the label on the same product that I had been looking at. She lingered a while and went on. A few minutes later I heard the crash of a shopping cart in the next aisle and the familiar bark… “Pardon!!!”
I’ve got a hundred more stories like these… More from Paris than any other city I’ve ever visited (yes, including New York).
One Parisian suggested that I would be treated more like an equal if I learned to speak French. Interestingly, I’ve gotten similar advice from Japanese, Chinese, Germans, Italians, Spanish, and just about everywhere I’ve ever visited. I wish I had time to learn all of the worlds languages, however I think it’s a bit of a double standard to REQUIRE me to speak every local language in order to be treated with dignity and respect. I am, personally, very polite (almost to a fault) and I treat everyone I meet with mutual respect… at least until they ram me with a shopping cart…