Chicken Run

Greg likes to quote a Bible verse to describe how the French drive: everyone did what was right in their own eyes.

Lanes are mere suggestions, and suddenly veering across traffic to snag a coveted parking spot is perfectly acceptable. The rule seems to be, "don't get hit, and don't get caught." Otherwise, anything goes.

I have to say, it starts early. You better watch out for kids on the sidewalks learning to ride their trottinettes (scooters) or their first tiny bicycle. But with kids, you expect it -- you naturally walk defensively, keeping a wide berth, anticipating a crash or a sudden turn.

I never thought I'd have to walk defensively amongst adults, though. Imagine walking down a wide, relatively empty sidewalk. You look ahead, and someone is walking straight towards you. There is plenty of margin on either side. What do you do? In the US (at least in the south), each person tends to give way a little bit -- there's a bit of a dance, maybe, to see which direction each person will move, but generally both parties give in a little bit. In France, there must be some hidden rules that I don't know about. Walking down the street is a bit like playing "chicken." People will walk directly ahead, not budging one centimeter, while they stare menacingly into your face. 99% of the time, I'm the one to sidestep completely out of the way.

Maybe there's a pecking order - do they size each other up to make the determination as to who gives in? Old vs. young, male vs. female? I'm not sure, although more than once I've actually seen two people come to a complete standstill on a blind corner, each one holding their ground and not willing to capitulate.

The funniest example of chicken happened just yesterday. You had to be there, but I'll try to paint you a word picture. Greg and I were running in the park on our favorite trail. On a very wide part of the trail, a man passed us on the left, however, there was still plenty of room to navigate. Looking ahead, I could see another man coming towards him on his same trajectory. I glanced over to see if the passer noticed, and yes - these two men were staring each other right in the face. The rest was like a slow-motion movie where two lovers run dramatically across a field into each other's arms. You guessed it - CRASH! They ran right into each other, hands flailing up to protect themselves at the last moment, stumbling into the bushes, mumbling half-hearted apologies. I nearly died laughing, which is entirely possible while you're already breathless from jogging.

Until I learn the rules, you can bet I'll be running defensively from now on!