Bordeaux and Palmiers

The Parisians are famous for being stand-offish and cold. Whoever started that rumor obviously never met the Basques.

I don’t mean that as an insult: it’s more like the mild-mannered swing you take at the popular kids that you so desperately want to fit in with: I’m sure that if the Basques had welcomed me in with open arms, I wouldn’t ever consider calling them cold… they certainly don’t seem that way towards one another. But if they had welcomed me, I probably wouldn’t want to be part of it all so much: ah… a paradox. How lovely.

The attitude towards foreigners or strangers of any kind reminds me less of Paris, where you can get on someone’s good side just by bad-mouthing the other guy, and more of Lille, my first stop along a long list of stops throughout France and Europe in general: the northerners weren’t cold, just distant… and once they had grown to love and accept you, there was no going back. Which is perhaps why they deliberated so long and hard over their decision.

When spelled out in this way, I’m tempted to draw parallels with the weather, and in all honesty, maybe that’s it: cold and wet brings about the inclination to stay indoors with a cup of tea and never venture outside, where foreigners like myself are wandering about, unsure of what to do with ourselves. To befriend someone in either place is to welcome them into your home, something that should be done with trepidation when you’ve got weirdos like me wandering around.

I don’t really know the whys and wherefores: I don’t feel I’ve been here long enough to deserve to know. All I know is that when I watch their fiestas from the outside, I so long to be a part of the club.

A note on the photo:

A few weeks ago, the Basque regatta was held here, in San Sebastian. The streets of Parte Vieja were even more congested than usual, and as I waited for a friend outside our usual meeting spot–McDonalds (stood outside more than I care to admit, but I haven’t stepped in once since I’ve been here)–I saw something strange approaching from down the street, announced by screams and running feet in all directions…

I’m curious, so rather than run away, I whipped out my camera and stepped a bit closer…

To see a man running towards me with a fake bull on his head and fireworks spouting every which way.

I would like to be friends with this man.