It is a Yearly Event

  When August ends, tout Paris takes on a different look and feel. Many people return from the beach, the country or family homes with glowingly calm, tan and healthy appearances. It’s the rentrée when real life begins again. In contrast to many Americans, the French tend to do nothing (or as little as possible) during summer vacations except relax.   It’s no mystery why. With five+ weeks of vacation each year, a trip doesn’t need to be “if it’s Tuesday, we need to be here.”  So many Americans have to wait until after they’ve retired to take a vacation of more than a two-week duration.    Even though an increasing number of French executives work during part of August, many others don’t which makes it hard to accomplish a whole lot. It’s almost like singing to a non-existent audience when trying to do business. Invariably, the person you need to contact simply isn’t available.   After the rentrée, just plowing through the stacks of accumulated mail is enough to make executives shake and shiver. Remember, secretaries are away and some companies change their voice mail greeting to “call back in September.” There’s not even a leave-a-message option.   Add on an endless slew of email and voila, you too can have a nervous breakdown.    I just called someone with whom I need to speak and was informed by the receptionist that he’s in the office…but he isn’t taking any calls since he’s dealing with the mail.  Tim is clearly not compulsive about checking his email as it accumulates. I know. I’ve sent him more than a couple trying not to inundate him.    Having had an email address since the advent of dial-up Internet, I know better than to sign on for fear of succumbing to cardiac arrest when I do.       People, in dire need of the French equivalent of aspirin, race to neighborhood pharmacies. These mini-stores rarely have more than three employees (if) behind each counter but do a booming business.    If someone has vacationed in the U.S., they’ve invariably spent more than a few hours perusing the shelves at CVS and stocking up on super-sized bottles of aspirin among other things. Non-prescription goods cost substantially less in the U.S. Plus, the aspirin tablets and don’t need to be dropped into water giving imbibers the sensation they’re downing Alka Seltzer.   Work is work. But, the yearly custom of watching children return to school has a sentimental nostalgic feeling. I live in an arrondissement where there are four schools within two blocks.   Each fall, parents are given specific instruction as to how many notebooks to buy (yes, they are expected to have tiny grids, the US equivalent of the antiquated Palmer method with less of a flourish, specific pencils with different gradations of lead, specific books and the obligatory backpack  — after a student has reached a certain age.    There’s been a lot of controversy surrounding these book bags since there’re so heavy they’ve caused back problems. Students are expected to study once they’ve left the inner sanctums of the school halls rather than participating in sports and extracurricular activities.   I love watching the children go to school. The younger ones have a look of apprehension as they clutch their mother or father’s hand. The students are pristinely dressed and never seem to get dirty in the playground.   At the primary school at the end of my block, the children go home for lunch.  These days, it’s not unusual to see a grandmother or a caregiver come and fetch them as an increasing numbers of mothers are working. Just walking by the playground causes people to stop and gape over how heavy-duty adorable these students (wearing smocks while playing) are while (seemingly) following their teachers’ instructions.    Kids who attend the equivalent of high school have their own style. It’s the casual perfectly fitting jeans. Students appear to have a universal look.  But, what often differentiates French girls from ones who attend schools in the US, is how they toss their hair or unconsciously pull it up so it’s coiffed to look just so.  In addition, you can usually identify a French teenager by her posture. Children are taught from infancy not to slouch.   Even though this specific August hasn’t felt like summer because it’s been unseasonably cold and rainy, perhaps September will be warmer. Streets will be jammed with cars and people will sooner than later look more harried.    Not to worry, before you know it, there’ll be another holiday (remember all the Saints’ Days) that will be extended into three-day (or longer) weekends.  And before you can count to 12, the holiday season will be another reason to flee the city or stay at home and relax.   Even though the French take much more vacation than their American counterparts, statistics demonstrate they are no less productive.   (c) Paris New Media, LLC [email protected]