Fête du travail

n. – Labor Day holiday

With only a few exceptions, the French like to adhere to dates vs. days for their numerous holidays. In the US, Labor Day, Memorial Day, even Presidents’ Day, Martin Luther King Day and Columbus Day always fall on a Monday. This ensures the day of celebration can actually be celebrated with a day off work.

It’s ironic however that in a country where vacation is so sacrosanct, the French version of Labor Day always falls on May 1 no matter what. So inevitably there will be two years in a row when it falls on Saturday and then Sunday resulting in no impact on the work week whatsoever.

The French have so many vacations, they have to divide the country into zones so it doesn’t all but shut down. Soon after the Christmas holidays are the vacances in February followed by the vacances in April, followed by Easter. Even the television shows and newspapers go on holiday. Le Figaro, the daily newspaper that comes with magazine supplements on Saturday simply re-prints Friday’s edition on Saturday to run with the magazines over Easter weekend. Sometimes, the whole newsstand will go on holiday so then it doesn’t really matter.

One newsstand comes to mind in the neighborhood, whose hours at best are questionable. Once when I asked how late they stayed open, the owner responded “Dix-neuf heure, dix-neuf trente,” 7:00, 7:30. I asked again to clarify because there is a gaping half hour difference between the two to which she begrudgingly agreed to 7:30, but I understood that if things were quiet, those doors would be closing up much closer to 7:00!

It reminds me of the news show called Sept a Huit which runs on Sunday. Sept a Huit means Seven to Eight, but I notice that it actually ends at 7:45. I guess Sept a Sept Heure Quarante Cinq isn’t as catchy a name though.

It’s hard to tape shows on the drive as a result of timing. Better to add some time on either end of the show in order to not miss the end or beginning. The French have a reputation for being late, which doesn’t really fit with a culture that insists on keeping military time. When meeting someone, I usually build in “un bon quart d’heure” or a good fifteen minutes of waiting time. And by “un bon quart d’heure,” the French usually mean half an hour.

Because tardiness is somewhat expected, there is rarely a sense of feeling rushed. If you’re running late, chances are your friends may be running even later. That is unless it’s time to go on vacation.