In France, it’s hard to make friends with French people. They have a whole other social structure that we don’t get, but the expat community in France is strong and welcoming. There are English-language clubs, libraries, bookstores, churches, exercise classes, schools, you name it. Put on your extrovert hat and get ready.
(By the way, I don’t mean to imply that you should not learn French or try to get to know people. Learn it. Use it. Just don’t expect to find a new bestie at the bakery.)
Making new friends is kind of like dating. You have to hit it off with someone at the PTA meeting or at meet-n-greet or in the library or a bookstore or French class or a bar. Then you have to have a conversation where you laugh at the same things. Then you have to gulp and force out the words, “Youwannagogetcoffeewimesometime?” Then they have to say yes and you exchange info and then you text them and hope they’ll text back and if they do you meet at Chez Café and if it goes well you agree to do it again but you have to wait for them to ask you next time so you don’t seem too forward. It’s horrifying. And, as I said, it’s like dating.
However, you’re not looking for a partner, you’re looking for friends--yes, plural. You also know they already have friends and they might not need you.
So that means it’s like polygamous dating.
I once saw an interview with polygamous wives. The journalist asked them if being Wife Number One was the most desirable position, and they all laughed. They agreed that being Wife Number Five was the best position. Why? Because by the time the family had absorbed four wives, they had their system worked out. Every wife had her place, her job, her kids. No drama. No jealousy. Wife Number Five was hardly noticed. She could relax more than the others had. Less pressure.
That’s what you’re shooting for with your new expat friends. They probably have good friends already, so you’re going to have to scatter your seed wide. You will be rejected. Don’t take it too hard, just dry your eyes and move on. They don’t deserve you.
Here are my tips for making expat friends:
(These might seem like common sense to you extroverts, but it’s absolutely foreign to socially challenged people like me.)
Go to a regularly-scheduled thing (French class, choir rehearsal, your kid’s tiddlywinks practice), scope out the people, strike up a conversation three times in a row, and then invite them out for coffee after the thing.
Be brave and go to something you’d normally avoid: PTA coffee time, knitting group at the library (they can teach you), DAR meetings, walking tour of your neighborhood. See if you laugh with anybody.
Check out the same niche you occupied back in Omaha: Yoga? Your political party? Poetry slams? Horse vaulting? I’m sure your new town has something similar. Common interests will give you something to talk about, and that’s how you make friends.
At the same time you’re cultivating these friendships, make French acquaintances in your neighborhood. Speak French, even if you’re just pointing at the croissants and saying, “Deux croissantes, s’il vous plait.” They’ll appreciate your effort, your French will improve, and camaraderie will ensue. Pick the nicest butcher, and stick with him. Give your change to the homeless lady who’s always on the corner. Go in the same wine shop every week and ask the expert’s opinion on what to buy. Pretty soon, you’ll be stopping by just to say hi, and you’ll chat about the weather or the latest strike. As Luna Lovegood said, it’s like having friends.
How did you make friends back home? You probably played in marching band together and talked on a late-night bus trip back from a football game. Or maybe you ended up in the small group at church together and after you cried that time and got a hug you realized you could be friends with this person. Or maybe you watched your kids for hours during sports practice and learned that both your husbands had non-adventurous food tastes so you’d go try that new Ethiopian place together. Whatever it was, you probably didn’t meet eyes across a crowded room while the orchestra played Some Enchanted Evening. It probably wasn’t love at first sight. You just sat around together for a while, and then you were friends. That’s what happens in Paris, you just have to work a little harder to sit around together.
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