Supermarket of Shame

It had to happen sometime, so maybe it's better that I got it over with after only a month here.  I am referring to a cultural stumble, of course.  One of those moments where everyone knows what to do except the new person (me) so it feels really humilitating that you (I) had no idea what to do.  Kinda of like that one time I went to a Catholic funeral and stood up when everyone else started kneeling.  My Protestant self was wondering why that padded running board was on the bottom of the pew.  Turns out it was for kneeling and they do a serious amount of kneeling in the Catholic church.  Or maybe it was just that funeral.  Any way, my day at the supermarket yesterday was equaling as embarassing with no kind hearted Catholics any where in sight to say "Bless your heart!" and make me feel better.

So first I should tell you that the grocery stores here are much smaller than what I am used to in Texas--especially for a dedicated HEB-shopper as myself.  There are probably at least 300 types of cereal at HEB.  So maybe there is huge culture-shock when an ex-pat comes to one of our grocery stores and sees all that.  But, they're probably like "I'm in cereal heaven!!" vs. where I am:  cereal hell.  No Honey Nut Cheerios, Chex of any kind or my latest favorite, Multi-Grain Cheerios.  I could even be happy with Total Rain Bran (yummy!).  Virtually every cereal (and anything breakfast actually) contains chocolate.  I am not joking about this.  Chocolate!!!  My daughter, Laura, is totally happy with this situation--loves all the chocolate breakfast foods.  She's eating Nesquik cereal every day! Okay, I'm off-topic...back to the grocery stores....

Breakfast of Champions:  the chocolate pain

The biggest milk container I have found so far & the smallest wine!  Wine was 50 euro cents!

So, they are much smaller, which means less choice.  Also, not many brands or items I've seen before.  An added twist is no baskets.  So you first walk to the store, then as you shop, you fill your bag (that you brought from home), then carry it home.  No boot camp or cross-fit needed over here in Paris--we got grocery shopping for a work out.  (Bonus: you can go several times each day!).  You can't really get a lot of stuff, because, how much can you carry?  Or at least, how much can I carry and not look completely insane?  Also, I have found, I cannot possibly get every item on my list at one store.  So, I go several times a day to several stores.  Yay for burning calories!!

Back to my shameful supermarket story... Katherine nicely came along with me as Paul had spotted a new, larger market in Suresnes.  An added bonus was that is is about 5 stops away on our bus line, so hop on the bus, shop and ride home.  Sounds easy, right?  Well, the store was much larger and had cheaper food--excitement!!!  I brought my rolling cart along with 2 big bags, ready to bring home the bacon, literally--we have not seen any bacon here at any of the stores!!  Katherine & I found all kinds of things we want to cook and even some Cheerios!! (Miel-flavored=honey! Yay!!) We were careful to look at all the pictures on the labels, which is super-important to distinguish between cow, pig, and goat.  Especially in the dairy case.  Lucky for us, we have been shopping for a month, so we're practically experts.

Here's the twist in the tale: the produce section!!!  However, any produce problems were unknown to me until getting in the check-out line.  Of course, all the other people in line don't understand about only making one trip to the grocery store each week, so they were only purchasing like an apple or some toliet paper.  Katherine and I had 2 bags and a Rollster full of groceries, outsmarting everyone!  But, then the checker turned and told everyone in line how stupid I was (in French of course).  She couldn't speak Engligh, but hey, I speak French by osmosis, so I knew what she was saying.  Finally, a nice lady said, do you want me to show you how to do it?  Do what I thought?  She took me over to the produce and showed me how I was supposed to weigh it, touch a tiny picture of the produce on a board above the scale, then press that particular button, then a sticker pops out to put on the produce with it's weight and price.  Do you know how many different fruits and vegetables there were on that buttom board??  and, it goes without saying that the names were all in French. So, I took the walk of shame to go weigh and sticker my produce, which was LOTS since I had gotten all excited about the big supermarket.  As I am weighing and stickering, the whole line of people who had accumulated behind me had to stand and wait as I translated, weighed, and stickered.  Further distinguising me to my friends at the Suresnes Monoprix, was my t-shirt, given to me by my friend Aimee--hot pink with a big Texas on it and it says "No place like home".  <Sigh>.