"Doing sport" in France

Being an outsider here in France I am apt to notice things that I find humorous or strange, things that might escape the eye of a native. Perhaps my childhood education via Seinfeld ingrained this predilection for particularities and minutiae of everyday life. This habit of mine shouldn't be taken the wrong way. I love it here.

In France there is the verb "faire" which is translated as "to do." The verb is one of the most prominently used verbs in the language. It is utilized in conjunction with most activities to signify the action. In France they "faire du sport," "faire la cuisine," & "faire une visite," which is to say that they "do" sport, cooking, and visits. They also use "faire" to describe what the weather is "doing" on a particular day. It dawned on me that never has a nation of "doers" done so little. What is one's conception of France? Can one deny that France is associated in the American mind with idle hours at a cafe? Deep pontification, philosophers, and endless discussions on life and love?

I suppose it is a somewhat juvenile, or perhaps ill defined preconception of the country but the point was comically driven home for me on a trip to the mall at "La Defense" yesterday with Morgane. I wanted to buy a pair of running shoes so I can attempt to stay in shape while I'm here. The first store we walked into was called "Athletes World." They had three large walls covered in shoes for me to choose from. However, none of the shoes could even remotely be considered for a running shoe, much less doing anything athletic whatsoever. The shoes they had looked like one might be able to "do sport" in them but of course that's the purpose. They want to give the illusion that you are athletic, or "sporty" without actually making you "do sport." After two more stops in different shops I realized it wasn't isolated to "Athletes World." These next two shops were large, cavernous spaces that stocked a multitude of athletic clothing. If you wanted to purchase footwear that would allow you to put that clothing to use you were out of luck. Out of the 75-100 pairs of shoes they carried only about 7-10 pairs were actual shoes for running. To cap it all I found a pair that fit me in the smallest of the athletic stores in the mall.

So, where does this leave me? Now that I've bad mouthed a proud nation's athletic tradition I might be out on the street after Morgane reads this. That's a Seinfeld ending for you.