Frenchies in the woodwork

For the past few weeks here as a newbie to these Southern parts, I have regularly heard bits of conversation in French around town. In Hong Kong, where the French community was small and immersed in a sometimes intimidating culture, Frenchies tended to all know each other and cling to each other. In the States, however, my experience of the French is that generally like to burrow into the woodwork and "disappear." In cities where the French are a significant presence such as DC or San Francisco, they will organize themselves, usually around the French school where their kids are trained in proper Gallic ways. But I've often seen it with my own eyes, expatriate French ducking around trees and hiding behind store isles when they hear other French people, not wanting to be cubby-holed with them (after all, they left France for a reason). I even recall the experience of an American friend, then married to une Francaise, running into lost French tourists in San Francisco and rushing with American friendliness to offer his wife's aid--only to be excoriated by her later.

Well, by a strange twist in coincidences, I was recently introduced to the local Frenchie social club. Apparently, 15 years ago, a friendly expat decided that the French could gather once a month to eat (what else) and speak French (bien sur). It helps that she is Belgian, a far more easy-going and convivial breed. At any rate, in further proof that leadership is just one person organizing the needs of many, she created a recipe for success. Some 35 or 40 French and francophiles (i.e., French people and their non-French spouses) were gathered at her home for the pre-Christmas dinner, which I was serendipitously invited to. And it was simply terrific. The group was a microcosm of the town, professors and other liberal professionals. In American parlance, it was great for networking, certainly. But it was a family reunion of sorts. Most folks reported having had the same experience of starting out in the woodwork.

Is it the (frightful) global geo-political situation? Is it the time it takes to cleanse whatever drove us or our families out of the metropole? Is it part of the maturation process that allows us to embrace the disparate parts of our identities? I'm out of the woodwork, baby! Merci Benedicte, merci Isabelle!