The French Love for Gossip  

The best gift in a foreign country is a warm reception. It helps one momentarily forget about home, at least for the first few weeks. The kindness of strangers creates a comforting cocoon, allowing you to soak in the beauty of the new country. 

That’s how my colleagues were when I first arrived in France. In my previous blog, “An Emotional Farewell to the End of my Contract,” I mentioned how I received such a nice and warm welcome from them that it made settling in much easier.  

A few weeks in, I felt comfortable making small talk and hanging out occasionally with some of them. During these conversations, I would confide certain things depending on how I related to each person.  

At one point, I invited one of them to my apartment. They suggested I add some decor to my walls and it sounded like a good idea. The next day, to my surprise, I found myself tagged in an email that read, “The walls in Abigael’s apartment are old and sad. Anyone with decor to pass to her, feel free to do so.”  

When I first read the email, the choice of words caught me off guard. However, what even got me more, was the fact that my colleague had tagged all the teachers at the school. That was not certainly how I had visualized them offering help. I hadn’t expected the information to be shared so openly on a public platform.

Nonetheless, the following day at school, my colleagues showered me with beautiful wall decorations, some of which I still have today. Their generosity touched me that I forgot all about the email.  

For them, the announcement was completely normal. They didn’t see anything strange about it. Personally, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had unintentionally put my apartment on display for everyone to see.

Over the months, I realized that in France, small gossip is a hobby. Anything you tell a colleague can quickly spread. Before you know it, everyone in the office is either asking questions or commenting on things you never even mentioned to them. 

One day, we were sitting at the lunch table. I was wearing a beautiful sweater that a sweet colleague had gifted me. One teacher complimented it. Before I could even respond, another colleague jumped in and said, “It’s Sandra (not her real name) who gave it to her.” 

This stunned me. My facial expression probably gave me away because I couldn’t even find the words to respond. Firstly, the idea that someone not addressed would shout that out loud, shocked me. I felt like it wasn’t their place to share that information, it was mine to decide whether or not to mention it.  

Secondly, I was surprised at how quickly Sandra had told someone else about the gift. I had always thought gifts were meant to stay between the giver and the receiver. It should be up to the receiver to decide whether to share that information. 

Maybe my reasoning was wrong. But honestly, that day, I was taken aback by how quickly information spreads within the school. Everyone seemed not to recognise the definition of privacy and confidentiality.

Initially, I took these actions personally. However, after talking to a few friends, I realized it cuts across almost everywhere in France. I remember complaining about it to a French person, but they couldn’t see the problem. To them, it was completely normal while to me it wasn’t among my list of culture shocks to expect.  

Don’t get me wrong, gossip exists in Kenya and everywhere else. But the kind of gossip in France is where people don’t differentiate between personal information confided to them, and general information that can be shared.  

Here, sharing any information feels like giving consent for it to be discussed with everyone. It might even become a topic at a dinner table full of people you’ve never met, and they’ll ask you follow-up questions about it, eager for you to elaborate.  

It’s like being present while people gossip about you. Only this time, they can ask you questions directly, turning it into live gossip that you’re there to feed.  

Over time, I got used to the idea that if a colleague invited me to their home, everyone at school would hear about it. If someone gifted me something, everyone would know what it was. If I needed help, the next day, the whole school would ask me about it.  

From their perspective, it was a way of being open within the small family we had formed. But it took me a while to adjust to this new definition of privacy. Where a casual conversation rarely stays just among two people. It has to find its way around.

Thus, instead of complaining, I filtered my words. I chose to say less. I shared information I didn’t mind the whole of France knowing. 

Maybe it’s just my personal opinion, but I deeply value confidentiality and keeping things just within a small circle. However, if you’re someone who doesn’t mind, this probably wouldn’t come as a culture shock.