a small table and chairs in front of a stone building covered in vines

Living the French Life, Wherever You Are

Something that kept me in France for nearly a decade was my appreciation for the French way of life. There’s no denying that it’s slower and more intentional than the fast-paced ambiance you find in the US. I like to think of myself as an intentional type of person, so it’s not that surprising that I felt so at home there.

Maybe that’s one of the things that brought you to France and ultimately kept you there like me, or perhaps you’ve only ever visited, but are itching to go back and make a real life for yourself there. Either way, you’ll want to get to know Jane Dieu. 

Jane is a UK-born artist and YouTube content creator living in the French countryside with her family. Her channel, Living Well in France, is dedicated to helping people bring more French beauty into their everyday lives. She recently interviewed Stephen and I on her channel, and as soon as we started chatting, I knew her message would resonate with all of you, dear TAIP readers. Especially the many retirees in our audience who are thinking deeply about how they want their next chapter to feel.

Because while yes, I want to encourage everyone of you to live in France, Jane’s philosophy isn’t just about moving there. She urges that you can indeed live like the French wherever you are in the world, and I can’t help but agree.

Life as an Artist in France

Jane lives in a quiet part of France and splits her time between painting and making videos that share what it’s really like to adopt a French lifestyle. Her artwork features detailed renderings of boats and seascapes, inspired by her time working in luxury yacht marketing. She says that during these years she “developed a passion for the beauty and craftsmanship of these vessels” and has since created some very impressive works.

In a handful of her videos, she invites viewers into her studio to watch her paint, talk through creative routines, and share what it’s like to live as an artist in a country and culture that deeply values beauty and craft.

It’s a side of French life reminiscent of what we sometimes read about when exploring the history of artists who made their home there — Van Gogh, Picasso, Monet, and many other greats, to name a few. There’s a reason why artists of all shapes and sizes (including myself) flock to France. The reverence for art, conversation, and the idea that life isn’t meant to be rushed through, but enjoyed, is something that I personally can’t get enough of. And it seems Jane feels the same.

Why the French Lifestyle Resonates

You’ll all remember I moved to France thinking I’d only stay a year, and ended up living there for nearly a decade. When I reflect on why, it was the culture that kept me. The way people make time for themselves and each other. The ritual of long, shared meals. The sense that life is happening right now, and it’s meant to be appreciated in the moment instead of worrying about the next thing on my to-do list.

Jane talks about these same values on her channel: how the French prioritize connection, how they prepare simple but beautiful meals, how they stay active in ways that feel joyful, not punishing. And for retirees, especially, many of whom have already spent years in busy, career-focused environments. This outlook on life can feel incredibly appealing. And incredibly different from what we experience in the US.

Living Like the French Wherever You Are

Jane filled me in that she is working on an online course full of guidance on how to adopt a more French lifestyle without having to pack up and move across the world (unless you want to do that… because you all know I’m all for it). Topics will include everything from learning to enjoy cooking again to rediscovering the art of conversation, choosing a form of movement you actually love, and finding beauty in everyday life.

She also shared that she is developing a second course focused on integrating into French culture, which would be ideal for those planning a move, or folks who are already in France and want to feel more comfortable in their new home abroad. 

I know I personally often struggled with an odd feeling of otherness — like I was almost on the outside of French culture looking in, even after months or years in there (I even spoke about this in a recent taip on tape YouTube episode). Jane’s course will offer a way in, in what promises to be a very thoughtful way.

But, I have to say, what I love most about Jane’s work is that it aligns so closely with what I — and what TAIP — believe in. That French culture has something to teach us, whether we live there full-time or not. That our quality of life improves when we slow down, talk more, and surround ourselves with beautiful things. That aging can be graceful, food can be simple, and joy should come naturally instead of being forced.

You can find Jane’s channel here, and I highly recommend subscribing, especially if you’re someone who’s craving a little more beauty, more ease, and more, well, joie de vivre. She publishes thoughtful videos on everything from painting to aging well, and her recent conversation with Stephen is now live there as well, plus some additional videos with me that will be coming out soon.

Whether you’re already living in France, planning your move, or just want some advice on how to slow down and appreciate life, I know you’ll enjoy it.

Photo by V2F on Unsplash

Did you enjoy this article? TAIP is 100% reader-supported through tipping. If you want to leave us a tip of any amount it would be highly appreciated.  These tips help support our efforts to keep TAIP an ad-free environment. Just like at a cafe, the tips are split evenly among the team.

5 Lessons I Learned from the French

I’ve learned a few lessons during my first 6 months of living in France. Over the past few in particular, I’ve noticed myself starting to adopt mindsets and approaches that inherently go against my cultural grain. To be honest, many things about French life feel more natural to me than my old habits. But like any fish in a new pond, I can still tell the water is different.

Here are a few of the lessons I’m taking with me as I return to the US for the summer.

1. Beauty is important.

The first time I stumbled into the park in my French neighborhood, I was stunned. Not only is it beautifully laid out, complete with a volcanic rock fountain and swans, but it is also incredibly well-kept. The flowers are changed out seasonally; the peacocks in its wildlife preserve are fed and tended to. This kind of beauty requires intentional planning, committed workers, and a generous budget. This is city money we are talking about. The idea of this kind of prioritization of beauty in local government blew my mind. 

Voting for beauty with time, effort, and generosity isn’t something reserved for my local park. Thriving flower shops around every other corner remind me that the French will spend their hard-earned money on bringing a little bit of beauty into their home or a friend’s. 

2. To be is worth more than to do.

This mindset is particularly put on display when it comes to French business hours. A two-hour lunch break is not uncommon for stores in smaller towns. This is because shop owners are often the ones working in their stores, and there isn’t someone else to take over for them during lunch. What’s more, they figure you (the customer) would like to eat lunch, too. So the pharmacy, the bank, the post office, and the little craft shop on the corner may take a break midday.

To my American mind, the idea of a store not being open continuously almost felt offensive on my arrival. I can happily say that is no longer the case. I see the value in taking a pause and appreciate that this allows shop owners to attend to other matters while offering a smaller overhead for their business. 

Though lived in the practical, this cultural foothold can also be seen in French behavior. On a sunny day, it’s normal to see people lying in the grass, sitting on a bench with a book, or walking tranquilly —without the goal of getting steps in. When I think about the idea of seeing someone lying in the grass at a park in my American suburban neighborhood, I would be worried that they weren’t okay. The art of being is something largely lost to the society I was raised in, and I am grateful to have rediscovered my identity as a human being, not as a human-doing, thanks to the French.

3. Conviction is not offensive, it is necessary.

Being convicted of one’s perspective and needs is a part of French society. In customer service situations, it is downright necessary.  You can feel the conviction of the French people everywhere. Walking down the street, you’ll hear the young and the old alike use the word franchement (French for frankly) before launching into their perspective on any given subject. 

There is a confrontational forwardness present in the culture that is refreshing. The French love to “talk it out” and understand the way that those close to them think. I’ve witnessed many a French conversation that could seem like a heated argument resolve in continued, and strengthened friendship. Having been conditioned to not talk about disagreements as an American, this particularly strikes a chord with my understanding of relationships. In the last six months, I have become more acutely aware of the beauty that comes from hashing things out. 

4. Sit down and share.

If you want a drink, you should have it sitting down in the company of others. Water bottles do exist in France, but they are not widely used and are typically smaller than those found in the States. Coffee and tea to go is also a rather recent novelty, that again, is not widely adopted. Beverages and meals are not meant to be consumed quickly, but are rather rituals to facilitate encounters. 

My first meal after moving to France was had over a three-hour conversation in a café. And at the end the three hours, I still had to ask for the check. There is an expectation of slowness that provides the space to share not just coffee, nor merely an afternoon, but one’s very life. 

5. To do a little very well is better than to do a lot.

This mentality can be found in the art of specialty. Every town in France has at least one artisan for each craft of the table: la formagerie, la boucherie, la chocolaterie, la pâtisserie, and let us not forget the oh-so-essential boulangerie. There is a sacredness to the art of making that is protected culturally. Sure, you can get cheese and meat and bread from the supermarket, and perhaps for a cheaper price, but the best of the best is available for purchase just around the corner from the craftsmen themselves. 

This principle is even more evident at the local market. I’ve seen vendors with a singular (massive) wheel of cheese, sharing a piece of their months of work with their community. They’ve mastered one thing, and that’s enough. 

To some, the lessons I’ve learned may seem surprisingly simple, or obscenely obvious. My takeaways speak specifically to my experiences here and stateside. Another person in another town would naturally notice other differences according to their cultural palate.

I think if someone had proposed these ideas to me a year ago, I would have assented to them on a mental plane. But as someone raised in suburban America, my agreement would have been colored with a somewhat utilitarian vision of parks, stores and time. I look forward to carrying these ideas into the way I approach my day-to-day living as I continue to be a student of this lovely land. 

Photo of the pond in my neighborhood park.

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blue l'apéritif sign

The Ritual of the French Apéro

If you’ve spent an extended amount of time in France with actual French people, you know all about the ritual of the apéro — and that ritual is the best word to describe it.

Consistently splitting my time between the United States and France basically ever since I made my big move in 2014, I can’t help but notice and reflect on the cultural differences between Americans and French people. 

One of the many things that the French do right is their attitude around socializing, entertaining, and hosting. The French are inherently social whereas Americans (at least the ones I know and love) are fundamentally individualist — this comes out in so, so many ways — something I would have never figured out if I hadn’t committed to splitting my life in two amongst the two cultures.

After some extended time with my French in-laws over the holidays, it suddenly hit my I-spend-too-much-time-online millennial brain: did the French invent yapping? For my less chronically online readers, to yap is to chat, and boy do the French love to chit-chat. It’s totally normal for a group of friends to meet up around 5pm to begin apéro, only to part in the wee hours of the morning. And what did they do for the past eight or nine hours, you may ask? They talked. And enjoyed their apéro.

The Meaning and History of l’Apéro

Apéro is the colloquial version of the word apéritif, which comes from the Latin word aperire, meaning “to open.” It makes sense — l’apéro “opens” the meal and is meant to stimulate the appetite. 

In the past, apéritifs were herbal or medicinal drinks like fortified wine or bitter liqueurs designed to help digestion. This practice dates back to the Middle Ages, but it grew in popularity with the masses in the 19th century when drinks like vermouth, pastis, and Suze became widely available and enjoyed.

Over time, l’apéro evolved beyond a simple pre-dinner drink into a full-fledged social event. Now, that’s not to say that most French people have parties every night of the week before dinner. My in-laws usually have a beer along with some savory snacks like chips or pretzels (the only time I ever see them snack, really) before dinner when my husband and I come over. They still call it apéro, but it’s not as elaborate.

As the tradition grew, it transformed into a moment of relaxation, conversation, and conviviality that is deeply embedded in French culture. Unlike American happy hours, where discounted drinks and quick socializing are the name of the game, the French apéro is about slowing down, savoring the moment, and participating in some good old-fashioned existential conversation.

Whenever I have evening plans with my French friends, 99% of the time we’re having l’apéro at someone’s apartment. It’s an opportunity to débriefer our weeks, catch up on gossip, and spend time together. Everyone is responsible for bringing something to eat and drink, and it often turns into an apéro dinatoire, in which snack food becomes more substantial so we don’t have to worry about cooking a big meal.

The Unspoken Apéro Rules

As I already alluded to, l’apéro is not about getting as drunk as quickly as you can, so one of the first rules every American should heed is to pace yourself. This isn’t pregaming or predrinks. It’s sipping and savoring. I have never taken shots at l’apéro.

Another unspoken rule I briefly mentioned is that everyone is expected to show up with something. I’ve found this to be true at any French social engagement, and it’s something that isn’t as engrained into American culture: if you’re invited somewhere, you bring something along, even if no one asked you to. My French husband was appalled when I told him, “We don’t really do that in the States.” Now, even when we are in the US, we always bring a little gift and I’m honestly glad we do even though it’s not the norm. People appreciate it.

I digress. The next rule to abide by is to prepare yourself for constant conversation for several hours straight. As the more reserved, American person I am, I have to admit that by hour six or seven I’m usually ready to go home, whereas my husband could keep yapping along for another five. Topics range from things like what’s going on in our day-to-day lives, things we got up to over the week, what’s going on at work, to politics, religion, and, yes, existential topics like life, death, and what happens next. I’m not kidding or exaggerating at all — this level of depth is what I like most about the French, and you really see it come out at l’apéro.

I think the last unspoken rule is to respect the ritual. Again, l’apéro is not a pregame for a wild night out and when done right you shouldn’t have a headache the next morning. It’s a moment to relax after a long day or week, to catch up with friends, family, and loved ones, to enjoy a great glass of wine, to share good conversation, and to bask in the fact that you are where you are without any other place to be. 

I don’t think we have anything like it in the US. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.

Photo by Etienne Girardet on Unsplash

Did you enjoy this article? TAIP is 100% reader-supported through tipping. If you want to leave us a tip of any amount it would be highly appreciated. These tips help support our efforts to keep TAIP an ad-free environment. Just as at a cafe, the tips are split evenly among the team.

How to Apply for French Citizenship, Part III: Nailing the Interview

I only think they ask you those questions if you’re boring, Stephen.” I was having coffee with Oliver, who hosts The Earful Tower. “I honestly think that people who give tight-lipped answers don’t give the interviewers anywhere to go, so they have to keep going back to the standard list of questions.”

It was two days before my interview and I appreciated my friend’s reframing of the issue and accepted it, to an extent. I had read about by-the-book interviewers who really didn’t care about who you were but were just running through a fairly difficult list of questions. As I mentioned in my previous article, I had been preparing for the interview in a very casual way for years, cataloguing almost all the answers in the Applying for French Nationality Facebook group into a giant Apple Note. I had taken the questions that appeared every single time and put them first in my preparation notebook. I then created a second section with all of the weird/less frequently asked questions so that at least I would have some preparation on those in case I got them.

I studied everything and had a friend mock-interview me three consecutive nights prior to the interview, correcting any factual errors as well as any errors in expression or grammar. By the time I showed up for my interview, I felt like I had done everything I could have to prepare.

The experience was unlike what I had experienced before in obtaining or renewing a Carte de Sejour. Firstly, I didn’t have to make the appointment, the French made it. Secondly, I didn’t have to stand in a line at Cité for two hours with a large number of people just to get in for an appointment which may then be delayed another hour or two. The sign outside the small building on rue des Ursins stated that we should not expect to show up more than 30 minutes early for our appointment. I had arrived about 20 minutes early and the man at the front asked for my convocation and ID. He then sent me up to the third floor where about half a dozen people were quietly, pensively, sitting.

I had worn a suit and tie that day, hoping to make a good first impression, and before I started reviewing my notebook one last time, I glanced around the room, wondering at all the stories and what had brought us all here, in common, to this day and moment.

My slot was at 09h15 and when it came to be 09h27 I checked with a woman who has administering an exit survey and she told me not to worry, that my name would be called. Sure enough, about ten minutes later it was.

My interviewer apologized for being late and offered me a seat in front of her desk. While there were many such desks in the room (I estimate maybe a dozen) they were arranged in such a way (and the conversations were conducted in such a tone) that there was still a fair amount of confidentiality.

I flipped my notebook to a blank page so I could take note of what I was being asked for. She didn’t seem to object. Then we got started.

Housekeeping

The first part of the interview went like almost any bureaucratic procedure in France: verification of identity. I was asked for my passport, birth certificate, and CDS. They had all of this already via my dossier, but she was probably obligated to handle the genuine documents. I saw her compare the information in her hands to the scans I could see on her computer screen. For each document this ran maybe 60 seconds at the most. She handed each back to me.

She asked if my situation had changed since I applied (it had not) and whether my income was mostly derived in France or outside France (the correct answer here is “in France”) and whether I belonged to any associations (I shared one that I had participated in for years).

I was asked if I had ever been married or PACSed and if I had any children (no to all).

The Basics

Here is a list of the questions that I was asked that I had known I would be asked:

  • What is the devise of the French Republic? This refers to the motto of “liberte, egalite, and fraternite.” I gave definitions for each. She asked me to articulate further on fraternite and I answered that included solidarity with all citizens on their rights and duties and equal treatment under the law.
  • What are some of those rights? I answered: right to vote, right to access to public employment, and right to equal treatment under the law.
  • What is the national holiday? In this context, this is a reference to the 14th of July. I explained what happened that day and what the Bastille was prior to its being stormed.
  • What other symbols of the country are there? I answered the constitution (dating from 1958), the flag (explained which colors corresponded to what), and the figure of Marianne (who is featured in each mairie via a bust and on the postal stamps).
  • Name some of the presidents of the Fifth Republic. I was still nervous at this point and named all of them in chronological order. I laughed and apologized, saying that I was nervous. She hand-waved it away, urging me to be at my ease.
  • Name some important figures in the life of France. I named Clovis, Henry IV, Louis XVI, Marie Curie, and Charles de Gaulle, with reasons why each were important. I could have gone on, but I kept looking for her to indicate my answer was sufficient and when I saw that I stopped.
  • How is the legislative body comprised? I told her that there were 577 deputies and 348 senators. I could have discussed their term lengths and might have named where they met also (I had studied it, after all), but she didn’t ask for more so I didn’t offer more.
  • What about laicite? This is the institutional religious indifference enshrined in French law. I explained the reasons given for its promulgation and various dates that were important in relation to it (1905, 2004, 2010). She followed by asking me about why the policy exists and I shared that one reason it might exist is because of the diversity of cultures and religions in the country, but did not offer my own opinion on the policy. Remember that this is a key piece of advice I always share: do not give the French more than they ask for, in documents or in verbal answers. It is not necessarily helpful.
  • Do you travel in France? Where? I shared some of my favorite places, les Calanques in Marseille, the hortillonages of Amiens, Mont-Saint-Michel, and the battlefields in Normandy. I also shared why each mattered to me.
  • How often do you visit the United States? Almost every summer, I said, mostly because my nieces and nephews are out of school then and it’s easier for me to spend time with them that way. But not outside of that annual visit.
  • Why do you want to be French? As I often tell TAIP clients, there is one single item on which almost every dossier crucially turns. The answer to this question is the most crucial in your interview. And of course, it’s a highly personal, specialized answer. There’s not a template for it. For me, I shared that I had felt at home in France since my earliest days there, and as someone born in one country and raised in another, choosing a third country offered an opportunity to construct a coherent worldview that harmonized with the other influences in your life. Prominent in my identification with the French was the notion of “working to live” rather than “living to work” (prevalent in the US) and my love of the history, culture, and people of the country. “I feel French,” I told her, “so I am asking to become so officially.”

The Misses

Here are questions I expected but did not get:

  • Tell me about your entourage. They are looking here for the types of friends you have, i.e. are you mostly surrounded by expats or do you actually have French friends.
  • What are your links to France? Apart from your friends and work situation, this could further riff on what you like to do or where you have traveled and plan to travel to.
  • Name some hobbies. These days I mostly read, and was prepared to discuss what I had been reading about lately.
  • Name some of the French holdings overseas. These are the DROM/COM and I was so ready to talk about all of this but wasn’t asked.
  • What are key dates relating to France and the European Union? The 1951 Treaty of Paris and the 1958 Treaty of Rome, and if you want to get political you could talk about the Lisbon treaty that the French rejected but got forced to accept anyway. 🙂
  • Name some French regions/departments. I had fun all week drawing maps of France and wanted to name all 13 regions just for fun. Alas! I was also prepared to name every department in Ile-de-France, and the corresponding two-digit number.
  • Name some rivers or mountain ranges. Again, I was ready to nail this, but she didn’t ask.
  • What happens if the President dies? The President of the Senat can be asked to take over temporarily.
  • What were the main effects of the French Revolution? Again, I would have offered what had been outlined in the citizenship booklet, not my own thoughts or opinions.

The Extras

Here are questions I was asked but I knew were not necessarily part of the “core” that everyone is asked:

  • Do you travel in Europe? Where? I didn’t want to get into an extended discussion about all the places I had been to in Europe, so I just picked England, the Netherlands, and Hungary, noting that I had friends in those places that I enjoyed seeing (again, no more information than is being asked).
  • Who is the Prime Minister? I had actually studied a list of a dozen or so ministers, somewhat scared by someone who had recently shared that she was asked to name at least six. Thankfully, I only had to answer Michel Barnier for this question, which was correct at the time. I don’t know who his replacement is.

The Whoa!

Here are questions I did not expect but got:

  • What do you think about the equality of men and women? I initially laughed at this question because I had obviously missed this in my prep somewhere. I came to find out later it was part of a rotating group of questions to see your personal opinion on questions related to sexism, racism, and homosexual civil rights. I got the “sexism” question. I contextualized my laughter by answering that the countries I had been raised in (Singapore and the US) accepted the equality of men and women without question but that I could understand that the answer to this question may not be as obvious in other parts of the world.
  • What do you think of the right to express criticism or even mocking of leadership or religion? I level-set by asking if she was referring to magazines like Charlie Hebdo, and she nodded. I could have spoken about this for a long time, but as I keep saying, I focused on a concise expression rather than a discursive entree into a long discussion: I believe that it is important to be able to criticize, and to some extent, even mock, our leaders and institutions and key figures in order to have a healthy society.

The Well, Maybe…

Here are questions I did not expect but studied a tiny bit because at least one person had mentioned he/she had been asked:

  • Name some of your favorite French sayings. I planned to discuss a number of the agricultural and farming idioms, starting with “mêle-toi de tes oignons.” I’ve always loved the references to nature in the French language.
  • Name some plays by Moliere. I’ve never read any Moliere, actually, but I had written down three plays I might stutter out if asked (and I have a resolution now to read La Misanthrope in the new year). I had hoped I might deflect into some general questions about French authors, directors, or actors, and I had a pocketful of those ready to go, with a special mention of The Diary of a Country Priest, not only a fine novel by Georges Bernanos, but a thoughtful film by Robert Bresson.
  • Who is the mayor of your arrondissement? Emmanuelle Pierre-Marie governs the 12th.
  • What do you like about your arrondissement? I was prepared with cafes, places to stroll, even the biography of the man who was the namesake of the roundabout my apartment is close to.
  • Who wrote the Marseillaise and when? Claude Joseph Rouget de Lisle, in 1792. Would you believe that one of my friends was asked to sing this during her interview?

I grabbed a celebratory dinner with friends over the weekend at an Uzbek restaurant in Paris and realized almost all of them had obtained French nationality either by decree or by marriage. One of the key talking points that was shared with my Swedish friend Karin, who was currently going through the “by marriage” route was that the French cannot legally refuse nationality to someone who they believe is in a genuine marriage, hence the dossier is really focused on establishing the fact of the marriage. They may ask some of the questions I was asked above for my “decree” route, but they have no substantial bearing on the decision. The spouses are interviewed separately to make sure the “stories match” about how they met, each other’s characteristics, etc.

We were finally at the end of the interview, it felt like, but it had flown by. She asked if I had received my updated tax document for 2023. I told her I had and she asked me to log in and email it to her right then and I did and she downloaded it and added it to my dossier.

She then gave me a document to sign which was a list of the rights and duties of a French citizen. The document begins by reminding you that obtaining citizenship is not just an administrative function, but will deeply affect you and your descendants. Weighty enough, indeed. She told me to take my time reading it and when I was ready, I needed to sign it. It’s not long (you can read it here) and I speed-skimmed it, as almost all of it was matter I had already studied to prepare for the interview. I signed and dated it, she scanned it into my dossier, and handed the original back to me (we really are in a new paperless era!).

She then told me it could take some time for a decision and that I would be notified by email as I had been all throughout the process. She then thanked me and walked me out, and I spent a couple minutes filling out a voluntary exit survey.

In all it took probably 40 minutes of my time. My interviewer was not typing in my answer to every question and reading it back to me (what I was expecting based on reports from previous interviews) but was rather mentally pulling out questions and would, I expected, write up a report of her impressions as part of her decision to give me a favorable or unfavorable mark.

As with so much in life, all you can do is speak about your own impression. If you think you did well on an exam, most times you will have, though sometimes circumstances can work against you. So too here, if I had to bet my entire nationality dossier on this interview, I would say I made a very good case, but there may be other parts of my application that they will question. In retrospect, perhaps I had “over prepared” but the best preparation for a nationality interview is living a fully integrated (which includes speaking French every day) life in France. Everything else will flow from that experience.

So if I’m to be denied it will most likely happen before the beginning of February. If no word comes before then, I have a very strong chance of being approved. So, no news is good news in this case.

Here’s what happened next.

Photo is of the door which leads to the waiting room for your interview.

Did you enjoy this article? TAIP is 100% reader-supported through tipping. If you want to leave us a tip of any amount it would be highly appreciated. These tips help support our efforts to keep TAIP an ad-free environment. Just as at a cafe, the tips are split evenly among the team.

How to Apply for French Citizenship, Part II: Interview Prep

The first article on my citizenship journey came out in April. In it, I said, “I expect to receive communication from the prefecture within 2-3 months, and if all is satisfactory with my dossier, an interview date 2-3 months beyond that.

I was generally right. The interview date was actually for about 7 months from that submission in April, but it was only for a few weeks after I got the all-clear on my dossier.

To be fair, after a decade with the French, I feel like I know their bureaucratic rhythms, even the new speedy post-Covid ones.

On October 21st a message appeared in my account asking for more documentation:

Attention merci de ne pas répondre à ce message, veuillez uniquement scanner en un seul document: Les bilans comptables annuels des années 2021, 2022 et 2023.

My first thought was, “Oh no, do the French want to audit my business?” But after I pondered it a bit longer, I realized it was the same thing I so often tell TAIP clients: the French are following a checklist, so give them everything they want on the checklist.

My French business accountant was kind enough to combine all three requested tax years into a single PDF, as the message demanded, and I submitted it the very next day, the 22nd.

Two days later, on the 24th, I received two messages, one right after the other.

The first one was a “Récépissé de Completude de Dossier de Demande de Naturalisation.” This was distinct from the original “Confirmation de Dépot” that I alluded to in the last article. The distinction seems to be that the first step is simply an acknowledgment that you have submitted the paperwork that was asked for. In contrast, the Récépissé implied, at least to me, that the entire dossier had been checked at least once, probably twice, by competent authorities and was found to have no serious holes (apart from the paperwork which they requested and I gave). Here’s some of the text:

RÉCÉPISSÉ DE COMPLÉTUDE DE DOSSIER DE DEMANDE DE NATURALISATION

(décret n° 93-1362 du 30 décembre 1993 – article 37)

Monsieur HEINER STEPHEN (my middle name) né à SINGAPOUR (SINGAPOUR) le (my date of birth) demeurant au (my address) 75012 Paris a déposé le 08/02/2024 à la Prefecture de Police un dossier n° (my dossier number) de demande de naturalisation, après l’avoir examinée, et constaté son caractère complet, la Prefecture de Police va procéder à son instruction.

In times past, and with less efficient processes, there may have been a lag between this Récépissé and my Convocation for my interview. In this case, there was no lag whatsoever. The very next message included:

CONVOCATION

ENTRETIEN D’ASSIMILATION

Monsieur HEINER STEPHEN (my middle name), vous avez déposé une demande de naturalisation n° (my dossier number) dans mon service.

Afin de pouvoir procéder à l’entretien réglementaire nécessaire à l’instruction de votre dossier, je vous serais obligé de vous présenter :

Le (a date in November) à 09:15 précises

Lieu : Préfecture de police – Délégation à l’immigration – Pôle de l’accès à la nationalité – 11 rue des Ursins 75004 Paris

Afin de poursuivre l’instruction de votre dossier, je vous prie d’apporter le jour de votre convocation l’ensemble des pièces d’état civil déposées lors de votre demande, en version originale.

That date was less than a month from the email I received, so my pre-planned studies went into high gear.

Now, let’s be clear, by “high gear” I don’t mean eight-hour study days. But I did set aside at least one hour a day every day until the interview to review what I wanted to know cold, which included, among other things:

  • History of the 5th Republic (who was the 3rd President?)
  • General French Geography (where is the Rhone River valley?)
  • The mechanics of government (who is elected for how long and what kind of power does that person have?)
  • Trivia (French authors and musicians, French actors and actresses, when was the death penalty abolished, etc.)

I had been generically familiar with these things but having combed the Internet for years in preparation (whenever anyone would publish the interview questions he/she was asked I saved them to an ever-growing Apple Note) I didn’t want to get caught out on something basic.

I’ve also added some B2 study modules to flex some additional tenses and vocabulary in the interview.

But let’s be clear here, the interview is not really about a sort of French Trivial Pursuit contest and getting every question “right” (more than one naturalized friend has told me he/she got at least one question “wrong” in the interview). At its heart, it is an “entretien d’assimilation,” an interview about how well I had integrated into France. The interview is to be conducted entirely in French, which also implies being able to use various tenses to talk about your past life, your present life, and your hopes for the future.

Things interviewers like to hear:

  • That you have French friends
  • That you have connections in France, whether that’s through joining associations or volunteer work
  • That you’ve traveled in France and have learned some things through that travel
  • That you accept French values and have incorporated them into your life
  • That you’re not a jerk

I half-kid on that last point, only to say that in recent times I think the authorities have taken to combing your social media profiles, so if you are at all critical of France and her government, that might be held against you, even if “liberté” is touted as a “republican value” that is treasured by the state (and hence, should be treasured by you). But it is reasonable for the French, or any nation, to put a barrier up against naturalizing people who openly criticize the country when they are still only residents, even long-term residents. Such privileges are reserved for citizens, at least one would hope.

From my research I’ve found that interviews have lasted as short as 15 minutes and have gone as long as 30 minutes.

Something Jean Taquet has always stressed to me over the years and that I’ve taken to heart is the importance of having a cover letter to present that tells your interviewer why you want to become French. The current digital process doesn’t really give a space for this (i.e. a place to upload “any other documentation you might find helpful,” something that Americans consider normal but the French would consider abhorrent, as it doesn’t fit on a checklist), though Jean told me later I should have simply included it as part of the PDF of another document. In any case, I will have a one-page version of said cover letter ready, along with letters of recommendation from two friends, to present in person at my interview. If the interviewer takes the time to scan it briefly, the content of the interview may go along the outlines of the points I’ve made in the cover letter rather than the standard questions that all the interviewers can draw from.

Doli, who you’ve seen wax lyrical on bilingualism on this site, told me that her interview was almost entirely on bilingualism, as the interviewer was intrigued with her course of study and Doli basically spoke for 30-45 minutes straight before the interviewer finally wrapped things up. Doli faced no questions on presidents or mountains or where the Senate meets (the Luxembourg Palace, in case you’re wondering), reinforcing the points I made above: the interview is less about reciting facts and more about explicating the case you are making in your dossier: I feel French (for these reasons) and let me tell you (in French) all about it while you ask me (in French) follow-up questions.

I can’t wait to tell you about how it went. You’ll hear in the next article.

The image is a screenshot from my dashboard on the Etrangers en France site, showing my current progress towards a decision on nationality.

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