FrenchPressJourneys: The Foot

Comfortably seated in our train seats, my friend next to the window, me on the aisle, I look up from my knitting and cringe in horror. In my direct line of vision is a foot, not just any old foot but a foot belonging to a French person. What is this foot doing? There in all its bare glory, it is sitting up on the table, the table meant for crusty baguette sandwiches with ham and cheese, brightly labeled soft drinks, best sellers and crossword puzzles, baby toys and pacifiers. The foot looks quite dirty as if it walked all the way to the train station with neither socks nor shoes. I try to ignore it, but I can't. It is a woman's foot, a woman in her forties surrounded by her family in the compartment meant for four passengers. Every time I look up, I see it. I cringe repeatedly. Finally, I mention the foot to my friend. She squints to see it through the peep hole between seats. Much to my relief, she is horrified as well. We discuss how scandalous this behavior is in French culture, maybe any culture. The ticket controller walks by and totally ignores the foot. It seems permanently stuck to the table. As we finally approach our destination, I ponder saying something to her. How would I approach her? Excusez-moi, Madame, your foot is on the table, and I don't think that is done in France. Or excusez-moi, Madame, is there a problem with your foot? Are you in pain? Can I get you a shoe and a sock? How about a fine for incivility and indecent exposure of a foot. But I am too jet lagged to brave this confrontation. So I too say nothing. What is happening to French manners and politeness? Many of the passengers exhibit strange behaviors like wiping their nose on their sleeve. I will spare you other examples since you most likely get my point. Next time I see a scandalous expression of rudeness, I resolve to put my foot down and say something.