When you outwit the system in France, it's known as Système D. There are times when I've been able to do it, French mojo seeming to be working its magic. Othertimes, the system seems more powerful than any one individual and I can feel beaten down and bewildered by the French Powers That Be.
For example, getting the children enrolled in the French day camps is not a clear or easy task for an outsider, but working the system is effective and clear. I will enroll my two kids on Wednesday and will likely have a full report on that effort, and its results, for Wednesday night.
But take the Bibliothèque Nataionale, where I am conducting a fair amount of my research this summer. Some of the rules are clear and obvious; you must obtain a Reader's Card in order to access the collections. As a student, this is a huge hurdle that requires official, stamped letters of support, and an interview, but as a faculty member it is more of a simple enrollment process (already being in their computer system helps, too!).
Other aspects of the BN are not nearly so consistent. There is a coat check, for example. The first two days, I could take most everything with me, including my very handy handbag organizer, which allows me to just lift an inner "bag in a bag" from my tote to the clear plastic boxes that BN patrons must carry. This policy has been in effect at the big, new BN site for many years, but this year is the first time that I've encountered it at the site where I'm working. Hey, I'm all for consistency. No worries there.
Then on the third day, the low-level reading room staff member tells me that I'm not allowed to bring the bag organizer in to the reading room, even if it's inside the clear plastic box. I respond that the coat-check person encouraged me to bring it with me. Reading room person is unmoved and will not assign me a seat until I go back downstairs and into another building to put the bag organizer into my checked bag. I will not tempt fate again, but will heretofore leave the smaller bag behind.
More interesting, and sometimes more irritating, still, are the no-basis-in-reality rules associated with the research documents themselves. I find these shifting regulations especially funny because back in 2004, when I was working on my dissertation, the head archivist of this collection actually invited me into her office, thereby performing an end-run around *all* of the rules, and allowed me to examine documents and do my research at the desk next to hers. When she had meetings, I was left entirely alone with these materials. Talk about trust!
Down at the reading room, it's a different world. And depending on the day and on the lackey at the desk, I may be subject to any number of different protocols. One woman would only give me 3 file folders at a time; she handed them to me with the warning that I was not shuffle the materials from one folder to the next. Her colleague, the stickler for what goes in my plastic case, allowed me 5-8 file folders at a time (He got to choose how many), but no warning about mixing the stuff up. Other staff members have given me whole boxes at a time, and Friday after lunch I was given TWO boxes of materials. Imagine if I weren't careful?! Of course, the ready availability of the documents made Friday my most productive day yet. I'm hoping that girl is at the desk more often!
The French don't enjoy these unfounded and arbitrary expressions of power any more than Americans do, but as they are so very common, the French expect them more and accept them better, with fewer feathers ruffled. When I'm really working the Système D, I can manage to get an exception, if it suits me. That is powerful mojo, however, that must be saved for the most critical moments of interface with French rules and regulations. More on that Wednesday, I imagine!
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