By Eva Blum

Having just returned from a year living in Paris, many people have asked me what I miss about France now I am back, and what I missed about America while I was away.

The main thing I absolutely loved about France was the respect the French have for women, particularly older women. In America, older women are often invisible, to both men and younger women. As an older woman I have often had the experience of feeling ‘tolerated’ when talking to a male professional, tradesperson or shop assistant, rather than respected. This is particularly true when in the company of a man.

This was demonstrated clearly to me last summer in Miami when I went into my local wine shop to buy wine with a friend. He picked up a cigar while I looked at the wine. The owner greeted him warmly, insisted on showing him some recommended wines, while completely ignoring me. I left the shop without purchasing anything.

In France when I met any man, whether a professional, garage mechanic, tradesperson or gardener in any situation, I was always respected. Eye contact was maintained with me; so much so at times that I felt was the only one there. It was a terrific feeling to be such an integral part of any conversation, and one I had not felt since I was young and attractive. Equal respect for women is innate in French culture, and now President Macron is in power with his beautiful wife, older women are more respected than ever.

By contrast, I missed the easy chat in America. Americans are known for being informal and quick to greet people, even acquaintances, with a "How's it going?”, whereas the French, need to be introduced. Once there is an introduction, they are warm and friendly but there is nothing like being able to go up to a complete stranger and just chat.

I was on the beach in Key Largo recently and started talking to a fellow swimmer about swimming and the weather. We then moved on to more personal experiences, and it was wonderful to get to know a total stranger in such an easy exchange. In the same way, motorists in America will often

embrace the friendly 'driver's wave' and smile at each other, which would never happen in France. French drivers are reserved and aloof in their cars; perhaps because they need all their concentration to approach roundabouts at full tilt with horns blaring.

My year in Paris was magical. I made many friends, improved my French and enjoyed the glorious city and all the museums and restaurants. The vegetables and fruit at the open air markets were full of flavor. Bread and cheese and excellent red wine all contributed to a wonderful gastronomic experience, and a few extra pounds.

Many women in their forties, fifties, and sixties feel they are becoming irrelevant. They are leaving the workforce in droves. Living in France for a year, I get the impression that women my age are more appreciated for their wise qualities and life-learning. A wonderful feeling.

I love France, the French, the language, their way of life, their culture but, all in all, there is no place like home and, returning to Miami I felt I belonged. It is this sense of belonging that defines home for me.

Eva Blum enjoys writing about the joys and challenges of being a 50-something woman in a 20-somethings' world, travel, all things, wellness, culture, lifestyle, and general observations about life. Eva is single, and a resident of Sunny Isles, Florida. She has two adult children and four grandchildren (each child has two children).