Immigration, Religion, and "National Identity"

Being in France, I've found that a lot of the current issues involving immigrants here mirror those in the U.S., the main difference being the immigrants' countries of origin and religion. A lot of the immigrants in France, particularly in southern France, come from Africa and the Middle East, and a large percentage of them are Muslim. Like those in the U.S., immigrants in France tend to live in poorer neighborhoods and often lack access to education, healthcare, and employment opportunities. Perhaps even moreso than in the U.S., though, immigrants, especially Muslim immigrants, are widely accused of failing to adequately integrate themselves into French culture and society.

Further, it's no secret that Muslims are discriminated against in France, even by the government. The wearing of headscarves is banned in French schools (technically, all religious symbols are banned, but the ban most profoundly affects Muslims), Sarkozy's party is presently seeking a complete ban on burqas, and a majority of the French population support a ban on the construction of minarets, such as that recently enacted through a controversial national referedum in Switzerland.

With discrimination against immigrants, and even French-born Muslims, already a problem, President Sarkozy has decided that France needs to officially debate its "national identity." Led by Sarkozy and his controversial Minister of Immigration, Eric Besson, the debates on "what it means to be French" began in November and are scheduled to continue for two more months. It seems to me that this is fuel on the fire of discrimination in France, not to mention a complete waste of time and resources, and, well, sort of an odd thing to do.

The debates have even garnered media attention in the U.S. "France, a nation endlessly fascinated with itself since at least as far back as the Gauls, is again engaged in a bizarre and deeply political debate over its national identity," begins a New York Times article from late last month. Similarly, a recent L.A. Times article chronicles the circus that was last week's debate.

La Banque Alimtentaire

Along with a handful of other social and humanitarian organizations, Rotary Clubs across France recently participated in a food drive. Food collected in each town was distributed locally, through branches of a well-known French charity called Restos du Coeur ("Restaurants of the Heart"). Apparently, about 8,000 people in Tours rely on food from organizations like Restos du Coeur to meet their everyday needs.

Along with Rotary and Rotaract members from the area, I participated in the events here in Tours. The first day of the drive, I helped collect donations at a supermarket in one of the poorest neighborhoods in Tours. The majority of people who came into the store were immigrants or minorities or had handicaps. They went against every American stereotype of France, and it was very eye-opening to see such a different side of Tours. Honestly, I was surprised by how many of them made donations, and it was really wonderful to see them giving. Equally wonderful was the amount of food I saw collected on the second day, when I was helping at a supermarket in a much nicer neighborhood. I was [pleasantly] shocked by the number of people who bought more food to donate than they did for themselves.

Rotaract Friends!

I've had a few opportunities lately to spend time with a group of French students from the Rotaract Club of Tours (Rotaract clubs are essentially Rotary clubs for university students and professionals under 30). The Rotaract students and their friends are extremely kind and very patient with my French, and they have been really welcoming to me. I appreciate them so much - it's a wonderful feeling to be included in a group of locals while in a foreign country.

The first time I met up with the Rotaract students, they showed me a typical night out for young French people. We started around 6pm at a café, where everyone had espresso (cups of coffee as we know them don't really exist here). Then, we headed down the street to a little restaurant for apéritifs and a dinner of tartines (which fall somewhere between an open-faced sandwich and a flat-bread pizza). After chatting at the restaurant for awhile after dinner, they took me to Le Paradis Vert - France's biggest billiards hall is right here in Tours! After a couple rounds of pool, we ended the night at a bar near Place Plumereau (the center of nightlife in Tours). We split a bottle of Vouvray, a sparkling wine made from Chenin blanc grapes grown right outside of Tours. (Order your own bottle here!)

My few outings with the Rotaract students and their friends have provided really wonderful insight into the culture of French youth and have also offered me some of the best French practice I've had since I arrived in Tours. Merci beaucoup!

Facing Anti-Americanism

Prior to the incident I'm about to describe, I have only really encountered anti-American sentiment one time in my travels. In most of the places I've been, people ask me where I from, I say "the U.S.," and they respond, "America!!" The first time I was met with a more negative response was in Marrakech, Morocco, last spring, as my American friend and I were sitting on a bench in the medina. A Moroccan man approached us, asked where we were from, and proceeded to inform us that Moroccans, and Muslims in general, do not like Americans because of President Bush, Israel, and the War in Iraq. We tried to explain that lots of Americans are upset about these issues as well, and that we are not representative of the U.S. government, but he seemed uninterested in our defenses. Regardless, he left after a couple minutes. For me, that was encounter number one with anti-Americanism.

The second came a couple weeks ago, as I was eating dinner with my French host mom, Saud (my housemate, a student from Saudi Arabia) and our neighbor, Jackline (a French lady who is probably about 45). Things were going normally, until the conversation began to gradually descend into a rant against America and Americans. It began with Jackline's comment that other countries need to maintain their own identities so the U.S. doesn't take over the whole world and American-ize all the other countries. Saud agreed vehemently, and, while Jackline may have gone a bit too far in saying that the U.S. wants to turn the world into a scene from 1984, I don't want the U.S. to take over the entire world, either. So, while perhaps slightly uncomfortable, that was fine.

Then, she got into how Americans are uninformed about other countries and cultures. While I felt personally attacked, as she motioned to me every time she said something derogatory about "les américains," I do think people in the U.S. should know more about other places, and it is quite clear that Europeans are more informed about the world than Americans are. Jackline conveniently exemplified this with her knowledge of the U.S. and Africa. She also pointed out that Americans know less about American literature than Europeans do - which, frankly, is probably true. While I didn't really disagree with any of these comments, I was rather surprised that she applied this generalization to all "les américains," myself included - when I am the one living in a new country, learning about a new culture, and studying a different language, and particularly when Jackline knows about my interest and experience in Africa. So, my best defense here was, "Ce n'est pas tous les américans qui sont comme ça" (Not all Americans are like that) and "Il y a aussi des français comme ça" (There are French people like that, too). My host mother also pointed this out, though she couldn't really get a word in edgewise, but I was glad somebody was on my side.

Jackline also gave a long explanation about how European schools are better than American schools. "Je suis desolée, mais c'est vrai, vous n'apprenez pas beaucoup dans vos écoles" (I'm sorry, but it's true, you don't learn much in your schools). While I don't have much experience with primary or secondary education here, my understanding is that the French curriculum is more advanced than the standard U.S. curriculum, but not as advanced as honors/Advanced Placement/International Baccalaureate classes in the U.S. (the equivalent of which is apparently not very common in France). Also, from what I have read, the school systems in Germany and northern Europe are far more advanced than France's. Further, and I wish I had said this to Jackline but I didn't, European universities, for the most part, are noticeably inferior to those in the U.S. It takes fewer semesters to earn an equivalent degree, there is significantly more vacation time, universities have very few general education requirements, students spend fewer hours in school per week, and they have substantially less work (homework, papers, studying, etc.). In fact, I was recently talking about the French and U.S. education systems with a group of French university students, when one of them said to me, "You have to do a lot of reading at your universities, right? We don't do much reading."

Then, the topic turned to U.S. foreign policy. Jackline, like most French people, oppose the War in Iraq - not surprising. She also made the point that the U.S. government cares about 3,000 people who died on 9/11, but not about the exponentially greater number who have died in Iraq. Again, I was torn between agreeing with her and being irritated by her motions to me when she talked about "les américains."

We then moved from Iraq to foreign aid. Jackline complained that Americans do nothing to help the world and that all we do is exploit poor countries. While I don't completely disagree, I resented the insinuations that the French do so much more for other parts of the world. Both France and the U.S. host large government-run aid programs and tons of NGOs, though much more is needed. I can't say which country actually does more, but I can say that neither country is really doing "enough." Further, I would argue that, over the past 150 years or so, the French government has done at least as much harm in other countries as the U.S. government. French colonization caused huge damage in West and Central Africa, and there is significant evidence that the French government played a role in supporting the 1994 genocide in Rwanda. I wish I had also pointed out to Jackline everything the U.S. did for France during and after World War II - such as the D-Day landings in Normandy and the Marshall Plan, which (though it had other goals as well) included programs to reconstruct Western Europe after the end of the war.

The other interesting factor is that Jackline, my host mother, and her extended family all make a huge, ridiculous fuss about Saud being Muslim. There is frequently irritation with/mocking of his prayers - "Where did Saud go?" "He went upstairs to pray." "What? He went to pray?! hahaha! Oh, my god!" - and the fact that Muslims pray at sundown often prompts questions of "What? Why did he have to go NOW?" There have also been comments about how people from "those countries" should adjust to French cultural norms. I find it interesting that I, the supposedly ignorant American, am the only one who knows anything about Islam or is able to accept someone of a different culture/religion.

Anyway, while I think there is probably more anti-American sentiment in France than in other countries I've visited, Jackline's opinions are hardly the norm here. Regardless, that was my second encounter with anti-Americanism abroad, and I'm sure there will be more to come. I do my best not to reinforce the stereotypes, and I think that Americans living and traveling abroad are already counteracting the belief that we don't care/know about other countries and cultures. As is always the case, though, the existing stereotypes are much stronger than the counter-examples.

On a somewhat related note, there seems to be more anti-Semitism in France than in the U.S. (perhaps I should say, than in some parts of the U.S.). For example, one of the other Rotary students here is Jewish, and, when he told his host family that he'd like to cook some kosher dishes for them during Jewish holidays, they acted very awkward and basically told him they'd prefer if he didn't. Also, when I was watching the news with my host mom the other night, I asked if the lady on TV was French. My host mom responded, "Alors...oui...elle est française, mais elle est juive" (Well...yes...she's French, but she's Jewish).

Weekend in Normandy

I know I haven't been great about posting, but I'll try to do better! I've had the opportunity to see a lot in the past couple weeks, so I've got a lot to write about! I'll start with my weekend in Normandy, which afforded me the opportunity to see two of the top things on my "Must-See-in-France" list: the D-Day beaches and Mont Saint-Michel.

First of all, another big thank you to the incredibly kind leader of the Davidson College program in Tours, who let two of my friends and me travel for free with their excursion in Normandy and Brittany! Traveling with them allowed us to see much more than we would have been able to otherwise!

Our first stop on Friday was Caen, a charming town and the capital of the Basse-Normandie reigon. We visited the Caen Memorial Center for History, with exhibitions on World War I, World War II, the Holocaust, and the Cold War, as well as a Nobel Peace Prize gallery. (The Nobel gallery, contrasting with the museum's focus on war history, is intended to remind of the possibility of peace.) Of course, the museum's few references to Africa caught my eye - namely a statement that France allowed the German government to build military facilities in Senegal at the beginning of World War II (what?!) and a discussion of African soldiers fighting for the French during the War. Another highlight was a large exhibit of the everyday life of soldiers during World War II. It really forced us to realize that they were just regular people, often around my age or even a few years younger, and to reflect on how incredibly difficult life was for them and the family and friends they left at home. Overall, it was an extremely informative and truly fascinating museum, though there was so much, we didn't have time to see the whole thing (and I don't think we would've had the energy to process more anyway). We spent the night in Caen and had the chance to explore the winding cobble-stone streets and, to my surprise and excitement, to discover three different stores full of imports from Africa - including a clearly Senegalese sous-verre painting of a car rapide!

On Saturday morning, we left Caen for Bayeux, a town in Normandy that is famous for having the world's oldest tapestry. While we didn't see the tapestry, we thoroughly enjoyed wandering through the town for a few hours. Bayeux was even more charming than Caen, and it hosts an enormous cathedral and has a salon de thé (tea shop) on almost every block!

Bayeux:

We left from Bayeux to visit the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial, which overlooks Omaha Beach, the site of one of D-Day's primary landings. After going through the very informative World War II museum, I walked around the American Military Cemetery, the final resting place of over 9,300 Americans who died during the D-Day landings and following operations. What struck me about the cemetery, other than its size, is that it really doesn't look like a cemetery. Its perfect, rigid rows of solid white crosses, every grave exactly the same (in place of crosses, Stars of David mark the graves of the handful of Jewish soldiers), make it easy to forget that you're standing in a graveyard. After spending some time in the cemetery, I headed down to the beach. The most eerie thing about the beach is that, today, it seems (and is) just like any other beach - when you're there, standing in the sun, taking pictures, talking with your friends, it's hard to believe what happened in that same spot 65 years ago.

American Military Cemetery:

Omaha Beach:

We also saw Point du Hoc, another important D-Day site. Point du Hoc is a clifftop overlooking the coast between Omaha Beach and Utah Beach (the other beach where Americans landed on D-Day). On D-Day, Allied soldiers scaled the side of the cliff at Point du Hoc and destroyed many of the German weapons positioned atop it. Today, some weapons and weapons storage spaces remain intact, and seeing them was really surreal. Even more striking, though, is that the entire area is covered in large craters from the attacks.

Craters and Cliffs at Point du Hoc:

German Weapon at Point du Hoc:

We spent Saturday night in Dinan, a third picturesque town, this time in the slightly-further-west region of Bretagne. We were able to explore a bit and see the town's chateau before leaving the following morning. Our last stop of the weekend was at Mont Saint-Michel, a tidal island in Normandy and one of France's best-known sites. To my surprise, Mont Saint-Michel is absolutely in the middle of nowhere, and, much to my disappointment, it is not actually an island on most days (I'm told it gets completely surrounded by water every couple months). Despite that, though, it was beautiful and extremely interesting! Built some 1,300 years ago, Mont Saint-Michel was a functioning abby for hundreds of years. Its importance had dwindled significantly by the time of the French Revolution, during which it was converted into a prison and held many high-profile political prisoners. The prison was closed in the 1863, and Mont Saint-Michel was declared a historic monument. Only in 1969 did monks return to the abby, although I'm not sure how peaceful it is for them these days, now that around 3 million tourists visit the site each year.

Mont Saint-Michel from a distance:

Welcome to Tours!

I've been in Tours for a little over a week now, and everything is going great so far! As promised, here are some basics on my scholarship, the city of Tours, and my life here...

My scholarship is from the Rotary Foundation, which, according to their website, has funded scholarships since 1947 and awarded them to about 38,000 people from 100 countries. Rotary offers several types of scholarships and opportunities for international travel, but I'm in France on a Cultural Ambassadorial Scholarship, which is for language and culture study. Rotary sends Cultural Ambassadorial Scholars all over the world to study a number of languages, and I applied to study French and requested to be placed in France (my other options being Belgium and Quebec). Scholars enroll in language courses, live with a local host family, perform community service work, give presentations to a variety of groups, and participate in Rotary functions. The scholarship covers all costs associated with transportation, tuition, room & board, and participation in various events. I am so grateful to the Rotary Foundation and to my clubs in Great Falls and Tours!

Place Plumereau in Tours:

Rotary places all of the Cultural Ambassadorial Scholars in France at a language institute called the Institut de Touraine in the city of Tours in central France. Tours is about an hour (by TGV) southwest of Paris, and the metropolitan area has around 305,000 people. It is situated conveniently in the Loire Valley, which is renowned for its world-famous castles and highly-prized wines. Among history buffs, Touraine (the region surrounding Tours) is known for the Battle of Tours, which took place in 732 and marked a major victory of Christian troops over Moorish Muslim forces. Though there is not a consensus among modern historians, it is widely believed that the Christian victory at Tours ended the spread of Islam in Western Europe. Tours was also France's national capital in the 1400s, and briefly served as the seat of the French government during the Franco-Prussian War (1870-71) and again for three days during World War II. And, inhabitants of Touraine are known for speaking the purest and most standard form of French - making it the perfect place to study!

The Institut is a wonderful school, and I feel extremely lucky to have the opportunity to study here. The professors are all phenomenally friendly people and extremely engaging teachers, and they make our twenty hours of class per week fly by! My language classes are divided into Written Comprehension, Written Expression, Oral Comprehension, Oral Expression, Grammar, Phonetics, and Vocabulary. I'm also taking Civilization (focusing on French social history) and International Relations (focusing on specialized vocabulary used in the field). A really interesting aspect of the school is its international character - there are students here from all over the world. Thus far, I've met people from all over the U.S., Canada, Mexico, Colombia, Brazil, Germany, Sweden, Holland, Ghana, Saudi Arabia, China, Japan, and Korea. Impressively, a lot of the non-Americans here speak perfect English as well, and are studying French as their third or even fourth language!

Jardin des Prebendes d'Oe in Tours:

My host family in Tours consists of an older woman, who lives alone but has children and grandchildren who visit often, and another Institut student. Saud, my housemate, is a 29-year-old from Saudi Arabia who is studying French with the hopes of attending medical school in France. His wife and their six-month-old son are currently living in Saudi Arabia and plan to move to France when he starts medical school, which will hopefully be this winter. Yesterday, he and all the other Saudi students studying in France had to take an assessment test for the Saudi Embassy to ensure that they are actually studying and learning French and not goofing off. I don't know what happens to people who don't pass it! Anyway, I have a nice room on the third floor of our apartment, my host mom is a good cook, and the 15-minute walk to school takes me through a lovely park, so I have no complaints!

Return to Senegal

As I mentioned in my first post, I had the chance to visit Senegal on my way to France! If you know me, you know that going back there and seeing my host family and friends again meant the world to me. I was in Senegal for two weeks, and I spent most of it staying with my host family in the Ouakam neighborhood of Dakar. I got to relive some of the things I've (in a strange way) missed, such as riding the car rapides (colorful decrepit "buses" that will take you all the way across the city for about $0.35), shopping in the open-air markets (which entails fending off pushy vendors/suitors and negotiating with those who try to charge the toubab price), and eating ceebujen (Senegal's national dish of rice and fish). I also visited my old school, met the new Elizabeth, and saw Serigne, Gamo, and Keba. I also went down to Joal (a town on the coast south of Dakar) for one night and then out to the village of Samba Dia to see my rural visits host family. I had so many experiences/thoughts/emotions, it's hard to know where to start, but here are a few highlights...

Teranga is alive and well! Teranga, the Senegalese notion of hospitality, is a point of pride among locals in Senegal. While there is definitely no shortage of people waiting to take advantage of the toubabs (the word for "white person" in most of West Africa), the average Senegalese person welcomes visitors with open arms and eagerly shares what little they have. During my study abroad program, we used to joke about the possibility of Survivor: Rural Senegal, in which students would be dropped off in the middle of nowhere and forced to rely on the hospitality of locals to survive - sounds ridiculous, but, trust me, people would help you and you'd survive! But, I digress. I was shown teranga everywhere I turned during my visit to Senegal... my host family paying $4 for a cab to meet me at the airport at 1:30 in the morning, giving me a bed and mosquito net while some family members went without, buying soda on my first and last nights there (something generally reserved for special occasions)... while waiting for somebody to meet me, being invited into the house of someone who was little more than a stranger and receiving a hot plate of ceebujen, bottled water, and the use of a fan and TV while I waited... showing up in a village without prior notice to look for a family that I spent five days with two years ago - and being welcomed into their home as though I'd never been gone... the gifts of fabric, clothes, and jewelry I received from people who have so, so little but share what they have... I could go on and on about the kindness and generosity I experienced and the small gestures that broke my heart, but I'll stop there.

La Fete de la Korité! As it turned out, I arrived in Senegal just a few days before the end of Ramadan (a 40-day fast in which observers abstain from eating, drinking, smoking, and having sex during the daytime). The end of the fast is marked by a celebration called Korité. (From my understanding, the end of Ramadan is a major holiday for all Muslims, though it goes by different names and is celebrated differently in other countries across Africa and the Middle East.) In Senegal, Korité typically goes something like this... Everybody prepares laax (a popular millet porridge in Senegal) for breakfast. In the morning, the men dress up in traditional boubous and go to the mosque, while the women stay at home cooking. In the early afternoon, the men go in groups around the neighborhood, visiting the homes of people they know, chatting, and often eating more laax. During these visits, they also ask forgiveness from people they know for anything they have done against them in the past year. The women stay at home, continuing to cook, and the Muslim women deliver gifts of laax to their Christian neighbors, so they can participate in the celebration. (On Easter, Catholic families bring laax to their Muslim neighbors.) When the laax is delivered, the sins are pardoned, and the visits are over, the men return home for the feast. In general, the meal on Korité consists of chicken, French fries, and onion sauce - chicken is too expensive for the average Senegalese (who generally eat fish or mutton), and most families splurge on it only for major celebrations. Following the meal, the women wash the dishes, then they put on their boubous and visit with their neighbors. And so you have the second-most important holiday in Senegal! (Korité is considered less important than Tabaski, which occurs 2 months and 10 days later and celebrates the sacrifice Abraham was willing to make.) To an observer, Korité provided a wonderful insight into several vital issues in Senegal, including gender roles, religious coexistence, and poverty.

Here are the toubabs in their boubous:

The Monument to the African Renaissance... In the spring of 2008, the Senegalese government started construction on this monument, which some people describe as Africa's Eiffel Tower. As you can see in the picture below, the bronze statue is the representation of a man, woman, and child. It's being built atop a 330-foot hill in my neighborhood of Ouakam and will be 160-feet tall when completed, making it taller than the Statute of Liberty. Amusingly, the Senegalese government brought in North Korean workers to help with construction, because of their expertise in working with bronze and building large monuments. (Everybody in Senegal thinks they're Chinese, though.) As you can probably imagine, the monument towers over Ouakam, where the tallest building is probably five stories. The Senegalese are furious about the monument, and rightfully so, in my opinion. Abdoulaye Wade, the country's widely-detested President, conceived the idea for the monument, and some say he designed it as a representation of himself, his wife, and their son. That in itself does not bode well with the Senegalese population. Further, because Islam prohibits representations of the human form, many locals feel the monument is contrary to their religion. Finally, the monument's total cost is about $27 million, and people are skeptical of government claims that it is entirely privately-funded. Regardless of where the money came from, though, it is absurd and frustrating to both locals and visitors that such an incredible sum is being spent on a statue, in a country where millions of people struggle with malnutrition, lack of sanitation, and diseases like malaria and polio. With this much upset over the monument, I predict somebody will vandalize it at some point.

The monument, in its current state of construction:

The village of Samba Dia! As I mentioned above, I went out to a rural area of Senegal to visit the family I stayed with while I was studying there in the fall of 2007. I didn't have a way of contacting them, so I figured I would take public transportation to the village, ask for directions to the poste de santé (the "clinic" where my host mom had worked), and hope that somebody there knew her and that the family was still in town. Everything worked out perfectly, with acts of teranga from everybody along the way. The family was beyond shocked to see me, and I stayed at their house for five days. In typical Senegalese fashion, they treated me like family and offered me the best of everything they had, even giving me nicer things than they buy for themselves. For example, each morning, I ate bread and coffee with my host sister for breakfast. I got an originally-packaged packet of powdered milk, while my sister got a much smaller, locally-wrapped baggie of it. On about the third day, I finally realized that she and I were the only ones eating bread, and that the rest of the family was having porridge, which is what poorer families generally eat at breakfast instead. So, the family provided me with better food than they buy for themselves, leaving me feeling grateful but guilty beyond belief. A similar thing happened after my first lunch with them. As I mentioned above, in Dakar, people sometimes have soda on special occasions; in Samba Dia, where people are poorer and can't afford the expense of $1.75 for a liter of soda to share, they buy soda for their visitors, but not for themselves. I almost cried. Anyway, I spent five great days living the village life of going to the well, carrying water on my head and babies on my back, bucket showering, helping to cook outside, resting under the trees in front of our house, and chatting with the family. Apart from a couple phone calls to the U.S. and brief chats with locals who wanted to practice their English, I spoke exclusively French and Wolof the entire time, which was challenging, but great practice!

Samba Dia:

Everyone thought this picture was hilarious:

I also got a bit of a shock during the trip. Turns out, my host mother in Samba Dia is the first of two wives to her husband. His other wife lives in a nearby village, and he splits his time between that village, Samba Dia, and the village where he works. It was summer vacation while I was visiting, and the second wife's children all spent a lot of time at our house. Polygamy is extremely common in Senegal (a man can legally have up to four wives), especially in rural areas, but my host mom there is the only woman I really know who is in a polygamous marriage. Though the concept no longer shocks me, I really can't imagine...

This post is way longer that I intended, so if you're still reading, thanks for sticking with me!

Bonjour et Bienvenue!

Bonjour! I'm Jennifer Ambrose, a Montana native and recent graduate of Claremont McKenna College, and I'm currently living in the lovely town of Tours, France. As you probably already know if you are reading this, I was fortunate to receive a scholarship from the Rotary Foundation this year, and I am currently serving as a Cultural Ambassadorial Scholar. I arrived in Tours last weekend, following a two-week visit to Senegal, the amazing West African country where I studied abroad for the 2007-08 school year.

Check back over the next few days for reflections on my visit to Senegal, an explanation of my scholarship and time in Tours, and my first impressions of France.

Merci et bonne journée!