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: