Life in Those United States

Early in my host family experience, my host brother asked me, “What are some stereotypes of the French in the U.S?” When I smiled and asked, “What kind of stereotypes?” my host family roared with laughter. They assumed there were quite a few. I eventually came up with, “That the French don’t like Americans.”

True, France and the US have had a love-hate relationship. However, white-flag jokes aside, we can’t forget that it was the French who backed us up in our war for Independence. And who gave us Lady Liberty who now stands welcoming newcomers in New York Harbor?



Yesterday, I went a tour of a D-day museum, the American cemetery, and several D-Day beach embankment sites. It’s hard to put into words my reflections. Now, the beaches, bunkers, etc – covered over with clean sand, bright shore grass, and signs explaining the area – are of course different than what they looked like during the summer of 1944. I like to think that’s how the soldiers would like to see it: A place that has re-grown literally and figuratively, but still stands as a place of reflection for future generations. My fear is this: That mankind will (and does currently, in many parts of the world), repeat these transgressions against humanity.



War is like putting a painting over a crack in the wall. It does its job in the short term, but the crack will grow, becoming worse, forcing us to go back and fix it again. However, what usually happens next is that we then put wallpaper over the crack. Why don’t we redo the plaster or hang new drywall? Because that’s even more time-consuming and expensive. Its harder to see the solution as quickly as we do with the painting or wallpaper. But guess what: if we take these more expensive, time-consuming measures, we’ll solve the problem at its core. There will be no more crack.



What’s potentially the craziest thing, is that I truly think we ARE able, slowly, to address the problem with plaster, if we gather behind that cause. Eventually, education and understanding CAN win out. Take this fact given from Greg Mortensen, CEO of the Central Asia Institute (ikat.org) and author of Three Cups of Tea: “We spend 44 billion dollars a year in Afghanistan. We’re only putting 100 million dollars directly into education [in Afghanistan]. I think there should definitely be a change of priority.” When discussing the schools he has built in Afghanistan and Pakistan, he explained why they teach in the native language and Arabic: “They teach Arabic so that the students can read the Koran, and know that it never says that girls can’t go to school.” I think these grassroots movements in education will move more mountains than any current initiatives.



But I digress a bit from the topic of this blog.

Despite all the photos I’ve seen of the American cemetery, I wasn’t quite prepared for its effect. I told Julie, a fellow IU Hoosier and my travel companion for the day, that - at first - it seemed as if all those rows of crosses (more than 9,000) were symbolic for men who served or lives lost. We had to remind ourselves that each cross was the gravestone for an American man lost in Normandy. Half an hour up the road was the British cemetery with 4,000 gravestones. Harrowing.



The flags I saw at the museums, American, British, Canadian, French, Czechoslovakian, Belgian, Norwegian, etc, shows that we were not the only troops in Normandy. But the pairing of just the US and French flags at the last stop of the day, the Normandy Pointe du Hoc Ranger Memorial, made me think a bit more about our two nations.

The chapel in the American cemetery has a mosaic of reciprocity between France and the US: France is giving freedom and support to the US from British oppression; and, in return, the US is giving support to France during WWII. It made me think more about the modern-day relation between France and US. Policy aside (although check out this article: http://business.maktoob.com/20090000453742/Sarkozy_Obama_hold_White_House_talks_/Article.htm), I find that the French are more accepting and welcoming to Americans than many would think. Usually it’s a personal encounter – ie. an American rudely demanding something in English in a brasserie (this happens more than you think!) – that causes a bit of bitter prejudice.



An addition, Americanism is spreading to some extent. And the French, like many countries, aren’t loving it. For one, they fear their language being lost. They have a group, nicknamed “Les Inmortals,” whose job it is to meet in Paris once a week and discuss the French language; and to protect it from “Englishization.” They successfully beat out “le computer” with “l’ordinateur”; however, “weekend” won out. The French dislike (as do I) the attitude of “Bigger (and more) is better,” which is a completely realistic portrayal of the US. Alas, they also see the US as only Las Vegas and Los Angeles/Hollywood. In fact, many of my peers here, when I ask if they’ve been to the US, will often tell me, “No, but I really want to go to Las Vegas and maybe California.”

That being said, don’t get me wrong. After being lucky to travel quite a bit, I know how blessed I am to be from the United States. Very, very blessed. Alors...

J’adore la France, but I’m proud to be an American.