Is it October already? Oh how the time flies when you’re in Europe. I think I am getting to the point where it will be odd when I get back to the States, that is to say that I am basically completely accustomed to the French way of life, for better or worse. But, at the same time, I am starting to realize that the United States truly dominates many parts of French culture. Allow me to explain.
Obviously the most overwhelming dominance is in the realm of pop culture. Beginning the first night I arrived and continuing about twice a week, my host family has offered us the chance to watch a movie on their ridiculous home theater system. Unfailingly, most of the choices have been American movies, including last night where Letters from Iwo Jima was a close winner over Punch Drunk Love (similarly, Punch Drunk Love won a pretty big award at the Cannes Film Festival? An Adam Sandler movie winning an award? Really?). The choices have spanned from the 1970s to 2008, but the enormous movie library in our house is well over 50% American movies dubbed in French. Music is another area of American preponderance, although this is not even in French, something I cannot understand. For example, they love the Black Eyed Peas here, similar to America, but how do they have any clue what they are listening to? I guess the solution to that is just dance the night away, and everything will be fine. Finally, we do not have a TV in my house, yes a bit of a problem, but I did finally get my eyes on one the other day, and guess what was on? Friends, dubbed in French. Although, to be fair, the next show on was DragonBall Z, so I think more than anything Frenchies are just lost when it comes to TV.
Clothing is another facet of French culture that is marked by a heavy presence of Americana, yet I cannot understand why. I think I first noticed it this weekend with Brian when we walked by a French store that was selling (for about 20 Euros) a shirt that boldly displayed “South Dakota district team” (or something like that). Now, we came to the conclusion that if you were actually from South Dakota, I’m not sure that you would proudly wear a shirt like that around the streets of Lyon, as you might try to be a little more subtle about your hometown. Other French favorites are flat brimmed baseball hats of random American teams, most notably the Yankees, Dodgers, and Pittsburgh Pirates; these people are unmistakably “cool.” One combo of particular interest to me was a Boston Red Sox hat coupled with an I heart NY shirt (also very popular), which may seem to be of divided baseball loyalties back in the States, but in France, it was clear that this person supports Team America. Final clothing issue of note was that a popular item here is a Franklin & Marshall sweatshirt, which, the first time I saw it, I immediately thought of the small school in Western PA. However, after seeing hundreds of these just in Lyon, and finding the smoking gun of a store sporting it in their window, I realized that this apparently has very little to do with the university, and instead is a popular clothing brand. Still, you have to wonder…
The list goes on. Hotels often sport American flags on their awnings to prove that they are American/tourist/dollar friendly. When you want to be really cool with graffiti, you write it in English. Restaurants will advertise “American” dishes, and sometimes attempt to cleverly name them after states, even if they fail, as in the case of one attempting to label a certain crepe the “Wyoning.” While the UN conference was happening last week, one TV station was advertising that they would show Obama’s speech live, while another French newspaper was mocking Sarkozy for not accepting the fact that France is simply a “middle” nation in terms of importance. Similarly, when my host mother discovered my love for Obama, she immediately raised her respect for me to a new level.
I guess these have all been building on me for a little while, and I had to get them out there, so I apologize for the rant. This all started in class today when someone uncovered the fact that I was American, and was very excited to tell me that she had been to America last year. When I asked her where, she said Texas, Houston to be exact. I responded sarcastically with “Oh, I’m sorry” (loosely translated), and told her that I was not a huge fan of Texas. She seemed crushed. I guess I need to work on my French humor.
I promise to soon enough highlight the differences in French culture that are superior to their American counterparts, as there are plenty. But I’m headed out on a mini-trip this weekend (details to follow), and I went to borrow a movie from the aforementioned video library, and what did fantastic French film did I come up with? Supermal, or translated back to English, Superbad. Oh the French.
(Side note – finally figured out how to set up email subscriptions, so if you want these wonderful works emailed to you each time they are posted, fill in your email address in the box on the right side)
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