How does one begin blogging about oneself in an online public forum? One can begin in a variety of trite, trivial introductions designed to catch the devoted blog reader's eye and sense of humor to ensure that he/she/zhe will devote unhealthy amounts of time obsessively reading one's online confessions. And like one in ten American adults, I'm baring my own soul on the most public, international forum possible, the internet. This summer, I am working as an intern through Wellesley College with the Center for Cross-Cultural Learning in Rabat, Morocco. It's the fulfillment of a dream and the apogee of three years of studying French, Arabic and Middle Eastern Studies. I can only strive to make it a full nine weeks of cultural exchange and learning.
As I hop the Mediterranean to go from Wellesley-in-Aix to Wellesley-in-Africa (all expenses paid) I think that it’s important to note exactly where I'm coming from. I am just wrapping up a long luxurious year spent studying French in sunny, snobby Aix-en-Provence, the crown jewel of France's Provençal region. Friday, I'll fly from Marseille to Casablanca to start my very first full-time internship at a Cultural center in Rabat, Morocco. My year abroad has been amazing, just barely short of perfection. Although I cannot claim to be fluent in French even after studying it for seven years, I can claim to have done amazing things in French such as scream for help locked in a Laundromat, enjoy the Sex and the City movie, and understand textos. But looking back on the year, there are some very important lessons I've learned about French culture, American culture, this global generation, and myself.
1. The French never smile.
And it follows that Americans smile far too often. This was a general observation that I was told to expect when I visited France for the first time in high school. I still find that it is true. But now I am so completely used to the lack of dental flash that my cheek muscles are out of practice. A French woman smiled at me today while I was shamefully stealing boxes from the recycling piles to use for packing. I nearly fainted in gratitude. If it had been an American woman, there is no telling what she was thinking when she smiled, "WTF is she doing?!" "What a fool," "Good idea," "Lol," "She's obviously homeless, poor thing," or "I need to buy some new silver sandals." But since this was France and I had not seen a smile on the streets in several weeks that I knew exactly what she was thinking: approval. A very rare gift to be given as a foreigner in public indeed.
I already know that I will be overwhelmed by people smiling constantly and sending complicated mixed messages in the US.
2. Sometimes disgusting food tastes delicious, especially in a salad.
Sometimes. I have really come to love raw egg yolk (which should be a good shock to anyone who knows my standards for hygiene and general aversion to animal products). In France, beef, burgers, crepes, toasted cheese sandwiches called Croque Madame, pasta, risottos, salad dressings—they're all better with raw egg yolk. It also toughens up the digestive system. Cheese in particular works on this same principle. French cheese is more delicious because they do not obsess about multiple flash pasteurizations or expiration dates. In fact, Camembert cheese has three stages of ageing even after you have bought it. It does not reach its peak until 18-35 days after leaving the grocery store. You can still consume it in its mature age, unsealed and opened, at 50 days. I doubt that I have ever seen an expiration date that long on cheese in the US. More disgusting things that I particularly enjoy in salads: goat cheese covered with ash and smoked duck meat.
One French delicacy that I cannot defend is foie gras or literally fat liver. From a goose. It is not hard to find or expensive in the US, it's just in the pet food isle, under a different name such as Fancy Feast or Kitty's Choice. I cannot find any reason to eat something with the texture, taste and smell of cat food on a daily basis.
Of course, defining what is disgusting and what is not often follows cultural lines. Almost to a person, the French believe that peanut butter is absolutely foul and has a disturbing texture. Especially if it's chunky.
3. Balsamic vinegar + olive oil + mustard + lemon juice = French café salad dressing.
Grâce à Mlle J. Rowe
4. The French love American culture although they will never admit to it.
Perhaps constantly inundated by American culture is a more correct way to describe the phenomenon of globalization. Yet I never heard anyone complain about the non-political aspects of American culture. In the clubs, 80% of the music is American from various decades. In the cinemas, even the independent ones that show foreign films, 80% of the movies are American and are simply dubbed. Even in the bookstores, I found a disturbing amount of cheap American bestsellers translated into French. Of course, I also spent most of my time in the two biggest American ex-patriot cities in France, Paris and Aix.
The French language is also full of Anglicisms like "site-web", brownie, cookie, le big love. They even conjugate the word stop. J'ai pas stoppé. Love it.
5. French men are lunatique
That is to say, moody. My experiences with the infamous French lover revolved around text messages and techno music in the Aix nightclub scene. Probably not the best way to find a long-lasting beau in any culture but I can solidly base my generalizations on multiple accounts from both French and American friends. The French man can go from happy/fun/charming/bold/intelligent/sarcastic/selfish/
childish/needy/depressed/pensive/pessimistic/stubborn/cold/distant/asshole in the course of an evening. He usually prefers to string along two or three girls at one time and if that isn't enough drama, then he will always cause more by himself. Really, it's like dating a girl.
My best example is one long night in which I briefly flirted with a friend, danced with him, found out that he was in the middle of breaking up with a girlfriend, and witnessed a screaming match in the middle of the street at 2 am. Half an hour later, he hit on me again. A few weeks later without having seen him at all, he text-messaged me to "break up" saying that he was back with the girlfriend and was going to erase my number. I think that was a hint for me to text him back. Due to a severe lack of cultural misunderstanding, I never responded.
6. French dogs/children obey the same rules.
They both are to be seen but not heard. The beauty is in the key phrase is Ca suffit, that's enough. It is simplicity, class, and versatility in discipline. On the whole, French dogs/children are much less spoiled and coddled than their American counterparts. Despite never using leashes, the French have trained their dogs/children to stay out of people's way. However, they are both still allowed to s**t on the streets. This is not nearly as unsanitary as one may think because a street cleaning truck comes by every night. Except for that one day when everyone noticed that there was either a dog with an upset stomach or just an epidemic.
Also good to note, especially for Americans: never approach a French person to compliment him or her on his or her dog/child. This is seen as overtly familiar and you will be greeted with suspect and disdain.
7. The French higher education system sucks.
I say that after having ripped out every single hair on my head during a particularly frustrating and demoralizing finals period so I will stop there. Suffice it to say that la Fac de lettres has a long arduous road ahead of herself if she ever wants to win back my respect.
Perhaps I should mention rather lamely, I did take a year to leave my own imperfect school to experience another system and after this year, I have definitely learned to appreciate Wellesley. I cannot say that this year it was waste. But that's all the Fac gets.
8. Alcohol=water.
This is a general European attitude, perhaps left over from the medieval ages when it was unsanitary to drink water. In the Czech Republic, law requires that restaurants must offer at least one non-alcoholic drink cheaper than beer. In France, a 75cl wine bottle is cheaper than fancier fruit juices such as Clementine or grapefruit juice. In Madrid, they literally give you (big groups of American study abroad students) free shots and beer just to enter the club before 11pm. A nice, French, five course meal will have more rounds of alcohol than courses. For lunch. We need to change our laws (and attitudes) in the US.
9. Traveling in Europe is unbelievably easy
Two friends and I visited 7 cities in 8 days. We encountered dozens of other students in the hostels that we stayed who were visiting more or less the same cities in a similar amount of time. And there are still cities that I want to see. I am constantly re-amazed every day how much there is to see and do in Europe.
Since I normally take a 3.5 hour long flight from home to college that costs around $120 on a "budget" airline, I am always thrilled to hear stories of cheap, cheap, cheap flights in Europe. With the advent of companies like Ryanair, SkyEurope, Easy Jet and Jet4You, it is possible to take one or two hour-long flights to random destinations at random times for dirt cheap. Some pretty normal examples that I actually found: round-trip Marseille to London for 70 euros on two different carriers. Lyon to Venice, 25 euros via Sky Europe. My personal best was Madrid to Casablanca for 11,99 euros. It gets better. Ryanair once offered a buy one get one sale except that the java script on the website had a flaw that allowed some friends to buy dozens of flights to Scandinavia for FREE. Always a beautiful word to American ears.
All the countries are so cute and tiny and close together that train travel is also an excellent option. It is sometimes still cheaper than budget airlines. I really came to appreciate traveling by train once I got used to the swaying of the cars.
During my travels, I also overstayed in hostels. Never again. Word of advice: budget hotels rock.
10. The French win for best slang words
American English has some excellent slang that I know and love but the French easily have us beat. Some new and/or classic American slang words that I particularly enjoying lately are biggity biz, shit-show, dude, ridic, def, hardcore, tots, sketchy, and creeper. However, the French have a slang word for everything you can possibly think of, some of which are borrowed from Arabic like the verb kiffe (to really, really like something). They even have an entire system for creating new slang words. If it's a really hot party, it isn't a fête, it's a teuf. If you got yourself a woman, she isn't your femme, she's your meuf. If it's really sketchy, it's not louche, it's chalou. Get it?
Also the French win for the most impossible text abbreviations. Why type out the conjunction que when you can just use ke? So much time saved.
And then there are the Anglicisms which are just so good. Imagine if you said, "it's like déjà vu all over again" to an English-speaking French person. It never fails to make me smile when I hear a Frenchman say business, challenge, success story, hardcore, or le Black.
They even have better filler words than um or like. Every other word is bahhhhhh, oaui, fin, je sais pas quoi, enfin, en fait, baaaaaoui, quoi.
Of course, I learned so many things both more profound and pyschologically accurate during my year. But they aren’t nearly as amusing :)
eed! 
