Pardon Moi, Je Suis Américain

I may have said this before, but up to this point in my time here abroad, I have found no one who has been especially rude to me because I'm American. For the Brits, it's easy to tell an American from everyone else based on gesticulation, vocabulary, idioms, and of course accents. My whole approach is to be very humble, lots of pleases and thank you's, and just trying to think in my mind how I would want someone from another country to address me in America. It's really simple, actually. Removing the cultural ego goes a long way and, unlike some people in this house whose ethnocentrism gets in the way of their interactions with others, I have been treated well in return. Hopefully I've earned America some credit here too, albeit the dent one poor soul can make is depressingly small. I have always been proud of my country, and I will support America through thick and thin and against the verbal lashings of any foreign soul, but luckily it hasn't come to that. Maybe it means, at least from my experience, Americans aren't as reviled as everyone dramatizes our place in the world. But of course, all this was before I went to France this past weekend.
One of the places I was determined to visit this semester was the French Riviera. I know, I know. It's cold. It's off-season. The French are meanies. Blah blah blah. Well, cover your ears now, Francophobes... I just so happen to be part French myself. Half French-Canadian to be exact, so forgive me if I don't harbor the same animosity as many in my country. Instead, I've always heard good things about the Riviera and in-season or not, it just seemed like a cool place to be. Couple that with a good deal on a flight and hostel and the trip was booked along with a group of others from this house and Pepperdine's Lausanne program. So did I meet the furious anti-Americanism that I feared heading into one of America's cultural rival? No. But then again, I tried.
You see, I took six years of French in middle school and high school. Don't get me wrong, I'm terribly rotten at the language and I never excelled in the subject, but I have a basic comprehension of what to say and when to say it. Certain phrases aren't terribly difficult and a few members of our group latched onto them like a life-preserver, usually with moderate levels of success. At least the French weren't rude to them. Others decided that since most French speak some English, they wouldn't bother trying out a new language or at least making an effort. And it's true, many of the French did in fact speak English, some quite well. But the English-only crowd came away upset about the rudeness of the French towards them and irritated over the cultural divide. Gee, I wonder why.
Now I'm not saying it's easy. It was for me, but only because I have a certain background in the language. When I go to Greece and possibly Italy next month, I'll be just as lost as everyone else. But I can assure you at the very least I'll make an effort, since I'm convinced thats all the French wanted to see. No one expects an English-speaker to be fluent in their language, especially an American, but as the saying goes, it's the thought that counts. Perhaps that's why I came away amazed by my experience in Nice, Monaco, Cannes, and the small beach-side villages of Juan-les-Pins and Villefranche. I'm not going to lie, it was an incredible time and I'd love to go back when it's actually warm and in-season (and yes, crowded with other tourists).
Some of the scenes of the Riviera, especially in Villefranche looked like they were right out of an impressionist painting. I wish I were a rich man who could afford to have a cottage there to use as a respite from the rest of the world.... Actually, I wish I had a mansion there and access to the Casino in Monte-Carlo. But regardless, I had a tremendous time and I owe it all to making an extra effort. It's funny, while we were in Nice, Carnaval was going on all weekend and one of the main attractions was a night time parade on Saturday. You know the kind, floats, music, little kids with silly string stalking through the crowds like silent assassins. Well one of the floats was an aggrandized scene entitled "American Tourists" that showed an overweight, sun-burned American couple armed with a camera and map and screaming of obnoxious attitudes. They probably are the kind that ask for Freedom Fries in a fine French restaurant. Or worse, go to McDonald's there instead of the insane amounts of cheap beach side cafes right next door (No, I am not contradicting my post below entitled Eat Fresh. I am a struggling American student staying for a prolonged period of time in the UK. When I put my tourist hat on, I dive right in to the local cuisine). And while stereotypes like that are fundamentally flawed and insulting to the majority of Americans who aren't like that, it's pretty obvious that a parade float ridiculing a certain group of people would be ample evidence of why NOT TO BE LIKE THAT.
In any event, after Nice it was right back into the fire of school work here in London. It's crunch time for a bunch of classes that end before we relocate for a month to Greece so there's a ton of work due during this time. I kinda wish I didn't book my trip to Paris for this weekend but it's too late now. I think the compromise I reached was brining my laptop to Paris to tackle work while over there. If anything, I can be like those cool, hip people that bring their laptops to internet cafes and write inspirational stuff... or check Facebook. Either way it should be fun and I'm looking forward to it. And lucky for me, I got my practice run in French last weekend. Paris is a different game, as I'm relatively sure they can get brutal there. Oh well, at least I know one phrase to excuse my ignorance...