Well, obviously, she's American...

In my French class on Thursday we were reading one of Festival's (my French book) lovely dialogues, this one revolving around two roommates who went to lunch together, which gave way to a long debate: who pays? Yukiko and Chris were enjoying a lovely lunch for two and when it came time Chris was assigned the task of asking for the bill.

"But of course!" Exclaimed my classmates from Hong Kong and India. He is the man, he will pay. My professor, partly because she was ready for her vacation and not anxious to teach us more grammar and partly because she was curious, started an international debate, which was really just me verses the rest of my class. It ended with a Portuguese man in his late 40s saying that he believed in equality, which to him meant Chris paying, then
Yukiko paying, and then Yukiko preparing all subsequent meals at home. The immediate response of my professor was to turn to me "and Donna, what do you think of that?" I think he's a fucking moron, that's what I think of that. Of course I only know about two of those words, so I said something else, but that's what my tone said. This went on for no less than half an hour.

Then the next day, the Colombian girl who had been absent was confused by references to our discussion. She was upset by the mere supposition that the girl would pay. Aghast. Madame Gsell explained that in many places it was standard for the man to pay, but that Donna had not agreed. To which she responded "But of course! She's American!"

As if this explained everything. As if all my peculiarities and preferences were explained by one adjective. Maybe not so much explained as excused by. I could be forgiven my stupidity, for what else was I supposed to think growing up in that hotbed of needless liberalism? I responded with a laugh, as that's what the rest of the class did, and proudly proclaimed "Oui, Oui! Je suis américaine. Je suis féministe. Je suis libéral." My bubbling fury and confusion got the better of my articles.

It was such a strange moment, but not at all uncommon. Catching up with a friend a few weeks ago he commented on an earlier post about the professional/private distinction in the French personality saying that he found it to be true in the U.S. as well. He found my observations reductive. I was stereotyping. And I was. He was 100% right. Because when you're exposed to so much new at once, your response is to divide and condense it in to more easily digestable packets. It's exhausting to sincerely consider each individual and each action as a unique entity. Imagine trying to explain all of the behaviors of just one person for a day. An hour. Why was the cashier nice to her and mean to me? Because she spoke French? Because I look like a mean Nanny he had when he was little? Because in between ringing us up he remembered that he forgot to feed his goldfish this morning and his mind went elsewhere? It's impossible to say. And exhausting to try. Which doesn't mean that we shouldn't, it just means that it might be unreasonable to do it 24/7.

I'm not a scientist, but from personal experience I think that it's the way of the human brain to observe, find patterns, make rules, and behave accordingly. It definitely works in our favor when we're doing things like learning object permanance of learning to walk. But, when we're learning about the big things, the things that put the mechanics to use, like new cultures for example, maybe it does more harm than good. Because it's nice that my classmate could find such an airtight explanation for my opinion, but really, what did she get from it? Besides proof for a generalization that wasn't really true?

So is that what I've been doing? Reducing the French to their simplest terms? Their most convenient definitions? Ignoring the details for the illusion of understanding? Well...yes. Obviously. I'm human. What do you want from me? BUT, maybe it's an important first step. How could an alien new to our planet understand what a lion is without understanding what animals are? Well the lion could attack him, that would help him out. But then he's only getting one aspect, and I think that's what experiencing France is like as a foreigner in Paris. I'm being attacked by a lion. I don't understand the language that well. I look different. I smile. So I only get one side of the lion. I don't see the lions hunting or playing or sleeping, only attacking me. But maybe as I change, as I learn French and adjust and become less strange, I will have the benefit of seeing their other habits.