In France, and I suppose most of Europe, there is really no subject that is taboo, particularly when you are from another country, and are thus regarded as something of a specimen. I think this is especially true here because most Europeans regard the US as this country where everything is kind of... perfect. Even the ones that don’t like the US are courteous enough to see that, if one is American, there is not that much reason to leave the country, because, I mean, what is missing? So as an American who has decided to live in another country (France, at that!) they are curious as to what motivates that decision. It’s not that they have no value for their own country, they just want to see the appeal through a foreigner’s eyes.
Because of that, I am often asked very forthright questions. I have been told in French culture classes and study abroad orientation groups and whatever that you never never ask a French person what they do for a living– it’s a complete faux pas, and, for some reason, is considered a very personal question. So I have these rules of thumb like that, and then my own American set of standards (don’t ask about politics or religion), and these combine to take away all the useful words and small talk questions I have. I’ve gotten better now, but on my arrival here, whenever I met new adults, I was completely at a loss– what do you say to them?
But among the first questions I have been asked by almost everyone I meet is "What do your parents do?" and more often, "What does your father do?" because to them, if you have any class at all, your mother probably does not work, but is at home with the maid, hanging out and... doing whatever it is French women do with the maid all day. Luckily, since my dad is a doctor, and my mom works at a bank, I get an easy answer. My friend’s dad has one of those job titles that doesn’t, like, mean anything and she is always having to just say, "he works with money."
One night at dinner, Madame asked me, out of nowhere, after I had been living here for a couple months, "And Blair, what religion do you follow?" I nearly choked on my quiche, less because I thought it was awkward and more because in the US, one would never ask that, even to someone my age. "Moi? Je suis protestante." "Ahh, une vraie americaine, n’est-ce pas?"
"I’m protestant."
"Oh, you are a true American, aren’t you?"
These kinds of conversations are awesome, because despite the fact that I am only 21, I am still regarded as somewhat of a child, due to my language skills that make me sound as such and the fact that the French don’t really grow up at the same rate that Americans do. But because I am regarded that way, I can get away with bouncing the questions back and learn more about these people. "So what about you, then, what do you do?" and "What religion do you follow?"
(The religion question got sticky this week when Madame asked the new girl in the apartment. Her mom is Catholic, her dad is atheist, and she is something along the lines of agnostic... but how in the world can you tell that to a good Catholic French woman in your second language without all kinds of misunderstandings? Because here there is no good reason why you would not want to follow a religion.) I, however, have no problem with questions like these– in general, it is hard to offend the French when you have done the trouble of learning their language and moving here. So even when I say something ridiculous, they just kind of nod their head, probably thinking something along the lines of "those crazy Americans... how have they ever become a world superpower with children like this?" That said, it’s not just ex-pats they are open with... though they don’t generally ask each other such personal questions, they will discuss just about any political issue, quite rationally, and you must go no further than the wall outside my university (or any street lamp in the Quartier Latin) to find fliers protesting just about anything the government has decided to do. And the government does a lot here. So from religion and voting to the war in Iraq and the suburban riots last year and the spread of AIDS, nothing is really taboo with them the way it is for Americans.

Incidentally, France has one of the highest AIDS rates in Western Europe, which doesn't imply that much since it is also the largest country on the European continent, except for Russia, which obviously doesn't count. I think it might have been the highest, at one point, but now falls behind Portugal, Italy, and Germany, as well as SIGNIFICANTLY behind Luxembourg and Belgium. However, the government has taken a huge step in public awareness in the last few months, and I've been stopped over and over by young people in red SIDA jackets (the French acronym for AIDS-- syndrome d'immunodeficiency auto...something). They are always young, always friendly and not pushy the way a lot of people are in France when trying to stop you for something. The first time I told them I was in a hurry and couldn't stop (which was true). The second time I told them I didn't speak French (with respect to this subject, relatively true-- my technical vocabulary is hugely lacking with regard to health things). The third time I figured out who they were and stopped and talked to a guy for a little bit, and they just give information and chat with you a little bit-- they also only stop young people, which I guess makes sense based on the demographic most likely to be affected (something like 95% of European cases are detected in people under 30). But I think it's amazing that the French are so open about things like this that we as Americans keep so tightly under wraps-- since I've spent the last two years living on a college campus in the US, it is kind of second nature to me now; there are constantly panels, discussions, free handouts, vigils, and events to fight AIDS and the prejudices that go along with it, but in the American society as a whole, no one ever speaks about it. Mention of the AIDS epidemic and virus are, in France, as common as mention of the breast cancer walk in the US. It's just culturally different, I guess, but I think it's impressive that the French are not intimidated by the concept and thus can do so much more to fight it than we can, since we seem to always be caught in a politically correct contest to see who can be more polite about it.

Speaking of cultural differences... Cindy Sheehan is here this week. Brought to you by "Americans In Paris Against The War," which seems an unbelievably redundant group title as well as a completely gratuitous statement of belief. Because for one thing, if you are American and living full-time in France, I can pretty much guarantee you aren’t a republican, and thus that it is a pretty sure bet you are against the war. And furthermore, everyone who lives in France is against the war (though it’s beginning to seem everyone everywhere is... but that could just be my skewed I’ve-been-in-Europe-too-long-to-remember-real-life mentality talking), so why bother starting a group if you are already in the majority, and not just the majority, but the only? It’s like starting an "Americans who live in America" group... or "People In Favor Of Breathing" or "People Who Wish They Lived In Paris." You can’t start a group like that, because then everyone in the world falls into the category. You have to have some qualifications, man... like, I don’t know, frilly toothpicks or something, to weed out at least 50% of the people-- if a club is over half the population of any given populace, it's not a club, it's a majority, and then you don't have to have a club because you are the ones making all the rules anyway.
Good heavens, I've turned into Steven Colbert.
Next thing you know, I'll be making a dead-to-me list...
And Nate is gonna be number one. :)
~B