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Tag: France

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By mekaylatucker

Bonjour à Tous!!

I cannot believe that this semester is coming to a close, it has been such an amazing experience and the people I have met through my volunteering have only amplified this. I have to say that since the beginning of this journey with Serve the City: Paris I always knew that it would be the place where I felt I could be the most help and this has proven to be true. I have been able to take on more responsibilities than I thought I would have been able to, like coming up with projects to help get food out to homeless people.  I have even been able to lead a group of volunteers giving out food.

I have really been able to speak French a good amount because of this opportunity. I really hope that my work at Serve the City: Paris is having a good impact on the local communities especially because each week we focus on a different neighborhood in Paris. I do know if the little things I do will have an impact but I hope I have at least made an impact with the organization. I am so grateful for this time! I have learned so much! This week will be my last week and I really hope that I take the skills I have learned this semesterrs and take it with me on my next endeavors

Mekayla

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By ltchouaffe

In my first post, the words I used to describe myself was Cameroonian-American. In my last post I came to terms with my Americanness. Today, I still stand by my identity as a Cameroonian- American but in a new light. Like I mentioned in my previous post, I came to France to discover a bit of my Francophone identity and I have but I have discovered that is not bad being American. I think for the great majority of my life, I have tried to put that identity second. Its funny because people of immigrant origin and their family sometimes try to blend in but I was always trying to stand out. Perhaps I was ashamed of being American? There was nothing unique or different about it?

But France has shown me, that I should never disregard that identity. Being American is the reason why I think the way I do or act the way I act. There have been so many instances where my actions have shown that I am American and you know what the funny thing was- I never had to think about it. It was all so natural in every single way. It became more apparent to me when I started being homesick and craving American food. What a concept!

I think I needed to come abroad to see where I was from from the outside in. The thing about identity is that it can be hard but you have to embrace all of it. You have accept it all because it shapes the way you act in the world and that is something that I can’t change. I am American and Cameroonian and there is nothing wrong with being either.

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Last week, I had the pleasure of hosting my parents and sister in Paris. Amongst the long list of tourist attractions and miles that we walked over eight short days, the most interesting of the bunch was certainly the reunion with my distant French relatives.

Family is an interesting concept to me because you can fiercely define it in so many different ways. Some people say that family is through blood, but then others feel closer to those with whom they are not biologically linked.

Over the course of my time in Paris, I have come to consider my host family as a true family in its own right: we may not share the same genetics or sometimes even the same language, but we care for one another and we feel comfortable. What more do you need?

Some say that my passion for the French language and culture is derived from my family history: my great-grandfather and namesake Maurice was French and a Parisian in the twentieth century. Not much is known about my family's connection to France, except that we have two living relatives in the heart of Paris. My parents arrival gave me the courage to finally reach out and to establish a relation with them.

...continue reading "La Famille"

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By Marissa Kirshenbaum

This weekend, I went on my last weekend trip, this time to Barcelona. It's hard to admit that this would be my last time jetting off to a new country for the weekend: my last time trying new foods, seeing different cultural sights, and hearing a language other than French spoken by the locals. I have enjoyed immensely this opportunity to travel beyond my limits, and live life fully in the moment, treating every day like a vacation.

For every trip that I went on, I was welcomed with different reactions from my peers. When I went to Italy, I was told that it would be beautifully sunny and photogenic. When I went to Morocco, I was told that I would have a significant cultural experience. When I went to Belgium, I was told to eat the fries, the chocolate, and the waffles. And when I went to Spain this weekend, I was told to watch out for my belongings because people would want to steal my phone and passport.

Before I set off for Paris, I had a lot of people warn me about how unsafe it is here. They put ideas in my mind that this beautiful and magical city was also violent and untrusting, that I would be lucky if I made it back without having something pickpocketed. I let these ideas fester in my mind, and for the first few weeks I jumped whenever somebody stood too close to me on the Metro or when somebody came on board asking in a loud and demanding voice for some spare change.

...continue reading "Warmth Over Worry"

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By ltchouaffe

People always say that you never know who you are or how you will act until you get yourself in a situation or environment that tests that. I truly think that goes the same for identity. You never know who you are until you go to a country that is different from yours in every single way. It is there that you will truly think about what makes up you and why you are the way you are.

In America, there is huge emphasis on diversity and knowing where your family comes from. One may be like me, whose parents came to America in the 90s and therefore directly knows and is impacted by their culture. And then you have those who are third and fourth generation American but still proudly call themselves Irish, for example. You may be American but you are a certain type of American.

In France, for the most part that is not true. Once you are French citizen, you are French. It doesn’t matter if your family has lived in France for six generations or just arrived ten years ago, If you have a French citizenship that is it and nothing more.

This idea in the American community has its pro and cons. For one thing, America prides itself in the plethora of cultures and identities that make up the fifty states. Afterall, at the end of the day no matter what one may say, the America that we know, is made up of immigrants from around the world who come to its shores for many reasons. Even in various communities such as schools, we celebrate cultural days. In my own personal community, the fact that I am Cameroonian-American has been something looked greatly upon and something that I should always be encouraged to embrace.

...continue reading "I am American too."

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By Marissa Kirshenbaum

My host father was a high-level government employee when he was in the workforce. His life is a political sphere: he has friends running for office, weekly outings to different departments in France, and exclusive access to some of the country's most elite gatherings. One of these get-togethers was last Tuesday. A spectacle featuring one of Paris' most beloved rappers and actors of the generation and crawling with celebrities and important political figures, the night was meant to capture the history of France through its different texts in the elaborate setting of the Assemblée Nationale. And I was lucky enough to attend.

My host father spends his free time guest lecturing at a "professional" high school down the street. This term is what we attempting Parisians like to call a "faux ami", because it translates directly to an English word yet means something totally different. In France, there are two different tracks you can take when you are in high school: the general track or the professional track. The general refers to all students who wish to attend college and pursue a career with an academic prerequisite. The professional, therefore, refers to "vocational learning", and tends to be comprised of the underprivileged student population. In France, you are sorted into these different paths early in your high school career, and from there, your life is laid out for you. Unforgiving to those who do not bode well with the school system during a certain point in time, it seems that in my opinion, the French tracking system is concrete and determinant.

My host father took his "professional" students to this event at the Assemblée Nationale last Tuesday, an impressive opportunity for them to see their representatives and legislation in person. However, these students did not seem to take much interest in the tour of the building, and seemed restless throughout the whole night. Their teacher told me personally that they don't have the desire to travel like I do during my study abroad experience, and that they rarely sign up for trips like this one if they are not required to.

...continue reading "Professionalism"

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Bonjour à Tous!!

Last time I wrote I talked about the fact that I would be switching positions from someone who gives out food to those in need, to someone who collects the food dropped off at Serve the City's building. This has been a bit of a challenge because I now have to take and understand directions in french (which are said very fast) as well as interact even more with the workers who do not speak any English! I was a bit nervous about this because I always doubt my French skills, and I was worried once they found that I was slower at communicating, they wouldn’t really interact with me. This is actually not the case at all! As everyone in the packing department has been very welcoming and even when I haven’t been able to exactly convey my thoughts they have been quick to meet me half way. It’s been great to understand why people decided to work with this organization and the highlights and struggles of the job. 

I suppose so far the accomplishments I am most proud of besides helping people in need, are the fact that I can definitely say I have been all around Paris and off the beating path! I’ve seen parts of Paris that I didn’t even think about going to before and I feel like that’s a major pro of volunteering in a new city. I am also proud of how far my french has come since volunteering here, a result of having to speak it on a daily basis. I still report to the volunteer supervisor so my responsibilities have not really changed but people know me now so I can kind of do my own thing.

I have been having an amazing time volunteering with Serve the City Paris, and it’s a bit hard for me to believe that in a little over a month I’ll be on a flight back home to the states! The people I have met, have already impacted my life in the best way and I hope the little work that I partake in has helped lessen the load that this amazing organization undertakes.

À Bientôt! MEKAYLA

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By Marissa Kirshenbaum

This weekend, I went to Normandy with my program. The sight of D-Day and the entire battle that liberated France from Germany, the region of Normandy in the north of France is integral to the nation's history in the context of the second World War, yet simultaneously important to France's relationship with the United States. Before coming to Paris, I knew that D-Day was important to history, but I did not know to what extent it was still referenced to and talked about in the modern day.

France is a country with a very long history. It has seen five different republics, countless kings and queens, emperors, and revolutions. Juxtaposed to France, the United States is like a young kid finding its way: so young that it is confused and progressive all at once with enough energy to keep its momentum going for a long time. The two countries are drastically different when it comes to their histories. However, the one true thing that they have in common is the Battle of Normandy. I have thought it so interesting for months how French people seamlessly make fun of Americans, yet at the same time almost strive to be just like them. On occasion, they poke fun with our accents and discredit our global knowledge, yet at the same time, they respect us. They sport our clothing brands, they watch our movies, and they dream of visiting our country. As a sweeping generalization, they seem to hate to love us. And why? In part, because of the Battle of Normandy.

Since my first week in Paris, I have heard of French people adoring Americans because "we saved them in the war." At first, I discounted this as a stretch of our history with the French. However, as the weeks passed and the confusion ensued, I realized that in fact, no matter what we as a country seem to do, French people continue to like us because of the sacrifices that we made for them during the war. As a country of tradition, it is not surprising that they share a long memory.

...continue reading "Thank you, U.S.A!"

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By Marissa Kirshenbaum

Life abroad is all about adjusting your mindset. You are in a weird place, knowing more than the tourist yet always less than the local. You look like you belong there, and people don't doubt it until you open your mouth, but you cannot associate with the vacationers. You are caught in between two different mindsets, and sometimes you can't even notice it until something interrupts the constant flow.

For me, this is what happened over Spring Break when my boyfriend came to visit. His French vocabulary comprised one word, "bonjour", and only recently grew to include "merci" and "s'il vous plaît": he is a raw American, a type that I have not interacted with that often since my time living in Paris. Over the course of the week, he brought things up to my attention that I had never noticed before about the city: he just saw things differently. He noticed the bilingual ads in the metro, the cafe seats facing the street, and the rapid weather changes. He compared the city to its American counterparts: New York, D.C., and Boston, using descriptions that I had never thought of before. Growing up learning about French culture through my nine years of language education, I had grown used to the differences that he noticed so blatantly. He allowed me to change my mindset around the city a little bit to an identity that is more familiar to me. For the first time, I saw Paris as an exploring American rather than an impersonating Parisian.

Perhaps the biggest mindset change happened when my host parents invited us over for dinner. Seeing as my boyfriend does not speak French and my host family does not speak English, I became the designated translator. Over the past month and a half, I have gotten so used to my way of living in my homestay. On the first day, I was so overwhelmed with the idea that I would not be able to speak at all in my native tongue to any of the members of the host family, but at this point it came as second nature. To have to change my mindset, my actual language and thought process when conversing with my boyfriend and with my host family was a strange yet eye-opening experience.

...continue reading "Switching Gears"

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By Marissa Kirshenbaum

At this stage in my abroad experience, I feel as though I can more properly compare the two cultures in which I have lived. I can more confidently say what I like and don't like, with enough life experience to back it up that it doesn't come across un-researched and unprofessional. Now, I feel confident to declare what things I dislike about French society without seeming petty, the things that I miss from back home. On the contrary, I I can also say what I love more about France. As a short list, I can confidently say that although my love for cheese was birthed in the U.S., French cheese has stolen my heart. I can say that popcorn at the movies in America is more suited to my tastes in comparison to the butter-less and salt-enhanced French popcorn. Besides matters of food, there is one aspect of French society that has me looking more to the East: the culture of striking.

La grève, the strike, the headache. Like the fact that winter is a constant rainfall in a sky of gray, the French do not advertise their culture of strikes. It was first presented to me in my "Business French" class when my professor joked about how to Parisians, protesting is like a sport. Whenever they feel passionate about a certain issue, they take it to the streets. You have to admire this action-based way of trying to make change happen. I am all too used to hearing strong-willed words from angry American citizens without seeing the mouths behind the statements. Strikes seemed like a proactive way to combat issues. They make a statement, and they sure are noisy.

However, what happens to the child who throws a fit every time that they don't get ice cream after a meal? They get ignored. As soon as the month of April hit, it was strike season, and the appeal wore off. Three days of work, two days of strikes. Like clockwork. Trains delay, flights are canceled, buses are stopped. Reform is all about progress, so why do we have to regress?

I believe in speaking your mind, and I am passionate about equal rights in the workforce. However, I feel as though la grève can inconvenience more than it aids its point. Is it not the lay public that you want to vote for your reform?

We, the people, want the metro.

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