Annoying Americans, Volume 1 – Blending In

There’s a strange phenomenon that occurs after living in France even for a very short time.  It’s a little odd, but it does happen.

It doesn’t take very long, but eventually, you can forget how to speak English.

Now, don’t get the wrong idea.  Maybe what you’re thinking is, “Wow…being immersed in the French language can actually push English right out of your brain?”

Of course that isn’t what I mean.  Don’t be asinine.  Besides, what kind of dolt forgets their native language like that?

Here’s an example:

One not so very interesting day, I decided to take my camera & go for a stroll through the Montmartre Cemetery.  I’m all alone & searching for the grave of Degas.  I’m having no luck, so I head back to entrance so that I can take a gander at the map.

That’s when I saw them.  The four of them were wearing matching T-shirts that read “Paris”, all spelled out in glitter.  They were wearing their matching backpacks, with an image of the Eiffel Tower drawn in sequins.  Little Eiffel Tower key chains clanged & dangled from their fanny packs.  They moved as one, like a noisy, rolling blob, flapping their maps & baseball caps.

Tourists.

One of the things that I enjoy about cemeteries is the serenity – no one there speaks.  Dead people are the best company as far as I’m concerned.  Then they showed up.

I continued staring at the map, hoping that they wouldn’t notice me, confident that I could make myself invisible if I just applied myself.

“Excuse me…do you speak English?”

That’s when it happened.  I’d forgotten how to speak English.  I shook my head, gave my best bitchy grin & turned around, on my way to visit Degas.

Ok.  I’m lying.  I’ve never forgotten how to speak English.  The thing is, when I see these sparkling, rolling blobs, I just can’t talk to them.  I mean, there are tourists…& then there are tourists.

I’ve been known to be friendly to the tourists on rare occasions.  Maybe one of them will approach me like a normal person, asking me to take their picture or something.

What’s the difference?

Well, I’ll tell you – one of these is obnoxious & ridiculous.  The other is just a regular person enjoying the sights & culture of another country.  Big difference.  I mean, would it kill people to tone it down?

Now, to be fair, I’ve read plenty of bullshit on the internet advising American tourists & expats that they shouldn’t wear sneakers, jeans or casual wear in general at all in France – especially in Paris – nor should they wear any American brand-name clothing or even certain colors.  This is just fucking retarded.

You know what I usually wear in Paris?  Jeans & sneakers.  Oh…& my jeans are Levi’s, which as we all know, are American.  See the above photo?  That’s me, in Paris wearing American jeans.  I blend in well enough that French people often approach me to ask for directions. A lot of this type of information comes from so-called “travel experts” & snobby American expats.  They can all suck it.

On the other hand, those herds of people that are bumping into one another wearing the black socks & Birkenstocks are another matter.  They get off of the tourist bus wearing a brand new T-shirt that they’ve just purchased at an over-priced tourist shop & have got it tucked in nice & tight into those cargo shorts that they outgrew last year.  There’s a map sticking out of their back pocket & a faded bumper sticker on their suitcase that reads, “Reagan-Bush ’84”.

These are the ones that are likely to become mugging victims somewhere in the métro.

These are the ones that are likely to be heard bitching once they return to the states, whining about the “rude French”.

Now, I’m not telling anyone what to wear – far from it.  I’m not a fashion plate & don’t really put much importance on attire outside of comfort & covering a naked body, especially in the cold.

But, the plain truth is, walking around looking & acting like the goddamn Griswolds might not provide the same European experience as, say…blending in enough to sink into the culture a little bit.

You might learn more & have a better experience, as opposed to being so obnoxious that even your fellow Americans will pretend as though they can’t speak English, just so that they don’t have to deal with you.

Or maybe your own people will mess with you even worse than those “rude French”.

Here’s 2 minutes & 42 seconds of exactly what I mean:

[tags]tourists, Americans, French, France, obnoxious, Annoying, Griswolds, Montmartre, cemetery, expats, travel[/tags]