But while there is a definite sense of determination in the air, an undeniable atmosphere of passion, you also get the sense that this is quite normal for them. Nobody looks like they're having the same adrenaline rush I had when I marched in front of the Capital to protest the war in Iraq. But maybe that's just an outsider's perspective- who's to say? If there could possibly be such a thing as a "calm" protest, this would be it. Two mom's strolling their babies side-by-side and appearing to be talking about the weather. Little kids meandering on the sides with a treat from the bakery in hand- not looking scared, or fascinated, or excited- as I imagine my little siblings would if there were to suddenly be a protest in the streets of our neighborhood (the only thing I can imagine Castle Pines North residents protesting is the demolition of Starbucks).
One can say all they want about the French lacking ambition, but it's a hard point to sell when you see how consistently they get off their butts and voice their discontent with a current policy.
People here might not work as much- (I do in fact, feel that most work too little)- but, in my view, their lack of enslavement to the rat race is just what allows them to be so politically aware, to follow what the government is doing and to stop it before it's too late. Protesting seems to have gone out of style in America, though complaining sure hasn't. Even if you think that the complaints of the French are petty (and at times they can seem so- do they really need to retire at 50?) you have to admire them for having the gumption, and courage, to actually do something about it.
All that said, it the truth of the matter is that the French economy isn't doing so hot and that seems to be a reality people here aren't willing to face. If retiring with a full pension at 50 seems too good to be true, it's because it probably is. While I feel that that negotiations with the people are in order, I doubt very strongly that the government can realistically give the French all that they're asking for without wreaking more havoc on the economy. The economy seems to be to France what the environment is to America: an issue whose existence people tend to ignore, or deny because it doesn't effect their generation directly.
They seem to at least have the maturity of thought to protest the issues and not the man-in-charge- aka, Sarkozy. Rather than throwing all the blame on the President- as we tend to do- these protests recognize that it's the government rather than just one man who is behind all these changes and that therefore, the government is who they should be targeting. Unlike the protest I attended in the U.S. , there weren't any inflatable devil-Sarkozys or even, as I saw anti-sarko signs. But that could also have something to do with the fact that it's so early in his term and they know that- complain or not- he's going to be around awhile.
Oh, and despite my strong belief in affordable education, I can't help but roll my eyes a little at the rampant fear that college costs might rise from a whopping...200 euros a year! That's how much I spend on BOOKS alone in the U.S.
On a semi-related note, I feel that I'm already developing somewhat of a city-dweller edge. I was just shopping at the mall yesterday when I realized how hostile my thoughts were- toward the shopkeepers and the other patrons. Just as though I was ready for someone to reprimand me, for one of those suspicious-eyed guards to accuse me of trying to shoplift. What is with having a security guard in a damn parfumerie, huh? Especially one that stares so relentlessly at you that you start to feel you actually are a thief. I'M JUST TRYING TO BUY A DAMN CONCEALER STICK! And in the midst of all this tension, this inner-grumbling, I began to understand why everyone here is a bit chilly-mannered, a bit sour-faced. They've lived in the city's combative atmosphere for years. I'm just hoping that I can somehow avoid coming back to America a jaded and bitter person, who, while having gained a fashion sense, has lost a good portion of her humanity. I hope that I can retain some of the good things city-life has given me- boldness, assertiveness, je m'en fous-ness, and lose the edginess, which would come off as especially absurd and arrogant in the oh-so-congenial Chapel Hill (which in retrospect, seems unfathomably friendly).
Oh, but they're not all bad-- for my Dad at least- who came to visit this weekend. We were stopped on the sidewalk walking back to my apartment by a lady, who, seeing that we had suitcases, said (in english) "where are you from? welcome to our city!" I am still bitter about never getting such a warm welcome. But I wanted to Lyon to make a good impression on my Dad, which I think it for the most part did, despite the multiple instances of things working according to French "logic." I told him about my grammar teacher Madame Meunier's favorite saying: "C'est pas logique!" (for when you get an answer wrong) and it became the catch phrase of his visit. You have to use use a SECRET CODE for the elevator in one building at your hotel but not another? C'est pas logique! The women at the Salon de The continue to serve the customers at the counter while you wait to order your coffee? C'est pas logique! The grocery stores close down at lunch, just when you need food the most? C'est pas logique!
C'est la France. C'est pas logique.
It was a weekend of un-thinkable luxuries- taxis, and three course meals, hot wine bought from street vendors and spontaneous chocolat chaudes in cafes. Moreover, I now have high speed internet and a cabinet bursting with groceries. SWEET HEAVEN! That's not to say we didn't
suffer a little- it was brutally, bitterly cold. Nevertheless, we did a respectable amount of sight-seeing- The presqu'ile and Vieux Lyon, taking the funicular up to Basilique Notre Dame de Fourviere- which I discovered is much more splendid when you're not dizzy and dehydrated from walking all the way up to it. We also saw the ancient gallo-roman ruins and the amphitheater (built in 15BC) which was spectacular and just really surreal. Despite the cold, we were lucky enough to have lots of sunshine so it worked out alright. Our original plan was to go to the Parc de la Tete d'Or afterwards, but once we sat down and had a coffee, the extent of our tiredness sank in and we concluded we were more up for a film. So we walked all the way to the Pathe at Bellecour to see if there were any American/British films playing with just French subtitles. Unfortunately, there weren't, so we just had our own cinema experience watching clips of the Colbert report on Comedy Central in my apartment for the next hour or so.
On Saturday we had a traditional French dinner, but on Sunday we opted for a Thai restaurant in Vieux Lyon. We were the only customers there, but instead of that being awkward it was actually very relaxed and pleasant. The food was great too. I couldn't help but giggle- however, when the owners popped in a soundtrack upon our arrival that began with a pan-flute version of "The Sound of Silence"- a soundtrack that had commenced its third rotation by the time we finally left. It was just too goofy- and perfect.
So alas, it's back to the world of independent city girl-ism. No Christmas in the U.S. for me. Sad, because I could really stand to stretch out on the couch and play with my dog and talk to my family and eat home-cooked meals. But at $2000 + that's a luxury I just can't afford. And anyway, I'm quite excited about the ex-pat collaboration Elizabeth and I are having in Paris, which will undoubtedly be magical. This year I actually have more Christmas spirit than ever and I think it's the excitement of experiencing the holidays somewhere new. With ex-pat Thanksgiving dinners, advent parties and the fete de lumieres, I think it will be one of my most
exciting holiday seasons yet.
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