I’ll drink to that: losing my tolerance for an American lifestyle

I expected I would learn a lot about the new culture I am now living in by studying abroad.

I expected to learn proper French dining etiquette (always cut your food with the fork in your left hand and no elbows on the table).

I knew I’d eventually get the hang of limiting my water usage (shower by turning the water on, then off to lather up and on again to rinse). I had a feeling I’d learn how to form slang in French (put the first half of the word at the end, similar to Pig Latin: “ci-mer” instead of “merci”).

But I didn’t think by traveling to a foreign country I’d gain a better understanding of American culture.

At the beginning of the semester, it was typical for my peers and I to continuously point out differences between the new culture we had just been thrown into and our lives in the States.

It was similar to when you first arrive at college and for the first semester, everyone constantly talks about where they came from and how it compares to being at IU. Finding the disparities helps you to understand where you are and where you have come from.

And I have to admit, after observing and evaluating French and American culture, I don’t think I want to ever go back to living what I’ve realized is “an American lifestyle.”

I don’t want to drink so much I can’t remember that I accidentally puked all over the guy at the bus stop – and then spend the next day hung over and cursing alcohol just to later recount what happened that night with my friends and act like it was a great night out.

I would like to have a great time with my friends and enjoy their company and be able to remember it the next day.

I get the impression there are fewer French people who abuse alcohol to the extent of their friends across the pond. It’s probably related to the fact that wine is as much a part of dinner as the traditional salad after the main course.

In general, I have learned the French know how to make their lives worthwhile. They don’t work themselves so hard that as a result, they pound shots of Jagermeister or play a couple rounds of power hour afterward. They know how to take a lunch break and understand that finding time to relax isn’t optional – it’s always necessary to avoid getting run down. After all, what does it matter how much money you make if you never have the chance to take a break to enjoy it?

I admire how their lifestyle lends itself to really appreciating things. It makes me feel as if Americans love to make everything disposable and efficient, from cleaning products and eating on the run to drunken one night stands.

At orientation, I was warned French people think Americans are easy. The drunken make out session made popular by fraternities across America doesn’t exist here. If you happen to hook up with a nice French man one night, expect a call from him the next day and an invitation to meet his mom within the week.

I get the feeling these American habits are the result of living in a country founded on puritanical values, where sexuality is never a topic for the dinner table and nudity is scandalous.

Meanwhile, good luck walking down the street in Paris and not seeing nude women on the magazines at the newspaper stand, in breast cancer awareness advertisements or in pictures on store front windows.  

I’ve realized I’d rather be comfortable perusing and appreciating the numerous statues and paintings of nude subjects in the Louvre than be proud to say I can stomach watching the violence and gore in Saw III. But that’s just my opinion. Maybe the excitement and festivities of my last Little Five week will rid me of my new perspective.

I’m hoping not.