During my time abroad, I’ve managed to remain an off-the-grid tourist. I eat at local restaurants and bars and take trips to the places in Spain that Spaniards like to visit.
That approach took a backseat this weekend as I traveled to Paris. For the first time since landing in Madrid, I couldn’t speak the language of the country and had no cultural context whatsoever.
In the practical sense, my main purpose as an IU student abroad is to learn the language and culture, which means going out and being in it, not just looking at it through a window.
Though I know I will never be able to shake my (very obvious) American-ness, I’ve managed not to let that characteristic define me. And given that I have a whole six months in Madrid, I’d rather learn how to live like a Spaniard than make the Spaniards live ?like me.
Going out of the country, on the other hand, is a very different experience. We had only two days to see the city, which meant throwing out our subtlety and going full-bore “tourist mode.”
We had an itinerary, I ?tell you.
For the first time since landing in Europe, I felt like an American abroad, and it was surprisingly freeing.
It gave me a perspective of where I was in the world and what my American identity means in a global context.
We were able to make comparisons between French, American and Spanish culture, food and lifestyle. I was surprised at how similar the French and Spanish were.
There’s the same ?emphasis on food.
In the famous macaroon store Ladurée, I had the same feeling I felt when making paella — that I was not only enjoying food but experiencing a cultural ?phenomenon.
But when it comes to customer service, America has Europe beat. Waiters do not work on tips but are paid hourly, which means they really don’t care if you have enough water or if your meal tastes fine.
Sadly, I have discovered I am someone who ?likes being babied in a ?restaurant.
In a country where you study in order to learn the language, a lot of times it feels like your task is to trick the locals into thinking you are one of them. The minute I let my American accent slip and someone guesses who I am, I’ve lost the game.
Going to France as a tourist allowed me to finally account for all of these cultural similarities and differences honestly and without pretense.
So I guess I can admit it: I like being a tourist. Especially if I learn something along the way.
ewenning@indiana.edu
