“en faire tout un fromage / making a mountain out of a mole hill”
Frustration, even tears, as I fruitlessly try a fourth time to enter the pin code. I have confused my SIM card pin with my debit card pin, both different from the ATM code I used to use when in the USA… where credit card use is authorized by signature. So I won’t be able to pay for the groceries with EUROS.
Feeling like a failure, I accept the currency conversion costs and use instead my American credit card to buy clementines and poireaux (leeks), kakis (persimmons) and creme fraiche (French variant of sour cream), and we rush home on a busy Friday night, flustered.
My daughter, dodging a man speeding by on a scooter, bumps SMACK into one of the many poles you find on Parisian sidewalks (to signal to cars how far up they can park). “There are a lot more poles on sidewalks here than in NYC!” she says, and she’s right. Her sore forehead a useful reminder of the difference.
Christmas music had been playing in the grocery, and it played in our heads the rest of the way home, cheering our spirit slightly despite the embarrassments. All the Christmas music was in English, I reflected. Where’re the French-language carols? (any ideas?) Turns out: Christmas songs, like Coca Cola and McDonald’s and the modern-day Santa Claus, are part of the American cultural brand that have swept the world since the 1950’s.
Not that it’s all about American consumer culture : The mirth of Father Christmas goes back long before the USA was invented. Santa Claus evolved from the Sinterklass of northern Europe, inspired in part by St Nicholas and in part by the Norse god Odin. & There are other end-of-year holidays with bright lights and warm feasting (I see you Kwanzaa Slide!) No matter what we celebrate, it makes sense to gather together during the darkest time of the year.
As for memorizing new pin codes — and getting used to unexpected parking poles — I’m slowly making peace with cultural mash-ups. To hear happy music in English during the holidays in France, it’s weird and it’s also really nice.
Immigrating is hard enough, and having come from NYC to Paris precisely two years ago, I am learning to appreciate during the holidays and all year round what both cultures bring to the table!
—
When I first arrived in France, I latched onto an analogy describing the French as coconuts and Americans as peaches. The fruit metaphor is useful because it’s so simple.
French — cold on the outside, soft in the middle.
Americans — soft on the outside, hard in the middle.
In other words, it takes a lot of work to earn the trust of a French person because of how coldly (in general) they treat strangers, whereas Americans though friendly at first are harder to get to know at an intimate personal level.
So much for the low-hanging fruit!
Intercultural awareness can and should go deeper than that.
It’s tempting to consider cultures as fruits, plucked from trees and served as is. We get the stereotype and now (we think) we can talk about the whole entire culture as if everyone were the same and we have it figured out.
Let’s talk about chili. It’s an American dish. You take some beans and throw them in a pot. You throw in some meat and some spice, maybe some tomato sauce. You’re done.
If you have ever made chili more than once though, you know that the types and amounts of spice you put into the dish can change it subtly every time.
Let’s talk about cassoulet. It’s French, similar but different. You take some beans and throw them in a pot. You throw in some meat and some spice… sound familiar? You heat it up, let the fat of the meat melt down, you let it all cool down, you heat it up again, you let it cool down, and you repeat until you can resist no more and decide to eat the buttery dish.
Why am I talking about food?
Because food is delicious, these two dishes in particular, and also because the essence is in the details even if the grand gestures seem the same.
Culture is similar. At the surface, people start to look the same. Get to know people more closely, and you start to delight in the infinity variety and difference.
Cultures are not as simple as a coconut-peach comparison would suggest. Comparing across a mere binary (French — American, shy — outgoing, pessimistic — optimistic, engineering — sales) gives a false impression.
A culture has its own integrity and balance, which should be considered in its entirety if wanting to appreciate the difference.
To take one cultural example, here is a potential misunderstanding:
The French could think, Why are Americans so loud? Do they think we are stupid? They’re like foolish children. They’re not even pronouncing Bonjour correctly, and yet they’re still smiling?
The French language is very very loved by all those who speak it. They wish others would learn to love it just as well. For those who have had the time to hear and practice, you’ll know a lot of sounds in French words are articulated from back in the throat. There are also more silent letters. French is generally spoken more melodiously and with less force.
English on the other hand has in part Nordic / Saxon origins, especially the shorter-syllabled words that American speakers prefer to use, and those sounds often have naturally a forward force. Americans are accustomed to asserting authority with robust articulation, expressing joviality with heartfelt pats on the back and loud laughter, keeping things positive.
If looking at American behavior with a French cultural lens, we might misunderstand Americans as boorishly loud and rude, when in fact most Americans are intending confidence and positivity, nothing more.
Similarly but from another perspective, when Americans face an adversity that requires a real effort to overcome, some cultures (including the French perhaps) would tend to see the effort as sisyphean, an uphill battle you could never win. Quit while you’re ahead. Never try. That honest stance is worthy of respect; however, the same strain within American DNA that could be called hypocritical in some instances could also become heroic! Seeing ‘the impossible’ as merely a challenge that will require teamwork, persistence, and careful planning to overcome — Americans have in the past century quite impressively sent men to the moon, turned the tide in two world wars, and moved themselves from a colonial backwater to a global superpower. This hopeful optimism runs deep and will be useful in approaching the crises we face today.
Other forces powering the achievements of the USA include America’s beliefs in an ever-expanding frontier and a salad-like inclusivity of all immigrants coming to its shores. Some critics would call those beliefs mythological and based in neither hard facts nor fair policies. Those critics would be correct in their judgment, but that doesn’t change the complementary argument that having strong beliefs that appeal to many people is a great way to mobilize collective change. American leaders and cultural icons have used these beliefs to produce wonderful things.
The title of this essay alludes to an expression in both languages that cannot be directly translated. Though expressed different ways, the general idea is that there’s no use making a big deal about a thing that’s actually not that important.
Not understanding things is normal. Making mistakes is normal. Let’s not make a big deal about the stereotypes we need to outgrow or the frustrations we’ll feel faced with so much difference.
We can perceive cultures superficially and at levels that run deep. All the subtle differences might be ultimately impossible to sort out altogether.
My hope at the end of the day is to appreciate both what American and French culture have to offer. Chili and cassoulet, each simple on the surface yet complex underneath, are both delicious — especially during winter holidays.
