Patriotism Abroad: Some Observations

Another year has passed, and this time I found myself celebrating the Fourth of July in Germany. It's happened before that I've been out of the country on that glorious anniversary--after all, summer is a time of travel for many--but I think those of us living in Tuebingen experienced it a bit differently this year. It's one thing to be traveling as an American on a national holiday like this, but it's another entirely to have been living in a foreign place, as part of a foreign culture, for nearly a year leading up to it.

Many friends I've talked to--and not only Americans--say they've felt more patriotic during this year abroad than they ever did at home. This is certainly the case for me. Though I can't speak for everyone, I can speak to my own personal feelings as an American, and I think I've finally figured out why that phenomenon exists for me. For people of my age, I think it starts with our personal political histories. My first political memory was of a mock vote held at my elementary school during Clinton's reelection. My first political experience in which I was aware of the news and the conversations adults were having was the election between Bush and Gore during my 7th grade year. I think 12 is a fairly important age, largely because you are becoming more aware of your own personal identity as a young adult, and that includes your national identity. As a 12 year-old, I don't think it would be inaccurate to say that I was beginning, for the first time, to explore my environment with a personal, critical eye, instead of just absorbing and embracing what I was told, at least in regard to bigger issues, without question. This means, essentially, that for the entirety of my real political awareness, it has been 'not cool' for reasonably liberal young people of my age to feel patriotic. And depending on your own political persuasions, you may feel there wasn't much to feel patriotic about, given the overwhelming role our international persona played on our internal feelings as a nation. At least for some of the population. Now, this is certainly not intended to be a discussion of my political beliefs or an argument against anyone else's; we're all entitled to our own opinions, and that is something to feel great about, both at home, and in many cases abroad. I think it is, however, an accurate representation of how young people like me may have felt. With Obama's election during my sophomore year of college, suddenly going abroad as an American didn't automatically open one up to the possibility of prejudice or nasty remarks; we were, essentially, 'cool' again.

Having grown up under those circumstances, I think I have always been quicker to criticize than to praise my own country. Not the people as a whole, but the aspects of our culture and politics that are broadcast to the world. This new ability to feel patriotic without feeling ridiculous has coincided somewhat with my time in Tuebingen, and it's provided a very interesting environment in which to examine my own experiences at home. We all learn as students that no one, and no place, is perfect. Every person has their faults and faces their own challenges, and the same can be said of every country, though some problems manifest themselves on a larger scale than others. I knew this before coming to Germany, but being here has really given me the chance to experience it, both first hand and long term.

Do I like Germany? Absolutely, I've loved it. Is it a 'perfect' country? A 'perfect' culture for everyone? Not in the slightest; that's not physically possible for any nation--there are just too many individual stakeholders. But the same is true of the US. In Germany, I like that my healthcare is extremely affordable, that my lovingly-separated trash is disposed of in a more ecologically friendly way than my massive mix of waste at home (though to be fair, we do recycle!), that trains can take me everywhere, that the public transportation system is generally outstanding, that religious views are often separated from political and governmental goals (though you will find one party with 'Christian' in its name, this doesn't have quite the same effect it might in the States). I dislike that I have to speak to someone over a counter to buy bandaids, that I've observed it can be more difficult for working mothers to be working mothers with full-time jobs, that we have so many public holidays for Christian observances that sometimes it feels like my grocery-shopping and use of the buses are on permanent hold, that I can't go to the university library on a Sunday, and that people can sometimes seem fairly cold or stand-offish if you don't have an 'in', as I like to say.

But I have a similar experience at home. I am appalled by some of the things being considered by our politicians and by their inability to work together for a greater good, and by the idea that some rights granted to women over 30 years ago could now theoretically be once more taken away. I dislike our wastefulness, our sense of entitlement I think we express as a nation as a whole (and it should be made very clear I do not speak of individual people here), the desire some have to go against the documents that outlined the foundation of our country under the pretense of following those documents to the letter (I know, it doesn't make sense to me, either), and the lack of time given to new parents for their infants, or to working individuals in general for themselves. On the other hand, the underlying principles that were built upon to found our nation (life, liberty, freedom, justice, the right to uphold, live by, and carry out one's convictions and beliefs) constitute a wonderful ideal. I love that I have more freedom of choice within my education, that I can get a speedy appointment with an orthopedist if the need arises, that political correctness is highly valued, that a great variety of international foods and cultural experiences are available, that I grew up aware of an enormous amount of diversity, that I can get pretty much whatever I need on any day of the week, that I can call customer service at 10pm to discuss a problem with my airline booking, that people are often friendly and willing to chat when you sit down in your seminar, and that many options exist for mothers who seek to simultaneously have full work and family lives, as my own does.

What is the point of all this? To appreciate that no country, no culture has it all figured out for everybody, you truly have to experience it for yourself. To appreciate the US fully, I had to spend 11 months away from it. I do not mean to imply that I've found the US in any way better than Germany, but rather that I can see the depth of both countries and appreciate both for what they offer. Now, some of the things I have listed are trivial in terms of interaction and national representation on the world stage. Bus schedules do not good foreign policy make, but they do affect the lives of the people who live with them, and I know we've all done both a lot of complaining and praising with regard to the small, day-to-day aspects of life here. I will be sad to leave Germany, but--even considering my feelings about our political climate and the "breathaking inanity" I observe every day in the news at home--I am also truly excited about the place to which I am returning.


Because of this new found sense of patriotism, we celebrated a very happy Fourth of July yesterday, in generally lovely sunshine on the Neckarinsel here in Tuebingen. We had friends all around, cold salads, cheeseburgers, veggie dogs, flag-themed cake desserts, and some culturally blasphemous Pimm's...but hey, it's all about tolerance now, right? After having gotten all dressed up to support the Irish national soccer team in the European Cup this past month, it was a nice experience to have friends--German, Irish, and English--throw on some red, white, and blue, and come party it up in honor of America. You can tell that we've not only all gained a greater appreciation for the places from which we come, but also for the people we have met along the way. And that, I think, is a pretty wonderful thing.

Next on the agenda for increasing world tolerance: getting more students signed up for Erasmus.

 Pasta salad with lemon vinaigrette. One of my several contributions, and very, very delicous. 

 Anya's flag cupcakes!

 Getting the ball rolling with a little red, white, and blue action

 Josh makes Pimm's Cup!

 The first wave of picnic-ers in their patriotic garb! (I should note we have four countries represented here)

 Yum!

 We have quite the spread, with a grill that was finally cooking things after a little bit of tinkering

 More friends arrive

 and more

 ...and more! 

Josh spontaneously and pensively contemplates the beauty of a Fourth of July BBQ attended by students from six countries

Paris

Last weekend, I had the great fortune to be invited to visit my aunt, uncle, and cousins in Paris! I had been once before with my mom, but couldn't pass up the chance to visit them and see the city again; they live in California, and the last time I'd had the chance to see them was at my cousin's wedding in 2009, halfway between a bout of swine flu and a bout of pneumonia. Not exactly prime socializing time.

They had been renting an apartment as part of their European vacation this summer, and already spent a week and a half or so in Paris by the time I arrived. This meant they had all of the neighborhood highlights scoped out--and by neighborhood highlights, I of course mean a patisserie/boulangerie, the best crepe location, and the closest places to hit up for shopping and open air markets. Ehhhh, life is rough!

I arrived on Friday morning after moving around some obligations (thanks to all of my very understanding employers/students) and an extremely easy train trip. It's still a little funny to me that I can get to Paris in less time than I can get to Berlin. My handy dandy $.99 iphone app helped me sort out exactly which subway line to take to get to the apartment, and I met up with my cousins and aunt. We spent some time catching up at the apartment, and then headed out to meet their step cousin, Juliette, for tea. She grew up and studies in Paris, and showed us a lovely promenade hidden above the street before taking us to a Moroccan cafe for tea and delicious treats (hello baklava). My uncle met up with us there, and then we parted with Juliette to head off, do a little bit of shopping, and find a delicious restaurant for dinner.

We succeeded when we found a lovely small place called L'Atlantide, where we ordered a variety of tasty French fare. We sampled fish, onion soup, beef, lamb, chicken, escargot, creme brulee, apple tart, chocolate mousse, some lovely wine, and kir, courtesy of the owner! I tried escargot for the first time, and was pleasantly surprised to find that they essentially taste like mussels saturated in garlic butter. Who would have thought! I'd always wanted to give them a try, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity. I will definitely be having them again!

Waiting for our first of three courses to arrive. Notice Emily and I are already strategically placed to share our desserts. We have our priorities straight!

On Saturday morning, my Uncle Jamie and I headed out to an open-air market for some dinner ingredients. It was really nice--not too large, but providing an ample array of fresh, beautiful produce. We hemmed and hawed and finally settled on a large bag of fresh mussels, sea bass, trout, potatoes, fennel, and an unbelievable softy, parmesan-style cheese. The man at the stall handed us a sample and we were sold! We also got to try some algae plants as a snack; the guy who sold us are mussels encouraged us to try them as he was bagging them up, and we both gave them a go. They were a bit twiggy-looking with a texture similar to green beans and a deliciously salty flavor. Nature's potato chips!

 About 2/3 of the enormous fish selection--we had quite the difficult time making a decision

 Perusing the cheese options. And we had to limit ourselves to one!

Juicy, juicy mangoes!

After a leisurely late breakfast and some coffee back at the apartment, we headed out to see the Parisian catacombs. The line was ridiculously long, and the nice people at the front advised us the wait had been about 90 minutes. We split into two groups, and the first of us headed for a little stroll to check out the neighborhood, and wound up with a delicious Greek sandwich, filled with some kind of meaty falafel, hummos, and tabouleh. We returned, swapped out our groups, and were in the catacombs about 30 minutes later--piece of cake! I had no idea these existed, but the catacombs run all over subterranean Paris like a maze of access tunnels. We toured through the part that is open to the public (though people--cataphiles--spend time in the parts that aren't necessarily set up for tourism, or access at all), which consisted of an introduction to the history of the underground tunnels, as well as a geological explanation of the formation of the area and where exactly we were going to be within the earth. Overcoming a little bit of claustrophobia, we pushed bravely on to the catacombs themselves, including the area that houses the bones of thousands of bodies removed from deconsecrated cemeteries and some casualties of the revolution. Slightly creepy; very cool. I kept being reminded of my visit to Newgrange in Ireland; I was all hunky dory inside the neolithic passage tomb until someone asked about how much earth and rock was on top of us (the roof is corbeled, meaning its held together by the pressure of all of the continuously overlapping stones that make it up, coming to a point like the top of a bee hive, and then covered in a mound of dirt). When our tour guide happily produced the figure, I suddenly had a horrific image of the whole thing coming down on top of me and experienced a totally unexpected wave of dizziness. I knew I didn't like extremely tight spaces, but I didn't know the fear extended beyond that. At any rate, a few deep breaths and a reminder that the Parisian catacombs hadn't experienced cave-ins in decades (hah) was a fairly solid remedy.

The bones are artfully displayed on the surface, but are apparently a jumble behind the nice facade.

After finishing up at the Catacombs, we headed over to the Musee Marmont Monet to get a dose of impressionism without the hectic, afternoon crowds at the Musee d'Orsay. I'd never heard of this museum before, but was really glad my aunt and uncle had planned to go. We saw some beautiful pieces of Monet's work, including a selection from the time at the end of his career when he was losing his eyesight; the canvases were much sparser, with a lot of blank space between his brushstrokes, but the color and movement of his lines were still stunning. My uncle pointed this out so we could keep an eye out for it, and it was a pretty moving thing to behold. We also saw an exhibit on Berthe Morisot, Impressionism's most famous and influential female painter (and up there with the greats, male or female, in general). I had never heard of her before, and really enjoyed seeing her absolutely stunning work, especially all of the paintings she did with her daughter and niece as the subjects engaged in varying activities. 

That night, most of us sat around exhausted while my Uncle Jamie made us an unbelievable meal with the produce we'd picked out at the market. We started with delicious bread and cheese, then moved on to some of the best mussels I have ever eaten (don't dare go accusing me of hyperbole, I am very much serious), and finished off with our fresh fish, heads and all (to the delight of some, and disdain of others). Emily and I engaged each other in a friendly game of cribbage, and there was also some fairly competitive Bananagrams action. Who won? Who's to say, it's all just good old family fun ;)

 In the park near the museum, enjoying some lower key, Parisian family life

 Still wondering if Ash and Whit were hugging, or secretly trying to strangle each other!

 With some gift shop purchases after the museum

 Using our mussel pincers to eat our mussels. This is my favorite new skill!

Emily cooties! 

Proving that not all fish faces are bad

 Emily takes our cribbage playing very seriously! She's also whooping my butt, here.

Apartments off Place des Vosges

We woke to a gray, rainy day on Sunday, and decided to start things off with our typical sampling of pastries and some lazy time. There may or may not have been more Bananagrams. Like college visits, all the times I beat my uncle are starting to run together. (Whoops, did I just say that?). After a while we headed out for some crepes, a little retail therapy, and a visit to Place des Vosges, one of the oldest squares in Paris that just happens to house the home of Victor Hugo. I had a thing for Les Miserables when I was a wee one (and still consider it an absolutely fabulous musical, just not an obsession), so this was very cool indeed. We checked out a few art galleries and shops, perused the recreated apartment, and then decided our best option might be a movie. With somewhat of a dearth of English options, we settled on Moonrise Kingdom. I think I was the only one who had heard anything about it, but everything I'd heard said it was excellent. We grabbed a croque monsieur with frites to share and a coffee while we waited for the movie to begin next door, and then gave it   our professional, critical perusal. Verdict: Great. Very funny, very offbeat. Even the cousins agreed that, though it was weird, it was good and they enjoyed it. Two thumbs way up from the Steidl clan! 

Here's the trailer

Given our tired legs, we headed back for a quiet evening in the apartment filled with falafel, silliness, and Bananagrams. Emily and I teamed up to rock the house, and then I taught her that I am allowed to tickle her, but she is not allowed to tickle me. I learned this lesson from my brother, so I had to pass it along. Maybe we can blame our older cousin, Nick, for this one, too? 

 Enjoying my Nutella-Banana crepe. Does it get much better on a rainy day? This thing was so chock full of melty Nutella and bananas, I could hardly contain it inside the crepe. No complaints. 

Emmy's feeling pretty good about hers, too!

 All good Europeans know; never leave home without your umbrella!

 At this point, we needed our coffee...

(why yes, Mom, that IS one of my new scarves!)

 This girl will be a star on the professional cribbage circuit, mark my words

 I threw together a small, reconstructed model of Stonehenge during a break in the Bananagrams mayhem...may have taken a little artistic liberty here, but hey, everything can be improved, right?

On Monday morning I had to head back to Tuebingen, but I didn't leave Paris without procuring some of the world's greatest cookies--my beloved macarons. I had my birthday coming up, plus the birthdays of my good friend, Sera, and my babysitting mom (and another good friend) Christine. I thought these would make suitable gifts, and I think everyone was pretty pleased. Plus, the best part is, you have an excuse to eat them all in a short span of time, since fresh is best, in my humble opinion. I leave you with my 'personal item' on the TGV home...yes you see three boxes of macarons. 

I had an absolutely wonderful weekend, and it was such a treat to get to spend some family time with people I don't often get to see. I have vowed to remedy this, though, and may spend my first American spring break in four years doing something leisurely, and not in Florida. Yes, I am referring to drinking copious amounts of California wine and losing to Emily at cribbage. Also quite possibly Bananagrams. I'm gonna stay sharp, Emmy D, watch out!