I found myself this weekend Lyon, France which was bustling with people in the 70 degree spring weather. On monday I will finally be heading to Paris in what feels like somewhat of a pilgrimage eight years in the making.
With the frenzy of activity and commerce in Lyon came the street spectacles of the season, jugglers and troubadours of every nature.
Every few blocks there were tiny brass bands playing classically french songs, the Marseillaise, Milord. Each band tried hard to stand out in the crowd and wore bright festive colors or even funny costumes like bunnies and carrots. I stopped and gave each one five minutes of attention, laughing and clapping with other onlookers. I was not sure if it was a competition or if it was a Lyon thing but around every corner a new band was launching into another rendition of France's greatest hits.
My favorite group was a group of elderly performers all dressed up in 18th century peasant cloths. There were accordions and violins and a flurry of stamping and clapping. The performers danced traditional french folk dances, walking around in a circle or hopping out a jig with a partner. The whole spectacle made me smile.
Yet always present between these traditional forms of culture are signs and symbols I know very well. It seems I cannot go a few blocks in a major European city without seeing a Starbucks, a Subway or of course, a McDonalds.
Starbucks and McDonalds are always without fail complete zoos with lines going out the door and down the street.
The proliferation of American culture is everywhere. There are posters for upcoming movies, American actresses in dubbed ad campaigns and American music in the background of most stores. If not was not for the French/ German/ Dutch/ Spanish being spoken around me sometimes it would feel like I really was back in America.
It is not news to me that American culture has saturated through on a global scale, I was just not aware of the depth and scale it has promulgated. Though it is nice to see people love the things I do, it also feels a bit strange to be an American among all this. Here they have their own beautiful culture and cuisine and our culture is sort of tossed in among it, diluting the original value of each culture.
Although I love American culture, I am a product of it after all, I am not sure our best side is being shown here. Yes we have become a nation of corporations and consumerism and yes we are very patriotic and love a good hamburger. Yet, I get the sense that those are the only things that are rubbing off with the proliferation of our culture. The subtleties of what I find special in my own community or State are boiled over with these large generalizations of what I must do because I am American. There is a sense that people already know what it is like to be an American only because so much of our mass marketed culture surrounds them.
For instance, my French friend Alexandre, who's dream it is to go to American, asked me if my life was as epic and perfect as the American movies depict. I laughed and said no, I live a normal mixture of sad, boring, happy and sometimes exciting and that I do not see life through some special lomography lens. I added that my life in France is far more interesting and epic than my day to day life in America. I found it coincidental since I, the girl who always wanted to go to romantic, exciting Paris was being asked about America by a French person using the same idealistic terms.
And in a really strange, almost sick way, seeing this terrible representation of American culture actually makes me feel patriotic. Not in a "We have conquered the world one Big Mac at a time mwahah," kind of way, but in a, "Yeah it's a small piece of home and this McFlurry tastes like childhood," kind of way. To a slightly homesick person, the familiar logos are comforting at first, but then disturbing en masse. I love us and I hate us at the same time.
But I am thankful to have this new perspective on my own American identity and what others think of me because of this immediate categorization. It makes me reconsider the way I am perceiving the cultures in the cities I am visiting. What preconceived notions did I bring with me before I tried to get to know the country? How did I perceive this country before I actually came here?
I knew that I would find out the subtleties of a foreign culture, but did not expect to appreciate the subtleties of American culture in my own life. Although this proliferation of American culture looks, sounds and even smells like things I see back home, my individual experiences of life in America are far more humble, familial and organic than what it appears to be on a mass scale.
With the frenzy of activity and commerce in Lyon came the street spectacles of the season, jugglers and troubadours of every nature.
Every few blocks there were tiny brass bands playing classically french songs, the Marseillaise, Milord. Each band tried hard to stand out in the crowd and wore bright festive colors or even funny costumes like bunnies and carrots. I stopped and gave each one five minutes of attention, laughing and clapping with other onlookers. I was not sure if it was a competition or if it was a Lyon thing but around every corner a new band was launching into another rendition of France's greatest hits.
My favorite group was a group of elderly performers all dressed up in 18th century peasant cloths. There were accordions and violins and a flurry of stamping and clapping. The performers danced traditional french folk dances, walking around in a circle or hopping out a jig with a partner. The whole spectacle made me smile.
Yet always present between these traditional forms of culture are signs and symbols I know very well. It seems I cannot go a few blocks in a major European city without seeing a Starbucks, a Subway or of course, a McDonalds.
Starbucks and McDonalds are always without fail complete zoos with lines going out the door and down the street.
The proliferation of American culture is everywhere. There are posters for upcoming movies, American actresses in dubbed ad campaigns and American music in the background of most stores. If not was not for the French/ German/ Dutch/ Spanish being spoken around me sometimes it would feel like I really was back in America.
It is not news to me that American culture has saturated through on a global scale, I was just not aware of the depth and scale it has promulgated. Though it is nice to see people love the things I do, it also feels a bit strange to be an American among all this. Here they have their own beautiful culture and cuisine and our culture is sort of tossed in among it, diluting the original value of each culture.
Although I love American culture, I am a product of it after all, I am not sure our best side is being shown here. Yes we have become a nation of corporations and consumerism and yes we are very patriotic and love a good hamburger. Yet, I get the sense that those are the only things that are rubbing off with the proliferation of our culture. The subtleties of what I find special in my own community or State are boiled over with these large generalizations of what I must do because I am American. There is a sense that people already know what it is like to be an American only because so much of our mass marketed culture surrounds them.
For instance, my French friend Alexandre, who's dream it is to go to American, asked me if my life was as epic and perfect as the American movies depict. I laughed and said no, I live a normal mixture of sad, boring, happy and sometimes exciting and that I do not see life through some special lomography lens. I added that my life in France is far more interesting and epic than my day to day life in America. I found it coincidental since I, the girl who always wanted to go to romantic, exciting Paris was being asked about America by a French person using the same idealistic terms.
And in a really strange, almost sick way, seeing this terrible representation of American culture actually makes me feel patriotic. Not in a "We have conquered the world one Big Mac at a time mwahah," kind of way, but in a, "Yeah it's a small piece of home and this McFlurry tastes like childhood," kind of way. To a slightly homesick person, the familiar logos are comforting at first, but then disturbing en masse. I love us and I hate us at the same time.
But I am thankful to have this new perspective on my own American identity and what others think of me because of this immediate categorization. It makes me reconsider the way I am perceiving the cultures in the cities I am visiting. What preconceived notions did I bring with me before I tried to get to know the country? How did I perceive this country before I actually came here?
I knew that I would find out the subtleties of a foreign culture, but did not expect to appreciate the subtleties of American culture in my own life. Although this proliferation of American culture looks, sounds and even smells like things I see back home, my individual experiences of life in America are far more humble, familial and organic than what it appears to be on a mass scale.