An American in Paris

“Tromp?” “I’m sorry, what?” “Tu aimes Tromp?” “OH! Do I like Trump???”
I’ve had this conversation so many times since coming to France. I had it today, in fact, with a server at a community cafe. This cafe received all of its food free from an organic grocery nearby who had good and healthy leftovers. The food was then prepared by two Syrian immigrants and served by volunteer servers. Our server, a kind frenchman, shook his head and gave a disgusted “oof” when we told him we were from southern states or, in his words, “Trump states.”

It’s interesting- the perception that French people have of Americans. Sometimes I feel like I’m a movie-star, other times I feel like an ignorant redneck. This may be an overgeneralization- but the French don’t like guns or conservatives. On the flip side, I call my dad and describe France and he reminds me that we saved the French and that they lack that American courage that sparked revolution against the British over 200 years ago. The French are similar in Americans to that; they have a streak of stubborn freedom. But skimming through history books will teach you that the French sometimes get carried away with the “stubborn” and forget the “freedom.”

All of this rambling leads me to my point; standing in front of the American cemetery and witnessing those thousands of white crosses made it real. American men had given there lives, not just for the sake the United States but just in the name of freedom, for men who’s language they probably couldn’t even speak. Touching the ones inscribed with “Here Rests In Honored Glory A Comrade In Arms Known But To God,” I couldn't imagine my husband or brother going off to a war so massive and so evil that none had been seen like it before, and wondering in your heart if America could have just stayed silent, stayed neutral, could those unknown men have lived?

I am truly proud to be an American. As much as I adore traveling and being here in France, I would never wish it away. I’ve heard many backhanded comments about America here, but in all the flaws is this shinning love for my country. Being in France has just made it stronger, made it something tangible. Those men gave there life for freedom, for other lives, other cultures, other generations. I’m thankful that no matter how many countries my feet hit the ground in or how many miles I wander, America will always be home.