The American

The weekend here was lovely, full of soccer games, bike rides, playground visits, and delicious meals. I met Richard’s son from his first marriage and his fiancé and enjoyed them both. When Alexandre, the son, heard I was from Nebraska he immediately started asking me about tornadoes. Apparently he is a severe-weather fanatic (they call him Monsieur la méteo, Mr. Weatherman). Other people’s reactions are just as enthusiastic, but for different reasons. Nude spa man had actually worked in Omaha for a few months but had few memories of it: the small airport, a ranch he visited one weekend, and the fact that the people were conservative. He was determined to make sure that I would take advantage of Montreal by trying new things and not being too “traditional.” I guess I crushed these hopes when I opted out of the nude spa visit. Richard and Guylaine didn’t know very much about the Midwest other than the fact that Midwesterners are known for not having an accent (which is incidentally part of the reason they chose me to come here). Richard had heard of Omaha though. He told me that he read somewhere that Omaha is the fastest-growing city in the US.

Everyone I have met has had one thing in common though when it comes to my home state: surprise. People are familiar with the two coasts and some of the bigger cities in the middle, but few people seem to think that people in Nebraska cannot be cultured or educated whatsoever. “You must be the only person there who speaks French!” Richard first exclaimed to me. Both Guylaine and Richard say I my French is great, better than their au pair from last year, and they are so puzzled as to how and why a Nebraskan would do this. I met a mother in the neighborhood yesterday who wasn’t aware that I was Fabrice and Ophélie’s au pair. She thought I was doing some sort of cultural exchange from a different part of Canada. She asked me which province I was from and when I told her I was American and from Nebraska she was shocked. She told me that it is very rare for Americans to speak more than one language, let alone to speak it well.

It’s not just my language abilities that surprise people though, it’s also my general knowledge of French and Quebecois politics and culture. Guylaine and I are friends on Facebook, where she is able to see my interests in various French movies and books. She was curious as to where and how I had learned this stuff. I suppose I owe a lot of my French pop culture knowledge to my high school French teacher, but I would still like to think that most Americans are still familiar with the movie Amélie or the singer Edith Piaf. At dinner Friday night I asked about the status of the Quebecois separatist movement. In the 70s, Quebec was very close to becoming its own nation; the final vote was actually split 49% to 51%. All the adults present were once again, surprised that an American knew about this. Likewise Richard was surprised when I asked about the large Jewish population of Montreal. I don’t know how to react to all of this. I guess I feel good to know that I’m perhaps dismantling the stereotype of the egocentric American who knows little beyond his own culture and history, but I also get angry. I just want to yell, “Yes it is possible for a Midwesterner and an American to know more than corn, the pledge of allegiance, and football. Why is everyone so surprised?” But then I wonder if perhaps their surprise is justified. How rare is my exception to the stereotypes? How many ignorant Americans have Canadians met that make them think this way? I know I’ve been lucky to get the great education that I have, but it seems like most of my friends speak more than one language, know multitudes about the world in which we live, and have studied or lived abroad. I guess this is part of one of those things they call the generation gap. Whatever the case, I hope the United States is one day not known for its ethnocentricity.