Misanthropic Expat Syndrome

“Americans should never come to Europe,’ she said, and tried to laugh and began to cry, ‘it means they never can be happy again. What’s the good of an American who isn’t happy?” — James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room

*

“I think that something’s happened to me,” I said.  Olivier looked over at me & creased his eyebrows.

“Like what?  Are you sick?  Did you eat too much fiber again?”

“No… I’m not feeling shitsy.  It’s more permanent than that, I think… & it seems to be getting worse.  I think I must be developing some sort of misanthropic expat syndrome.”

“I think you’ve had that for a while.”

“It’s getting worse,” I said.

“Yeah. I’ve noticed.  It’s probably not so bad,” he said. “Eating too much fiber feels worse, I bet.”

He’s right.  That does feel pretty bad.  Unfortunately, my misanthropic expat syndrome seems to be permanent & intensifying.

Something happens after a few years of living outside of the U.S.  Things begin to look different.  Priorities shift.  The change of perspective, the conversations that are had with a new set of people with a different, un-American set of experiences adds new colors to the big picture.

In the last general election, American young people couldn’t even be bothered to get off their asses & vote.  That is nothing short of a fucking embarrassment.  Sitting here, thousands of miles away from American shores, I see & hear countless people ranting & bitching about Tea Partiers or whatever asinine thing Sarah Palin said last week, but I rarely hear anyone freaking out about the horrifying increase in apathy.

When I mention this to my French friends, they’re shocked.  Of course they are… how could anyone have the right to vote & not use it?  Why would anyone give up the right to a voice in regard to who controls their lives?

One thing I found refreshing shortly after moving to France was the fact that people know what is happening around them & actually give a shit about it.  I have yet to have an in-depth conversation with someone here who is not aware of things that are happening in the world around them.  Paying attention to global events – both near & far – are important, not to be ignored & are worth discussing.

That isn’t to say that French people only talk about politics.  I’ve exchanged many a dick joke with these people.  Their sense of humor is definitely intact & lucky for me, my sarcasm has been most welcome here.

What I haven’t heard from a French person is the phrase, “I don’t pay attention to any of that.  It doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

I wish I could say the same about Americans.

As much as it is an inconvenience each time the French practice their national pastime of going on strike & protesting, a part of me is glad to see them taking to the streets & making a lot of noise when they feel like they’re getting the shaft.  You’ve probably heard some of the noise that the French made recently when they were protesting the retirement age changing from 60 to 62.  Many of those protesters were young people – the very demographic that the U.S. can’t get in to a freaking voting booth.  Sure, to Americans, this didn’t seem like something that was worth taking to the streets for & to that I have to say, SUCK IT.

Whether Americans agree or disagree with the reason, I will say that at least these people got off of their asses & did something.  To be honest, I didn’t see what the big deal was with a 2-year difference either, but that isn’t the point – the point is that young people got up & took to the streets instead of watching fucking Jersey Shore.

When my misanthropic expat syndrome really kicks in is when I listen to Americans bitching just as loud as a French protester about trivial things.  Lady Gaga.  Lindsay Lohan.  Hipsters.  It’s nigh impossible to even log onto the Internet without seeing someone pissing & moaning about this stuff.  If they’re 14 years old, then sure… I understand.  But, 30 & 40 year olds actually caring & knowing in-depth about celebrity train wrecks & what trendy, directionless kids are doing isn’t something I can have a conversation about.  Sorry.  Not unless I’m taking the piss out of it & the truth is, the only thing more annoying than hipsters & celebrity train wrecks is the people who whine about them or want to discuss them at length as though these topics mattered.

What I see looking in from the outside is the threat of Internet censorship.  Alienating homosexuals.  Treating people with brown skin like a criminals.  Islamaphobia.  Insanity prevailing & a horrible lack of cooler heads.  The things that Americans believe to be true is astounding.  People dying due to lack of healthcare.  I see our 4th Amendment rights going down the shitter as American citizens are being groped & scoped at the airport.  I could keep going, but is it even necessary?

If I were an evil mastermind trying to take down America, I would love this shit.  The divide & conquer tactic is working beautifully all over the country.  Its citizens are getting fat & going broke.  They’d be too busy fighting each other & Tweeting about Justin Bieber to even see it coming.

Many Americans are so consumed with fear of terrorists that they’ve blinded themselves to the fact that they are more likely to die from poor eating habits than from a terrorist attack.

All of the paranoia, craziness & Americans fighting amongst themselves really makes me grateful to be living in Europe.  I’m not saying that France doesn’t have its flaws.  I’ve written plenty of blog posts rambling on about my pet peeves in regard to living here & will continue to do so.  However, those are pet peeves & in no way compare to the feelings of disappointment that I have in watching the place that I love more than anywhere else on Earth collapsing in on itself.

So, I’m not saying that France – or any other European country – is perfect.  What I am saying is that they are the grown-up version of a nation, as opposed to the fat, bickering, spoiled brat of a nation.

Maybe you’re thinking something like, “Oh, you’re just a cynical piece of Colorado Eurotrash.  What do you care?  You don’t even live here anymore.”

Well… for one, I most likely don’t give a shit what you think.  For two, I’m still an American & I still vote, which is more than I can say for many of the people who are living there.

Yep… I still vote.  I still pay attention to what’s going on at home.  But, I prefer to watch it from here, among the baffled Europeans because I’m just as baffled as they are.  Every day, there is something else to leave me disgusted, disappointed or disenchanted with the U.S.  Not that I don’t miss it every day – because I do, but I’m thankful that I’m not there.

“So,” Olivier said.  “Does this mean that you don’t ever want to move back?  Will we stay here in France forever?”

“It’s looking that way,” I said.  “I feel safer here.  There’s less crime.  Affordable education & healthcare.  People here live longer.  They live more & work less.  No one here is causing hysteria about the French president’s religion or birthplace.”

“Indeed,” he agreed.  “It’s a bit more calm over here.”

“And sane.  But the American insanity seemed more tolerable when I was living there.”

“I think the U.S. just seems so bad to you now because you’ve seen what else there is – you’ve felt what it’s like to live another way.”

“Yeah,” I said.  “I’m suffering from expatriate-induced misanthropy.”

“Whatever,” he laughed.  “You were already well on your way before you ever got here.”

“Right.  Maybe it’s just me.”