The weather reports are in and we all agree that this has been one of the worst summers we've seen in years here in France. I talked to both my sister-in-law in Lille and my mother-in-law near Concarneau and everyone is reporting chilly temperatures, grey skies, and showers.
I'm from Seattle where this is not unusual and if I learned one thing from my wicked youth in the Emerald City, it's the importance of having lots of indoor projects to tide one through inclement weather. As I mentioned before I am going through my archives - these boxes of photos, old correspondence and memorabilia that we've faithfully hauled (and paid a small fortune to have hauled) from one continent to another over the past 20 years. I've found quite a few gems in those musty old cardboard boxes. Would you believe I still have every letter my spouse wrote to me before we were married when he was still living in Nantes and I was at university in Seattle? This has sparked some interesting conversations with my family here as I'm not the only one to keep this sort of thing - my mother-in-law, for example, still has the very first letter I ever wrote to her in French. I will not post any of the correspondence but there are other things like photos that I'll throw up here just for fun.
Today's offering is a quotation that I found at the bottom of the pile typed out on a yellowed piece of paper. It came from the kitchen of a friend of mine in Seattle. He was hands-down the worst housekeeper I've ever known. His house was so dirty, it was almost unbearable with huge piles of old newspapers and magazines scattered about and there were cats everywhere (at least ten of them when we tried to count). The crust alone on the kitchen floor was enough to make you queasy. But there was one room that was more or less in order and that was the dining room. His housekeeping might have been ghastly and unsanitary but he was one of the best cooks I've ever known. We had some fabulous meals there and I say "we" because I met my French spouse in that house. He was an exchange student at the time (from what is now called Centrale Nantes) and he was in town to study at the University of Washington, my alma mater. As they say, the rest is history.
My Seattle friend made no apologies for the state of his home but I'm pretty sure some of his friends spoke to him about it. Not to criticize but because at one point it was so bad that we all wondered when the local Health department would take an interest. Being a stubborn sort, I'm sure this did no good at all and one day when we stopped by we saw this quotation by the venerable Ed Ricketts from John Steinbeck's The Log from the Sea of Cortez set in a pretty frame and placed prominently in the kitchen. I liked it so much that I wrote it down and kept it. It's not a bad philosophy to live by and I might just frame it and put it up in my kitchen one of these days. Here it is:
We must remember three things: Number one and first in importance, we must have as much fun as we can with what we have. Number two, we must eat as well as we can, because if we don't we won't have the health and strength to have as much fun as we might. And number three and third in importance, we must keep the house reasonably in order, wash the dishes and such things. But we will not let the last interfere with the other two.
Ed Ricketts quoted by John Steinbeck in The Log from the Sea of Cortez
It is that time of year again when French high school students pass (or not as the case may be) the grueling examination called le baccalauréat. This exam was created in 1808 and today it serves as the gateway to higher education, professional training and the world of work. There are three kinds of "Bac": général, technologique and professionel. Within the baccalauréat général (which is primarily for students headed for university) there are three possible disciplines to choose from: Literature (Bac L), Science (Bac S) and Economy and Society (Bac ES). Last year the elder Frenchling passed her Bac in Literature which allowed her to enter McGill last Fall. This year, Arun's (of the excellent blog Arun with a View) daughter successfully passed her Bac in ES and you can read about it in his post Rites of Passage. You can also find some interesting stats concerning this year's exam on the Ministry of Education website. In June 2012:
703 059 candidats étaient inscrits aux épreuves du baccalauréat : 48 % en filière générale, 21 % dans les séries technologiques et 31 % dans la voie professionnelle, avec une augmentation de près de 7 % des inscrits par rapport à 2011. (703,059 candidates were registered for the exam: 48% for the baccalauréat général, 21% for the bac technologique and 31% for the bac professionel.)
Based on the first results covering 90% of the candidates, the success rates were: 79.3% for the general bac, 69% for the technology bac and nearly 69% for the professional bac.
We lived through this process last year but, alas, we are not out of the woods yet because the younger Frenchling is now in her final years of high school here at the Lycée de Sèvres (sections internationales). She is actually preparing two exams: the French baccalauréat général in science (Bac S) and the OIB (Option Internationale Bac) with exams in English supervised by the University of Cambridge Local Examinations Syndicate. Interestingly enough she had her first set of French exams this year because some of the tests are given in Première (the year that corresponds to the American Junior year of high school) with the others to follow next year when she is in Terminale (Senior year). Specifically she had to take her French tests (oral and written) before being liberated for the summer.
How tough are these tests? Well, have a look at her convocation: 4 hours for the written portion and 20 minutes for the orals. This is not a SAT-style multiple choice exam. This is an essay to write on a serious subject and an individual oral exam in front of someone from a Commission d'interrogation.
Ça ne rigole pas.
She survived. Or at least she showed up on time, took the test, and then came home and slept. When we asked how it went, she grimaced and told us to "go away and leave me alone." In theory we are supposed to get the results today but the website is down (or groaning under the weight of all the students and their parents trying to log in) and I haven't been able to access it. We're crossing our fingers and hopefully we will have her grades later today or tomorrow.
For diverse reasons, I miss Sarkozy but I like the new French President, François Hollande, more and more. Yesterday he gave a speech at the Grande Conférence Sociale here in Paris (program here).
It was a good speech: sober and clear with a call for everyone to "serrer les coudes" (work together) to fix the pressing issues of the day (youth and senior unemployment, the economy, the debt) in order to save the things that matter like "les régimes sociaux" (social safety net). No hyperbole or grand rhetoric or attempts to "chercher les coupables" (find the guilty). It's the kind of speech that one would expect when there are grown-ups running a government.
You can read the full text of the speech here. Allow me to translate a few paragraphs for the non-Francophones in the audience so you can get a taste of his method and his message:
The state of the nation: "Je ne veux rien cacher de la situation de notre pays. Nul besoin de forcer le trait, il suffit de prendre la mesure des trois grands défis que nous devons collectivement relever." (I don't want to hide anything about our country's situation. No need for exaggeration, it's enough to simply look closely at the three large challenges that we must face together). These are, he says: the debt, the eroding competitiveness of the French economy, unemployment and social insecurity.
Three conditions to respect in the search for solutions: 1. "D’abord, les Français veulent en comprendre le sens." (First the French people want to understand the reasoning) 2. "C’est la justice." (justice). How, he asks, can we ask the people to rally behind us if the most favored percentage of the population is exempt and only working people are required to make sacrifices? 3. "Enfin, la condition la plus certaine de la réussite, c’est la confiance. Les sociétés qui connaissent les performances les plus élevées sont celles qui ont su nouer des compromis durables." (Finally, trust/confidence is the most important condition for success. Those societies that have the highest performance are the ones that know how to put together compromises that last).
A method based on three principles to save the French model: 1. "Le premier est d’aborder l’ensemble des sujets, sans exclusive (The first is to tackle all the subjects, no exclusions. Everything goes on the table), 2. Fixer un agenda cohérent et partagé permettant d’avancer en commun, dans le respect de l’indépendance de chacun." (Set a coherent and shared agenda to progress together while respecting everyone's independence), 3. "S’inscrire dans la durée." (commit to the long-term). The goal, he says, is not to have multiple conferences just to hear everyone talk over and over again on the same topics.
Seven themes: 1. L'emploi (employment), 2. "Le développement des compétences et la formation tout au long de la vie." (skill development and life-long training), 3. "Les rémunérations" (compensation), 4. L’égalité (equality), 5. "L’avenir de nos retraites." (the future of our retirement system), 6. "L’équilibre de nos comptes et la compétitivité de notre pays." (find the right balance between the budget and the competitiveness of our country), 7. "Assurer la pérennité de nos régimes sociaux." (assure the long-term survival of our social safety net).
Hollande ended his speech with this modest statement: "Je ne demande à personne, ici, d’abandonner ses convictions, de renoncer à ses revendications, de ne céder à je ne sais quelle pression. Je fais confiance à des acteurs libres et indépendants pour prendre leur part de la tâche commune. Celle qui nous dépasse : l’avenir de notre pays. Toute votre part." (I am not asking anyone here to abandon his convictions, to renounce his interests or to cave under I do know what pressure. The thing that is more important than all of us is the future of our country. It is in your hands).
Very promising and, from my standpoint, inspiring in a quiet thoughtful way. We'll see how things shake out in the year to come.
A few days ago I tried to make a contribution to a political campaign in the U.S. and was stymied by their on-line software that didn't like my foreign address and wouldn't take my home phone number (French format + 33 1...). If this had happened a few years ago I probably would have given up in disgust but this time around I decided I wasn't going to let it go. So I wrote them an email and I explained that I was one of millions of Americans abroad and gently proposed that they look at their software and make it more expat-friendly. In the meantime I asked for a workaround so that I could send them money and participate in the American political process just like Americans in the homeland.
To their credit they got right back to me and started working on a fix. But one email from a staff member set me back on my heels. He thanked me for my support but said that in his travels he had met communities of Americans abroad and his experience was that none of them ever showed any interest in voting in the U.S. much less in making a contribution to a campaign.
Let's be honest and admit that there is some truth to what he said. The reasons vary but, yes, out of the estimated 6-7 millions Americans abroad only a small percentage ever cast votes. The Overseas Vote Foundation has this excellent report from 2010 which attempted to analyze the number of Americans abroad who are eligible to vote and how many actually succeeded in the 2008 election. Their conclusion?
If voter turnout is defined as the number of people who attempted to vote (total ballots submitted for counting or 273,408) divided by the total population (approximately 4 million), approximately 6.8 percent of the overseas civilian population attempted to participate and were successful in doing so.
That's pathetic. But does this indicate a lack of interest or outright disenfranchisement? Both. Once an expatriate has been abroad for 10, 15, 20 years he/she may no longer be particularly well-informed about local politics (remember that Americans abroad vote from the U.S. state where they last resided regardless of how many years they've been abroad). Then there is the matter of the rather byzantine procedures that U.S. states had for overseas voters that made registering and casting a ballot in the U.S. from abroad complex and rather painful. Interest wanes when confronted with a process that is not terribly friendly and hard to understand. To add insult to injury, many of those who did navigate the process in 2008 saw their ballots rejected. And finally, there is one group of Americans citizens abroad who actually are unable to vote at all in many cases in the U.S.: American citizens born abroad and living abroad. That's right, not all U.S. states allow them to vote at all even though these U.S. citizens are required to pay U.S. taxes and could be liable for a military draft. Homelanders can bluster all they want about getting Americans abroad to "pay their faire share in taxes," but this is flat-out taxation without any representation and I fail to see on what planet this constitutes "fair."
All this is very disheartening but there are some blue skies on the horizon and, I think, some very good reasons for Americans abroad to vote in 2012. Here are my responses to some of the rationales I've heard from my compatriots abroad for not voting in U.S. elections. If you have a problem with my reasoning, please feel free to disagree. This is a topic worth debating.
They'll find me: Many Americans abroad are struggling with the compliance dilemma. As people become aware of the U.S. tax and reporting requirements, and realize that they are potentially in a lot of trouble, they are afraid to vote because they think that by doing so this will give the U.S. government (the IRS) a heads-up. My .02 on this is that, with FATCA coming on-line in 2013, they will find you in any case with the help of your host country. I suppose it is possible to do a deep-dive: close your bank accounts, transfer your money to a spouse, live on cash, give up your career/business and hide in a rural area, let your U.S. passport lapse and avoid the local U.S. Embassy as if it were plague-infested territory and so on. Some people will undoubtedly go that route but, personally, I don't find any of that to be terribly congenial. I respectfully suggest that the time for sticking our heads in the sand and hoping we will be left alone has come and gone, my friends. So instead of limiting our options, let's expand them by registering to vote, casting our ballots and raising an unholy stink if the states try to disenfranchise us.
Local politicians in the U.S. don't care about my overseas vote: Maybe we need to start giving them a reason to care. Look, if we have any hope of getting some of this nonsense corrected, we must start flexing our muscles and showing the homelanders that not only do we care, but we will vote and punish local politicians that don't take our interests into account. The staff of the political campaign I mentioned in a previous paragraph is now aware that there is a strange middle-aged American lady in Versailles, France who is not only registered to vote (and wants to vote for their candidate) but cares enough to throw some cash their way. If enough of us do this, we can raise awareness and get our issues on the agenda. Local politicians in the U.S. may not understand why so many of us live abroad but they do understand two basic things: dollars and votes (in that order). If we can start speaking their language, perhaps we will finally get some traction for the things we care about.
My vote won't count because there are too few of us voting from abroad: Yes, the system is stacked against us in some ways since we have to vote in the last state we resided in and some say we lack effective representation. But instead of moaning about how ridiculous this is, let's look at the opportunities inherent in this rather perverse situation. Many elections these days in the U.S. are decided by an incredibly small margin. Have a look at this video produced by Democrats Abroad:
In all these races just a few votes made the difference. This means that even a small number of votes from abroad could have some serious consequences for the U.S. political scene in 2012. And think how much fun it would be if in 2012 the expat vote turned a few key races in the U.S. around and made some of those U.S. politicians that have been maligning us from their cushy Washington offices into very unhappy ex-senators and representatives.
I've tried to vote in the past from abroad and it's just too darn complicated: Meet the 2009 MOVE Act(Military and Overseas Voter Empowerment Act). It is now much easier to vote from abroad. How easy? Well, I tested it using this fine on-line overseas voter registration tool provided by the Overseas Vote Foundation and it was a no-brainer. Took me less than 15 minutes and a trip to my local post office. I was rewarded just a few weeks later when I received my official voter registration card from King County Elections in Renton, Washington, USA. Since then I have also received follow-up material asking me, among other things, if I would prefer to vote on-line or via mail (paper absentee ballot) from the comfort of my home here in Versailles, France. Not too shabby. So give it a shot and, if you are so inclined, think about making a contribution to the Overseas Vote Foundation. This is a non-partisan foundation that is devoted to one thing - making it possible for Americans abroad to vote in U.S. elections. They are good folks and deserve support for their efforts.
Last comment and this is a tough one that I've struggled with for years. Given that we do not live in the U.S. and many of us haven't darkened the doors of our supposed "states of residence" for years, is it moral for us to cast votes in local elections. After all, for the most part, we are not subject to the consequences of that vote. Obamacare could be overturned tomorrow, U.S. Social Security could be privatized in a few years, Federal money flowing to the states could be cut off or reduced, and the impact on me personally would be zero. I derive no benefits from any of the above though I do have family stateside that does depend on these things.
After a lot of reflection, this is my answer: If the United States of America is going to exert its sovereignty over us by requiring us to pay taxes and file reams of paperwork from abroad in order to comply with a byzantine tax code and onerous reporting requirements voted into law by those local politicians then, yes, Americans abroad have every right to vote in U.S. elections. Granted, our interests may diverge substantially from homelanders' interests but that fundamentally changes nothing.
We are U.S. citizens and if we are going to held to the responsibilities of that citizenship then we have the legal and moral right to get into the political game and vote for things we care about and for politicians who will advance our interests which are just as valid and important as any homelander's interests even if we haven't set one foot in the U.S. in the last 40 years. End of story.
Last week I went poking around in my archives - those boxes of old correspondence, photos and other memorabilia that have followed us over the years as we've moved from one continent to another. I was looking for an old family tree that was given to me before I left the States many years ago showing my ancestors (paternal line) going back to 18th/19th century Norway. I thought it would be fun to show the Frenchlings and, given the new French style of referring to women by their maiden names (I am always "Madame Reslock" at the hospital), the name is the object of some curiosity since "Reslock" is certainly not French, sounds vaguely European but no one I've met has been able to place it.
Lo and behold, as I was sorting though a mass of dusty old papers, I came across a few items from the very first job that I landed in Paris over 20 years ago. In retrospect, it was a much better job than I deserved. At that time I was fresh out of college, had limited French and knew very little about anything of consequence - in short a typical twenty-something young woman, newly married, very wet behind the ears, on the first real adventure of her life in Paris, France.
The organization I joined was an obscure NGO called the Committee on Space Research (COSPAR) which was part of the International Council of Scientific Unions (ICSU). COSPAR was very much a child of the Cold War. Founded in 1958 this organization was meant to be a relatively neutral forum for space scientists from all over the world to meet, exchange results and share information about a whole host of subjects related to space research. Its governing structure reflected the political realities of the time: there were two Vice-Presidents, one from the U.S. and one from the U.S.S.R. but the President was always elected from a third country like France or New Zealand. My role in all of this was quite modest - I was the Assistant to the Executive Secretary, Zdislaw Niemirowicz (Dzidek), and the Secretariat was based at ICSU headquarters on the Boulevard de Montmorency in the 16th district of Paris. Nonetheless, the job was fascinating. I was a huge fan of science fiction (Isaac Asimov, Robert Heinlein, C.J. Cherryh) so imagine my astonishment when I met scientists who were actually studying things that I thought were purely in the realm of the wildest futuristic fantasy: the solar wind, the geology of Mars, space biology, climate change. Just as good were the conversations I had with my boss Dzidek, an amazing man who lived through some of the most interesting (and sanguinary) events of 20th century Europe: World War II, the Warsaw uprising, and life behind the Iron Curtain in Poland before he was able to relocate to France with his family. There was even some travel involved since COSPAR held a conference every two years in some very interesting locales.
After a few years we once again decided that the grass was greener on the other side of the Atlantic and we moved on. But I still have some great memories of my time at COSPAR and I try to keep up with space exploration projects going on in Europe and other places. There is a lot more going on than one would imagine from reading the newspapers, watching the news and trolling the Internet. Space just isn't big news these days and perhaps that is understandable given the various crises that have people afraid for their jobs and governments agonizing over their national budgets. Still, it's sad that we have so little time or inclination these days to dream of the final frontier. And it's a bit short-sighted since our ultimate survival as a species may in fact depend on our getting off this damn rock one day. As Robert Heinlein once said, "The Earth is just too small and fragile a basket for the human race to keep all its eggs in."
Happily there are still scientist and engineers quietly working on it and making progress. Here is what ESA (European Space Agency) has on the agenda for 2012.
That is what is as we start the second decade of the 21st century. For one of the best reads about what could be, check out one of my all-time favorite science fiction novels, Downbelow Station by C.J. Cherryh.
I've been watching this very interesting debate unfold in the UK and French media.
A few days ago the new French President, Francois Hollande, announced a new tax on foreign-owned second homes something that has a direct impact on those who want to do the Peter Mayle thing part-time. This article in the Telegraph gives the particulars:
On Wednesday (July 4th), the French government announced it was to increase taxes on foreign-owned second homes. Tax on rental income would rise from 20 per cent to 35.5 per cent, and capital gains tax on property sales would rise from 19 per cent to 34.5 per cent. The extra in each case is being labelled a "social charge".
These taxes are in addition to the basic property taxes that everyone pays (residents and non-residents): the taxe fonciere (paid by the property owner) and the taxe d'habitation (paid by whoever occupies the property - renters or owners).
The Brits are not amused. The British government is likely to challenge it and the stories in the UK press have an interesting flavor exemplified by the title of the Telegraph piece, "Francois Hollande announces French tax grab on holiday homes." Tax grab? Interesting choice of words....
The French press (from what I have read) seems to be saying, "So, what's the problem?" This article from Le Figaro, Les Anglais en France peu inquiets d'une possible taxe (the English in France not really worried about a possible tax) shoots back by quoting British residents here who seem to be quite sanguine about the whole business and consider this a small price to pay to realize their French dream.
Who's right and who's wrong here? No clue. In the race for revenue, this is low-hanging fruit - it only impacts foreigners here who are not residents and cannot vote and it's likely to be very popular with the French public. I was struck by this comment in the Telegraph article, "The plummeting pound meant that the English had almost disappeared from the Dordogne house market. With this, it's as if they want to totally kill off the foreign home owner market in France." Well, not necessarily but it's clear from the various remarks I've heard over the years from friends and family here (French) that they are not entirely comfortable with the British invasion of small towns and villages in rural areas of the Hexagone.
As an American here I plan to stay out of it and watch the whole business unfold from the sidelines.
Should be interesting to watch - European tribal politics at their finest. :-)
I had my second round of chemotherapy late last week. The actual procedure went very well - I had the same nurse who is, in my humble opinion, a Goddess. I also had the pleasure of seeing some familiar faces and exchanging phone numbers and blog addresses. Solidarité in action.
The aftermath was something else. Tired right down to my bones. I've been in bed for the last few few days and was only able to get up and walk about for more than a few minutes yesterday.
Things are looking up this morning. I have more energy and was even able to tackle a few of the weeds in the Flophouse garden. Some of this may have to do with the daily injections I'm getting to boost my immune system. These are given by a certified nurse who comes to my house every morning. That's right, the care comes to me and it is all 100% covered by the national healthcare system.
I find this amazing but when I express this to my French friends and family, they reply, "Mais, c'est normal." My dear friends, I have lived in a world where such a thing isn't "normal" at all. And I cannot find the words to express (in either of my two languages) how grateful I am for this system, for the healthcare professionals who provide such competent compassionate care and for the French nation that supports it.
