Letters of Note

I recently subscribed to a site that is rapidly becoming one of my favorites.  It's called Letters of Note:  Correspondence Worthy of a Wider Audience.  Edited by Shaun Usher,  "Letters of Note is an attempt to gather and sort fascinating letters, postcards, telegrams, faxes, and memos."

Letter writing is becoming something of a lost art and that is a shame. Email is instant gratification but a letter is something that you can hold in your hand, pack into a box and look at years later.  And while I am not a believer in graphologie (or graphologists),  I can't help but think that they may be on to something when they say, "Ecrire c'est choisir de laisser une trace" (To write is to choose to leave one's mark). There is something about people's handwritten letters that is so personal and distinctive that I can't help but feel that "courriel" is a lesser medium.   Here, for example, is an extract from a letter I received recently from an elderly family member:

"Très chère Victoria,
Hier Mercredi, l'équipe de prière s'est réunie.
Nous ne sommes pas nombreuses, mais les prières sont simples et sincères. Tu as été au coeur de notre intercession ainsi qu'une dame, plus agée que toi, que nos amies du groupe connaissent, et qui, elle, est très atteinte d'un cancer des poumons..... Voici une prière que je trouve tres belle, ce sont des personnes du groupe qui l'ont donnée pour toi...
Souviens-toi que même si nous nous croyons seuls, notre Dieu d'Amour et de Liberté est toujours avec nous. Je t'embrasse très très fort...."

Could all of the above been said in an email?  Well, yes, but it wouldn't have been the same.  Her handwriting is exquisite and her grammar impeccable- she was a schoolgirl when World War II erupted in Europe.  Along with her letter, she included a medal which she had blessed at a chapel in Paris - just try to do that via an Internet connection.   The medal I placed in a small leather case along with the others, all of which were passed down to me from my Canadian-American Great Aunt George-Anne.  The letter, of course, goes into the Flophouse Archives.

Part of keeping the art of letter writing alive is to read the great correspondence of the past for inspiration.  To this end, Shaun Usher is doing us all a great service.  I need to get back to my painting but I'll leave you with a few links to some of my favorite letters on his site.  If you like my teasers and want to get a daily shot of great writing, just subscribe to Usher's Twitter feed here.

Older Mistresses are So Grateful!:  Benjamin Franklin giving advice about marriage and choosing a mistress.

To My Old Master:  Emancipated slave, Jourdon Anderson, explains a few things to his former master, Colonel P.H. Anderson.

DO NOT be So Bloody Vulnerable:  Relationship advice from Noel Coward to Marlene Dietrich.

This is My Son.  He Speaks Greek:  A letter to Ted Turner from his very angry father in response to  Turner's decision to study Classics at university. I think the final line of his father's letter is a classic:  "You are in the hands of the Philistines, and dammit, I sent you there. I am sorry."

Adventures at the U.S. Border

Once upon a time, for those of us with a U.S. connection, crossing the border into the U.S. was pretty straightforward.  I can even report that I have in the past been met with a hearty "Welcome home" in some U.S. airports (though never in Seattle where the weather seems to have made those immigration officials rather grumpy).   The only situation that's been a problem for us is whether or not we go through immigration as a family (one U.S. citizen, two dual nationals and one French citizen) or does my spouse get separated out and forced to go through the non-U.S. citizen line.  Depending on the airport, we've been yelled at for doing both and the policy concerning multi-national families does not seem to be consistent across the U.S.

With increased border control after 911, and now the zeal for catching tax evaders, there are other issues coming to light.  Those "Accidental Americans," for example, who the American government suspects are trying to slip across the border with a non-U.S. passport.  The rule is as follows:  if the U.S. claims you as a citizen, you must identify yourself as one at the border and use a U.S. passport to enter the country - something that greatly inconvenienced the Mayor of London, Boris Johnson.  This is true even if you don't consider yourself to be a U.S. citizen just because of an accident of birth (born in the U.S. or born abroad to one U.S. citizen parent.)

Now it looks like there is another hazard to having a U.S. connection.  The Tribune de Geneve is reporting that two adolescents from Switzerland, traveling without their parents to the U.S. to visit their grandparents, were detained and interrogated at the border for 6 hours about the activities of their father, an employee at a Swiss bank.  According to the article, the children were asked to answer questions like:

"Où est votre papa?" (Where is your father?)

"Que fait votre papa?" (What does your father do?)

"Votre papa vient-il parfois travailler aux Etats-Unis? (Does your father often come to work in the U.S.?)

The article also reports that during questioning the children were not allowed to contact their parents, their grandparents in the U.S. or the Swiss authorities.

Welcome to America, kids.

The Swiss are furious and rightfully so.  Whatever your opinion about the efforts to combat tax evasion, and whatever the alleged sins of the fathers (or mothers) in this affair, I think we can all agree that innocent children should be kept out of it.

Stories like these should make Americans in the homeland sit up and take notice.  Is this the face that America wants to show to the rest of the world?   Is the U.S. so desperate for information (and tax revenue) that it must resort to grabbing people's kids at the border for interrogation?  For those of you in the homeland reading this - do you really think this is acceptable "collateral damage" in the war against tax evasion?  

Because the question for those of us outside the U.S. is simply this:  Given that suspicion in the U.S. is rampant and the field of potential suspects is growing ever larger (U.S. citizens and Green Card holders abroad, foreign bank employees, former U.S. citizens, or simply anyone with a U.S. connection), are we now going to be obliged to take precautions to protect our children?

If so, then the easiest way to do that is simply to avoid the U.S. altogether.  Put those passports in a drawer, cancel that vacation, and tell the family living or working in the U.S. that if they want to see the kids, they are going to have to do so outside of U.S. territory.

The United States of America:  Not suitable for children under 18.

More True Stories from Abroad

One of the best parts of writing a blog is connecting with readers and other bloggers.  What you find here on the Flophouse is just one view of one emigrant and I don't have any particular truth or wisdom to impart to anyone.  I just like to tell stories and I'm fascinated by what other people have to say about the subjects I care about:  living outside one's home country, the emigrant/immigrant experience, citizenship and other diverse stuff.  And those people and their blogs take me in some interesting directions.

A few months I found this blog, Leaving America, by Ken Smith.  Ken is a semi-retired U.S. citizen who has lived in Denmark and France and is now living in Mexico.  Honestly, I didn't know a darn thing about Americans in that part of the world (other than a vague impression that there were a "few" of them there) until I started reading his blog.  He writes about a lot of things:  living in France (well worth reading because he came and went and now has some distance from his experience),  living in Mexico, book reviews, and other issues of interest to all of us who live outside our home countries like banking, taxes and expatriation and how to count with your fingers in a Francophone country.

I was perusing Ken's blog the other day and noticed that he had some posts about a fellow who I was not at all familiar with -  Joe Bageant.  How to describe this guy?  Well, he was from the U.S. (the South), described himself as a "redneck socialist" (for the Francophones among us - a socialist "plouc") but spent a fair amount of time outside the U.S. living in places like Belize and Mexico. He was a writer by trade and published a two books and many essays that got attention in quite a few countries, but not, alas, at home (The United States).  The books are Deer Hunting with Jesus:  Dispatches from America's Class War and Rainbow Pie: a Redneck Memoir.  He also wrote about living abroad and how his home country appeared to him from the outside looking in.  To get a taste for his style and his view of life outside the U.S.,  have a look at this essay, Escape from America or get a copy of Waltzing at the Doomsday Ball: The Best of Joe Bageant edited by Ken (the book I just finished).

Bageant's work is politically incorrect, lacks politesse, and he definitely had a few axes to grind.  I can almost guarantee that there is something in everything he ever wrote that will offend someone, somewhere.  But here is one thing he isn't:  he isn't mean or petty and it's clear that he deeply cared about where he came from and the people and places he encountered elsewhere. This isn't travel writing - these are what I call "true stories" about life and about the things that matter at home and abroad from a master storyteller.

Flophouse Project: The Buanderie and the Salle de Bain

My spouse was officially on vacation as of Friday night and ever since we've been thinking about how to spend the next few weeks.  Getting out of town is not a good idea given my condition but staying home and watching bad American action movies with French subtitles isn't very appealing either.  I, of course, have my books but that's a solitary activity. What, we asked ourselves, could we do together that would amuse both of us?

Answer:  DIY Home Improvement Project

We've lived in this Versailles apartment for about 5 years now.  The wallpaper and the paint weren't very nice to begin with, but in two rooms they have deteriorated to the point of being downright unbearable:  the laundry room and the bathroom.  Here is the "état des lieux."

Laundry Room (la buanderie):

For the record, this is the very first time I have ever had a laundry room.  In all of the other apartments we've rented in France the washing machine was located in the kitchen and we hung the clothes to dry in the bathroom.  What a luxury to have a space to put the machine, the soap, miscellaneous tools and the laundry (dirty and clean).  Last year a pipe broke upstairs and dirty smelly water came cascading down the walls before they were able to shut it off.  I mopped it up (and took a very hot shower after) but it stained and it looks terrible. On top of that there is dust and dirt and God knows what else on the walls.  This morning we removed everything but the washing machine and started washing it down with water and "javel" (bleach).  Here's the progress we made:

As I write this my spouse is busy upstairs spackling the cracks in the walls with plaster.  We'll let it dry tonight so we can start painting tomorrow morning.  (And for my mother who is probably reading this and having a heart attack - Mom, I am downstairs curled up on the couch reading and recuperating while your son-in-law works on the first floor.)

Bathroom (la salle de bain):

A bathroom in France is just that, the room with a sink, shower/bathtub and a "bidet."  The toilet is located in an adjacent room.  The paint wasn't too bad when we moved in but this is a room with no fan and no window so the paint is now peeling off the walls - loads of fun when you're taking a bath.  We also have a little mold problem which I have been trying to keep under control with straight bleach but I'm losing and it's winning.  Now, I know that I'm not the world's greatest housekeeper but even I draw the line at having things growing on the walls.  this room will be more work since we must wash the walls (yet again) and start scraping and sanding.  Here's what it looks like now:

I'd say we have 3-4 days worth of work ahead of us. We'll be taking it slow.  Not in a huge hurry here since the mold is still in the early stages of its Evil Plan for World Domination.

And at the end of the day when we're tired (but filled with a sense of accomplishment) we might just curl up on the sofa together to eat some well-deserved pizza in front of one of those really awful (but strangely satisfying) American action movies.  Vive Van Damme!

Going Places

“The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.” 
Dr. Seuss

I'm nearing the end of Chemo cycle #3 and preparing for Chemo Cocktail #4 which is next Thursday.   I've been pretty much confined to the house because I am "immunosupprimée" and the world is a dangerous place for me right now - catching a cold could land me in the hospital.   

I may not be able to get out into the world much but no matter because friends and family are bringing the world to me by recommending titles or by passing along books.  Last week I received no fewer than 4 books in the mail - some via Amazon and others from personal libraries.  Thank you all so much - my cup runneth over and some of the titles are just fascinating.  Between what came in the mail and the recommended reading I purchased and downloaded to my Ipad/Kindle,  I'd say I am set for the next month or so.  

Here's what is in the reading pipeline:

Citizenship and Those Who Leave edited by Nancy Green and Patrick Weil

Globalizing Migration Regimes edited by Kristof Tamas and Joakim Palme

Les Français:  portrait d'un peuple by Sanche de Gramont

The Holocaust Industry by Norman G. Finkelstein

Pourquoi le christianisme fait scandale by Jean-Pierre Denis

Une sociologue au Conseil constitutionnel by Dominique Schnapper

Comment je suis redevenu chrétien by Jean-Claude Guillebaud

Waltzing at the Doomsday Ball:  The Best of Joe Bageant edited by Ken Smith (just finished this one and am preparing a Flophouse review)

That is quite a lot of good reading.  Plus, for those days when "Chemo Brain" hits hard, I have trouble focusing, and I just want to be anywhere but in my own poisoned skin, I have been swapping lists of favorite Romance novels (littérature sentimentale) with friends here.  Yep, French women like this stuff too....

Bon weekend!

French Vacations

No, this is not a post about vacationing in France.  I'm just not competent to talk about it since the last time I came here as a tourist I was 22 years old.  I am now close to middle-age and have lived here for nearly 20 years.  You do the math.  These days "getting away from it all" means leaving France for other exciting locales like Belgium (or Brittany).

Here's a secret:  The best part of the long summer vacations in France (if you live here) is watching all your neighbors and co-workers leave so that you can have the city, the public transportation, the roads, the parks, and the apartment complex all to yourself.  Splendid isolation.  Peace and quiet.  Not having to stand up on the train/metro/tramway. No lines at the store. For a few short weeks the morning commute into Paris becomes bearable.  Only downside is that your favorite bar is likely to close for two weeks and you'll have to get your morning libation and tobacco somewhere else.

Are there other downsides?  Talking to people outside of France, folks sure seemed to be looking for them.  When I was working internationally for French multi-nationals and I would go out for a beer with the local teams after a long day of meetings, I would inevitably get all kinds of questions which I tried to answer to the best of my ability (which varied according to my level of sobriety).  Here are a few of them and my stone-cold sober responses:

With so much vacation how do you get anything done at work? (The productivity question.)

Does productivity suffer?  Not that I've noticed and I have empirical evidence to back that observation up.  You can find different statistics and country rankings on the Net but in all of them the French hold their own quite nicely.   Call it another "French Paradox" if you like, though there is nothing paradoxical about it at all when you think seriously about it.  Putting in more effort, working more hours, and having less vacation does not necessarily translate into higher productivity.  As James Ling put it, "Don't tell me how hard you work.  Tell me how much you get done."  The French get things done.

How does a French manager and her teams cope when people leave for 2-3 weeks at a time? (The organization question.)

 It's called a spreadsheet.  Team members let the manager know ahead of time when they would like to take summer vacation (July or August) and then it's up to you, the manager, to work it out.  Not too tough and, if I may be a little cheeky here, it's what you're paid for.  In one place I worked I had an international team spread across Asia, North America and Europe.  A little more complex but still entirely manageable by someone with an IQ greater than her shoe size.  We set up a shared spreadsheet with all the national holidays for each country and let team members fill in their vacation days.  It was my job to have a look at it from time to time to be sure we had everything covered (those regional datacenters did not run themselves).  A little perspective here. We had team members on that spreadsheet whose countries had labor laws giving them as many (if not more) days off (vacation and national holidays combined) than France.  It wasn't a problem and I never ever had to intervene anywhere to work out a scheduling issue due to people taking vacation.

Isn't it a pain to have the stores and shops closed for weeks at a time? (The inconvenience question.)

Oh, we muddle through quite nicely. The little shop down the street (the librairie) where you like to buy office and school supplies, or your favorite bakery (boulangerie) with those scrumptious baguettes, usually puts a note up beforehand on the door so you know when they'll be closed.  And then you just work around it.  Do you really need those staples now?  Is it such a hardship to make do with another bakery a little farther down the street?  And all the essential stuff is covered:  the doctors find temporary replacements, one pharmacy in town always stays open, and there is always at least one bar/bistro doing a brisk business for those who really really really need a drink after work.

Isn't 5+ weeks of vacation a bit over-generous in this day and age and isn't it a bit cheeky of the French to have so much time off when much of the rest of the world doesn't have that luxury? (The morality question.)

Ah, now we are getting somewhere.  Deep in the hearts of those who "tisk tisk" because the French have so much vacation, is (dare I say it?) envy and sense that there is something unfair about it all.  Come on, folks, that's just petty, and those who ask this question are really scraping the bottom of the barrel.  There are people in this world who work 7 days a week.  Do these people find something morally objectionable about the fact that you probably live in a country where you have Saturday or Sunday (or both) off?  Does having your weekends to yourself make you lazy?  It's all relative.

How work is organized in different countries is a function of several factors:  culture, economics, and the political and legal systems.  You need to look a lot closer than just X days of vacation and official work hours to be able to say something intelligent about how work and leisure time are allocated.  The French have a system that works for them, they (we) like it, and they've organized themselves in a way that suits them best.  Other people in other countries do the same.

An example?  Well, when I was running that multi-national team, it did not escape my notice that our U.S. offices were pretty much deserted after 5:00 in the late afternoon.  The majority of our American and Canadian employees worked strictly from 8 AM to 5 PM and not a minute more unless they were getting overtime.  Nothing wrong with that -  the North Americans had softball games, aerobics classes and other things to attend and they liked getting home early enough every day to spend time with their families.  In the French offices most of the teams were still there at 7 or 8 PM and they were not getting any overtime.  They liked spending time with their families just as much, but they preferred large blocks of time (days or weeks) as opposed to little chunks (hours) every day.  Fair enough and to imply that any of these people were "slacking off' is just ridiculous.

Do you have anything negative to say about French vacations? (The "It's too good to be true" question.)

Yes, the fact that I had to answer all these questions and vigorously defend the honor of my French teams, when all  I really wanted to do was to enjoy the end of a long day by people watching in a working man's bar in Tokyo.  So much for my leisure time. :-)

Serving Overseas Voters - Doing It Right

Yesterday I sent off my ballot for the primary election in my home state in the U.S.  For those U.S. citizens abroad who have tried to vote in the past and found it to be a frustrating and fruitless endeavor, this year I urge you to give it another shot.  For citizens abroad from other countries who also vote in home country elections, it might be interesting to compare experiences.  Please note, however, that the U.S. has 50 different voting systems for its "domestic abroad" and it all depends on what U.S. state that citizen calls "home."   So this is just my experience with one state out of 50, The State of Washington - a little state on the U.S. West Coast tucked up there on the border with Canada.

My starting point was the Overseas Vote Foundation.  I used their wizard to answer a few simple questions and got a printable packet of documents that I then mailed to the government agency in the U.S. responsible for handling these requests for my voting district.

In a few short weeks, I received a new voter registration card in the mail at my Versailles address. A few weeks after that I got a mail from them that asked me how I would like to receive my ballot (paper copy or on-line).  I asked for a paper ballot but it didn't seem to have been taken into account because, although I have been watching for it in the mail, it didn't come.  With the date for the primary fast approaching, I was wondering what do.

In the end, I didn't have to do anything.  They contacted me.  Here is the email I received - a gentle reminder that said:

Dear VICTORIA FERAUGE:
The deadline to return your ballot for the 2012 Primary Election is fast approaching and we have not yet received your ballot.  You must submit your ballot packet on or before 8 p.m. (PT) Election Day, August 7, 2012, for your vote to be counted!
You can go online to access King County’s secure electronic ballot delivery system where you may log in, mark, and print your ballot packet.

So I did as they suggested. I logged on, filled out my ballot using their very nice, user-friendly on-line interface, printed it out, signed it, scanned it and sent off the .pdf this morning.  Green.  Done.

Outstanding!

I sent along a Thank You note with my ballot.  Hey, when you catch people doing something right, it's important to say so.  This was better than "right" - it was perfect.  I'd like to say again (publicly) to King Country Elections that they did a really fine job this year making life easier for us overseas voters who want to participate and have a voice in homeland politics.

Now, that is my experience with my state's election officials.  It's likely to be a bit different in other U.S. states.  Nevertheless, there is progress and if you are a U.S. voter you may be pleasantly surprised this year.

So give it a try and register.  Americans abroad have a few issues on the table right now and this is one way we can make those issues known and put pressure on homeland politicians to sit up and pay attention.