Anomaly - That's Me!

Within my travel experience I have become accustomed to standing out. I make an effort to assimilate, speak some of the language, learn the layout of the streets, but there is only so much one can do befor some ingrained habit (or accent, or physical trait) betrays one's foreignness. In Senegal and Haiti, it was normal for people to call out "toubab" or "blanc" after anyone with white skin. It wasn't offensive to hollar on the street, but it did force me to accept curious stares.

I would be flattering myself to say I attract special attention here in France, but I am often the odd one out. The French have seen enough of the world, and enough foreigners in their corner of it, to be generally uninterested by accents. Indifference doesn't equal acceptance, and I'm coming to terms with what it is like to be the only American in a small, isolated French town. Honestly, I am the ONLY American in this city.

The other night I went out for a quiet beer, by myself, at the only bar open on Mondays. I went to celebrate St. Patrick's day, and discovered quickly that I was the only one toasting that Saint. The bartender told me that they don't celebrate it because there are no Irish people in that region, but they all drink beer everyday and didn't need an excuse that night. Fine by me. It's not that anyone knew why I was there anyway, but my mere feminine presence was an anomaly. I was the only woman in the bar and the only 20-something. I got a few curious stares from the old men and teenage boys, but they left me alone, true to French indifference. After two beers, which I'm ashamed to say made me surprisingly tipsy, I swerved back home, happy I'd done right by my Irish roots.