Parlez vous anglais?: The American Tourist and the Language Barrier

On Friday, October 2nd of last year, millions logged in to Netflix with the highest of hopes. It was the day that the long-awaited Emily in Paris was set to hit the streaming world, a new series poised to marry the undying charm of Funny Face with the gritty chic of The Devil Wears Prada, complete with the sexy drama of a Gossip Girl, for good measure. The promise of this “An American in Paris” tailored to the needs of the Instagram age had everyone buzzing. The series had everything going for it, too. Under the guise of Darren Star, one of the minds behind some of the most fundamental texts of the millennial generation—Sex and the City, 90210—this American-girl-in-a-Paris-world had all the makings of a sharp, cutting edge addition to this resume. And with Patricia Fields in the costume department—Sex and the City, The Devil Wears Prada--fashion heads were also curious to see what the series had in store (though it’s unlikely that anything could rival Devil’s style montage scene alone).

But oh, how the mighty can fall so fast. One has to wonder just what the French did to deserve Emily in Paris in the first place. Forget white savior complex, this show ushered in a uniquely American savior complex. Emily Mitchell, a plucky, perky Chicago marketing exec, is sent over to her company’s Paris office to bring—as she never lets anyone forget—an “American perspective”. But while her stars and stripes ambitions are clear, Mitchell neglects to acknowledge the language barrier, seemingly not even seeing it as a barrier.

A very stunned Emily quickly realized just how grave this language barrier will be. Toto, I don’t think we’re in Chicago anymore. Photo from Untapped Cities.

A very stunned Emily quickly realized just how grave this language barrier will be. Toto, I don’t think we’re in Chicago anymore. Photo from Untapped Cities.

She arrives at her new French office and greets her new French coworkers in English, even stunned when her boss approaches her with a French greeting. Moi? Speak French? Tres tres difficult. What ensues is nothing short of a désastre: from marching around the office with a translating app to even going as far to declare the French language as “seriously f*cked up”, Emily quickly makes a name for herself for all the wrong reasons.

Nothing screams “I’m a local” quite like a red beret, right? Photo from Variety.

Nothing screams “I’m a local” quite like a red beret, right? Photo from Variety.

With an often cliched plot and a wardrobe bordering on satirical (the beret, really?)—it was clear for many that Emily in Paris would not be reserving a place in the cultural zeitgeist for very long, instead better-suited for the binge-watching diets of the moment only to be forgotten come Monday morning. And while many were mortified at the dual holier than thou and more American than thou ways of Emily Mitchell, it begs the question as to why. Is she the manifestation of preposterous stereotypes of Americans on foreign soil, or rather a reflection into even just a crevasse of truth?

 ‘Merica, right?

Families on holiday in the Cayman Islands, a favorite hotspot for American tourists in search of more R&R rather than culture. Photo from Cayman Compass.

Families on holiday in the Cayman Islands, a favorite hotspot for American tourists in search of more R&R rather than culture. Photo from Cayman Compass.

Sure, starting work in a brand new country without even a lick at the local language is an absurd example to go off of. Many of us would at least try to cover the basics ahead of day one, maybe a handful of greetings, the necessary questions, all that. But what about as tourists? When we’re gearing up to go on holiday, be it along the shores of the Caribbean or on the cobblestones of Florence, how often do we actually do the legwork to acclimate ourselves with anything cultural?

This archetype of the bold and brazen American abroad is far from new and far from being a stretch. Common understanding and research alike tell us that the United States is a proud contrarian in nature, a hotbed for individualism and indulgence where average Joe’s and CEOs alike resist power structures. We’re a nation of free will, free mind, and an endless wealth of questioning the status quo, and with that comes a certain sense of entitlement. Born and bred in the Revolutionary days, American exceptionalism is the common thread that carries beyond our own borders, this notion of our country ‘tis of thee being the best that ever was, and ever will be. And when you’re the best, why give any thought to the rest?

Tu hablas ingles?

By far, the vast majority of Europe far surpasses the United States in mandating language learning for young students. Chart from Pew Research.

By far, the vast majority of Europe far surpasses the United States in mandating language learning for young students. Chart from Pew Research.

The simple fact is that being an American comes at a cost. Just as our unique brand of exceptionalism follows us across international lines, so does our complex reputation in the eyes of foreign onlookers. Stepping into the always troublesome world of foreign policy, our unique brand of interventionism and moral policing is not a popular one. At its most basic, though, one might say that our reputation often precedes us when it comes to the language question. You know, the Emily in Paris effect—the wide-eyed red-blooded Patriot expecting everyone else to bend to the knee upon a request for English. Sound familiar?

That’s because it’s pretty much how we do things here. Reports show that the vast majority of major European countries require their students to take at least one year of study to learn a new language, if not two. By contrast, the American education system has no national mandate for language learning. Surprise, surprise. So while the rest of the world is fully equipped to answer our “Which way is the Eiffel Tower?” or “How long is the line for the Vatican?”, we may not often be as ready to mind our most basic p’s and q’s in their native tongue.

Flipping the script

It’s particularly easy for us as Americans to neglect the same zealousness or fire for language, as it’s simply become custom to expect English wherever we go. More often than thought, locals can spot us from a mile away and are primed to respond accordingly, whether this be from our khaki shorts, Lily Pulitzer dresses, or Polo shirts. But living in a world that accepts accommodation can often prevent us from seeing what we miss out on, namely with language.

 Language is often such an integral part of a nation’s culture, a rhythmic breath of life that gives rise to its nuance, its past, and its present. Taking the time to learn it opens a whole new door as a traveler. Locals may be more open and accepting, even appreciative of the fact that someone actually took the initiative to go that far. This inspires connection: what was once a quick greeting in passing may now turn into a conversation, a moment with someone who appreciates an outsider learning their native tongue. Given the extent to which we’ve normalized adapting to English, locals are also often accepting of errors, even eager to correct in the name of helping you learn, because far too often many don’t.

What language provides is the key to unlocking a whole new realm of travel possibilities, to experiences that are more self-reliant, more connecting, more genuine, and with the potential to be more rewarding. All from just a few basic phrases and the will to use them.

Challenging the paradigm

There’s a scene in Emily in Paris where Emily is actually questioned outright about having not learned French before her arrival—you know, the question we were all wondering. To that, she chuckles, gives a shrug, and replies, “Fake it till you make it.” It’s a tongue-in-cheek quip that’s all too representative of the American tourist, residing firmly in the throes of ignorant bliss in all corners of the world stage. But if our discomfort watching Emily Mitchell stumble through Parisian society should tell us anything, it’s that it may be high time for us to challenge this notion. Why accept a world of default, where English is an expectation and an accommodation instead of creating a space in which language is shared, explored, and celebrated? Why stick with the status quo when it’s clear we’ve outgrown its borders?

Reentering the world of travel, there’s something to be said for viewing the world through a different lens, maybe even a more intentional one. Rather than take our second chance at tourism for granted, this may actually be a moment to consider just what we want to get out of it in general, a more mindful approach to the standards of travel past starting at the root of the culture— language itself.

Case in point, in a world of Emily’s in Paris, dare to be something more. It may just be worth your time.

 

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TravelJohn Snow