As the Editor and Publisher of Paris Woman Journal, I get a lot of questions about living in
Paris. Recently the subject has turned to France's role in the debate over the threatened war between the United States and Iraq.
Most expressively, the questions come at the curiosity of my being an American
in Paris during this time. How are we expatriates holding up over here? Are the French mistreating us, now that
they officially hate us? What about all the French Muslims, do they give us
dirty looks and hurl anti-American slogans at us? In other words, are we OKAY?
Mind you, I wouldn't have given much personal thought to the subject had I not just
returned from my first visit to Tunisia, a Muslim country. I traveled there with my young son, Kenny, and the experience
has had such a profound affect on me that I now feel obligated to share my own
unique perspective on Americans, Muslims and the French.
It was hard, at first, to begin writing about my thoughts of the Tunisian people.
As stated, this was my first visit to a Muslim nation and I did not know what
to expect. One thing I can say is that I most certainly did not anticipate the
treatment we received. It's not what you think, as the warmth and smiles of the
people remain with me still. To say I was deeply touched by the people is an
understatement, as during our trip we were welcomed and appreciated without
hesitating. It didn't matter where we are from, who we knew or our profession,
the people just smiled and stared.
At first we were put off by this reaction, as staring can be such an antagonizing act. But
staring can also be the act of true admiration, which we eventually understood
was the case as, with each encounter, when people learned we were Americans,
instead of registering anger and suspicion, they enthusiastically asked,
"Which state...Texas?" When we said that we were in fact from California,
they gave us even bigger, lovelier smiles and said, "California is great!"
After about the one hundredth time of this (and on the first day, mind you), I felt overwhelmed
by the two basic ingredients that define human relationships – communication
and acceptance. Nowhere was this more evident to me than while watching my son,
Kenny, play with children from all over the world. Children just inherently
know the one thing that we Westernized adults often forget: how to interact
with others honestly and without expectations. Perhaps that is why it's so easy
to make the Muslim people appear childlike and helpless on your local American
nightly news broadcast. Because their ancient beliefs dictate a far different
kind of leadership than ours, when compared to our modern dogmas, they
regularly appear uninformed and in need of saving.
go to page 2...
