Folks, I did it. I finally found an American novelty shop.
I had heard rumors of such a place from the other Americans I know here. We’ve all been jonesing for something or another from back home; Jackson misses Chik-fil-A sandwiches, Madison and Connor miss Mexican food, I miss cool ranch Doritos, and so on. This store did not have those things, but it was a wonderland anyway.
The place sells snapbacks, jerseys for basketball teams, “American donuts,” a decent selection of condiments, and a variety of bizarre American candies that haven’t been in circulation since the Reagan administration. It reminded me of a five-and-dime store in Gatlinburg. I grabbed a box of Poptarts (only one flavor, chocolate), a bottle of Hidden Valley ranch, teriyaki beef jerky, and — get this — a Gatorade.
This was a huge surprise since Gatorade is illegal in France. I think the government technically classifies it as a poison. I have no idea how this store managed to have it in stock, but they only had a single bottle. I snatched it up.
I noticed while I paid that a very familiar object sat behind the register. A slushie machine! Of course I got a cherry slushie, of course, of course. Oh man, that first sip had me feeling like I was standing in a Weigels parking lot. I was transported. It was a little too sweet, and tasted a little too much like actual cherries and not enough like corn syrup, but I was too jazzed about it to care.
See, stuff like this is one of my favorite parts of long-term travel. Experiencing the new and the strange is all well and good if you don’t have much time, but if you have a few weeks or months to really sink your teeth into a city, you must discover how that place thinks of you.
There is no clearer window into a local mindset than to look through their eyes at yourself. Conversely, there is no better way to understand your own culture than to take a massive step back. This shop told me so much without saying anything at all. It told me what French people expect of Americans, from our flavor palettes to what we wear.
This is why I have no problem with Americans going to McDonald’s in Paris. It isn’t the same! It is a new learning experience! I highly recommend going to KFC in France just to get an idea of what the French think fried chicken is. This is the sort of cultural education I live for.
Even if everything was way overpriced.
Cordialement,
Allison
Flan in France 