Keeping Up

For expatriate Americans in France, many of whom came simply to live an individual Sylvia FitzHemingway Parisian fantasy, there was a time not so long ago when keeping up with the news was serious, time-consuming business. Quite a bit of effort had to be devoted to maintaining one's awareness and understanding, one hoped, of current events. The French popular press (Le Parisien Libéré, France-Soir) covered US and international news, after a fashion, but lack of fluent French reading skills certainly limited the time one could - and would - spend poring over Le Monde's or L'Aurore's turgid prose. The young expat, usually désargenté and with better things than a newspaper to spend money on, such as food and lodging, would invariably find workarounds.

One of them consisted simply of going over to the rue de Berri, if the weather permitted. For years, the New York Herald Tribune's Paris Edition published from those premises. As soon as the most recent version came off the rotaries, the pages were posted up on the outside of the building, behind thick glass at eye level. One could spend as long as one liked perusing the headlines, taking notes from the wantads, checking the latest sports scores ... and encountering other Americans. That pavement was one of the unofficial American expat meeting points in Paris, mentioned only in memoirs and rarely in guidebooks. This lasted until the born-again and subsequently renamed International Herald Tribune decided to rationalize production and move to Neuilly-sur-Seine.

Another workaround was a stop at the mythical American Center for Students and Artists, on the boulevard Raspail. The library on the first floor had subscriptions to various American papers: the Trib was available every day - as were many daily and weekly French papers. Other icons of the American press, such as the Christian Science Monitor and the New York Review of Books, came by boat mail and were ready for reading on demand. Sometimes a visit to the Centre Culturel Americain, on the rue du Dragon or to the Ben Franklin Library in the Place de l'Odéon turned out to be profitable. In a pinch, a visit to the American Library in Paris would always enable one to catch a glimpse of the American press - and of the business-oriented, three-button-suited expat community, those individuals and families who could pay the annual membership fees or persuade their company to cough up for them.

In Paris, there was only one TV station - and four FM stations, all state owned and operated. There were also the radios peripheriques (Europe 1, RTL, Radio Monte Carlo), semi-private stations operating under governmental charter. In common with the French press, their coverage of US news was sparse, not to say nonexistent - and they were all in French. So, comfortably ensconced in a sixth-floor walkup chambre de bonne (for Amerloque, too, lived his Paris fantasy), one learned the power of international radio, and took advantage of it. One spent an hour or so working on one's French language skills. Then one gave oneself up to the pleasure and frustration of shortwave radio.

The Voice of America, Radio Free Europe (RFE), and Radio Liberty could be depended on for the official Washington view, while the BBC and the English broadcasts of Radio Suisse International, and Radio Canada would give the counterpoint. The powerful Radio Moscow, Radio Havana, Radio Tirana and a multitude of Eastern European stations offered the Soviet-bloc approach. One could evaluate international tensions by the change in the number and intensity of Soviet-bloc radio jamming signals: a jammed RFE program in Hungarian or Polish, usually clearly received, meant that international events were on the boil. (Frequently, such jamming increased before a geopolitical move. The Soviet invasion of Prague in 1968 was hardly a surprise to those who had noticed that jamming of RFE programs had suddenly increased.)

What of sports, however ? Where in the world could the intermittently-homesick young longhaired American expat, still adapting to French life and learning the language, listen to a baseball game, a football game, or a horse race ? Not read about it, but hear ? At the American Legion post on the rue Pierre Charron ? Harry's Bar ?

Why, on that radio, of course. Very late at night, if the atmospheric conditions were right, one could tune to medium wave and locate an Armed Forces Radio station broadcasting from a base in Belgium or, more usually, Germany. One could hear a Dodgers/Giants game, an NFL Game of the Week, or ... the Kentucky Derby, that most traditionally American of sporting events. One could - and did - thrill to Hank Aaron's hits, Johnny Unitas' TD passes, and Northern Dancer's win.

Times change. In Paris, Dragon and Franklin/Odeon no longer exist, nor does the American Center, swept away by speculation and, more generally, by modern life. The American Legion Post on rue Pierre-Charron is now a hotel. The Cold War is over. One listens to the radio stations of Eastern Europe for genuine news, not propaganda - although sometimes it's a close call indeed. Radio Suisse International has ceased broadcasting in shortwave and is now internet based. The Herald Tribune has become part of the corporate press: its ill-informed Paris "correspondents" now deliver politically correct, carefully expurgated views and stories, far removed from the realities of France and the French people.

Yesterday, with a few clicks and a zap or two on satellite/cable TV, Amerloque watched the Preakness Stakes live, en direct. He watched Scrappy T and Kentucky Derby winner Giacomo beaten by the remarkable Afleet Alex. He then went onto internet and clicked into a baseball game. No radio needed, anymore, although as a polychronic medium it's still very nice to have around.

The news and sports are right there on internet, for the asking, whether one is rich or poor. The trick is choosing the news one wants to read and hear, rather than relying on someone else's choice. Times have indeed changed, n'est-ce pas ?


L'Amerloque

Text © Copyright 2005 by L'Amerloque