French Culture / Being a Minority

Although this didn't happen this week, I did have a lot of time to think about things and this moment came into my head. When I was treated as a minority. And learning about French culture and how at first, they are not very friendly if you do not speak their language etc. My thoughts on this moment came from last night, but the action happened a couple weeks ago. I still count that as "this week" though, because this is when it all dawned on me.


Gym Class Hero
As I leave the Chateau de Pourtales, I do not what to expect at all. This will be my first time out without anyone. Something that can be hard for anyone, inclusive of myself. I start the long walk from my home away from home, sweatshirt on, hood up, and my iPod blaring music to get me excited for my first moments in ESpace Gym in the center of Strasbourg city.
I have been there before, but never to lift. I just went with a couple of my friends to get my I.D. badge and register with their only employee that spoke a little English. That day took about half an hour. With my broken French and her broken English, we created some very humorous moments for those trying to get a workout in before work or before dinner.

I reach the bus station and look at the sign to see when the next bus would come. A 20-minute wait and I was on my way. It was weird sitting on the bus alone with people speaking only French around me. I felt powerless. I felt that I couldn’t do anything. A woman has already yelled me at in French because my French is nowhere near perfect. I pride my self in my ability to speak Spanish, but French is not a strong point.

As I reach Arête Observatoire, I get off my lonely and long bus ride to catch a tram to my gym. The tram was absolutely packed. I am wearing a backpack and am one of the only people doing so. I felt even more out of place. I was also wearing clear American style- Abercrombie and Fitch, Oakley sunglasses… I was not feeling like I belonged. The whole ride to Homme d’Fer was awkward. Many of the people were staring at me as I jostle from side to side, not knowing when the tram was turning or making stops. It was embarrassing and made me feel like I should just turn back. I was more than halfway there, so I had to continue on.

I make it to the gym, and have yet to speak a word of any language. I was completely immersed into my iPod. I walk up the stainless steel stairs and was greeted very friendly at the desk by the ESpace staff. I hand them my card and go to the locker rooms, which were also very different compared to back home and the gyms there. Europeans have a completely different view of the human body and aren’t ashamed of changing, basically, in the wide open. This was a shock to me. In the United States, many of the views are that of your body should be kept covered and “safe”.
I walk out to the gym and look into the mirror. I’m wearing clothes that no one else at the gym was. Almost all of the people at the gym were wearing long training pants made by brands such as Puma or Adidas. No one, on my first day, was wearing shorts and a light t-shirt like I was. They paid attention to their appearance, unlike what I was. As you can imagine, I was not feeling very good about myself. I felt completely isolated from everyone. I could not speak their language, dressed differently, did different exercises, and was not social like all of the French who were there. The only really good part of all of this was that I got a decent lift in. Everyone once in a while, someone would walk up to me and ask if I was done with whatever I was using at that point in time. I would look at them, fake a smile, and give them thumbs up and point to whatever. I would put my fake French accent on and say, “Go for it,” like my friend, Jagat, does.

Some of the guys there thought me as a comedic topic for their conversations. I could easily tell they were making fun of something I was doing. It wasn’t hard to notice the subtle looks, points, and laughing coming from the different corners of the gym. From my first experience, I really didn’t know if I wanted to continue my training at ESpace. I persisted and came back a couple more times before I was complete accepted by the French bodybuilders. It wasn’t the smaller people that befriended me; it was the bigger, more socially “picky”. That really made me feel good and want to continue to come. Every time I go in, smiles, hugs, and high-fives that I taught them back home greet me. And when I leave? Laughter engulfs the gym as the bodybuilders shout, “Expendables! Stallone! You get them Mr. New Hampshire-Chase!” That always makes me feel
good.

All in all, I would do it again. The experience of being completely isolated from everyone and that feeling of being a minority was hard, but very good from a learning perspective. I can now relate better to people who are treated badly just because of their skin color or accent, because I was too. It is hard.