The Washington times., 1935-09-27
NOW
U.S.Expatridtes
Lonely in Paris
NO ROMANCE
BY HELEN ESSARY
PARIS.

BY HELEN ESSAN1
PARIS.
The American expatriate in
Paris has a thin time.
Not physically. When he has
the money to keep him from
starving on the high rate OF
exchange, he can fatten up his
long Yankee legs on the gor-
geous food and drink that makes
Monsieur, the Parisien, COM
placent and a little top-heavy.
It is the robust spirit of the
American that flattens out to
a paper thinness after living a
year or two in the disillusion'
ing French capital.
The American in Paris is des-
perately lonely. He is unappre'
ciated. SnHbbed. On guard,
always.
He knows he is tolerated only
If he is "reech."
You seldom see an American
expatriate laugh-laugh out loud
in that carefree, raucous way
he does "back home" He fears
that while he is laughing some
Frenchman will put something
over on him. And some French
man will.
The American in Paris knows
he is an outsider. He talks
about the "joie de vivre." About
culture and beauty. But in his
heart he'd change the Place
Vendome, Place de la Concorde'
Notre Dame Cathedral, and the
splendor of Versailles for lit
tie honest-to-g goodness American
straightforWardness and warmth.
The American in Paris always
knows he's going to be roooed
unless he's careful.
If he has money, If he Is
"reech" (you hear the word a
dozen times a day when an
American is mentionedO, "he
can have a palace"
"If he is pOOr-nOn, we do not
want him. 1t is only his money
we like. Let him go home"
The young American student
looking for the education that
he could have got in his own
colleges and schools has a pretty
bleak time in Paris.
If he is scratching along in a
garret, he finds bare room
four flights up a dirty stair is
more romantic in La Boheme"
than in real life.
If he is living respectfully in
one of the large clubs or "foun'
dations" provided for young
Americans, he is protected, per-
haps too closely, from the ad-
ventures which he pawned
grandma's heirlooms to find.
Moreover. the youngster who
hoped to escape from the "bore-
dom of America" can't find
much amusement in group of
fifty or sixty young creatures
who, like himself, wait daily
for a letter or a present from
home. Or type, shop, and run
errands for American tourists
In order to live until hesitating
remittance checks arrive.
In addition to these American
expatriates who have some legit-
innate reason-a job or the pur.
suit of culture-for living in
Paris, there is the American
who lives principally by his or
her wits.
This type of expatriate is
often a woman. She will take
you to the expensive shops.
She will lead you to a famous
restaurant. You pay the bill
in both cases. And she gets
the commission.
: She knows about all the
Right People and their behind
the7scenes behavior. But the
Right People seldom know
about her. She doesn't belong
in Paris. But she hasn't the
courage to go back home.
Catch any one of this crowd
Of American expatriates-resi-
Dental Americans, they call
themselveS-catch him in an
honest, homesick moment after
the third brandy fin"
And he'll confess he'd love
to be a part once again of a
town full of those noisy, bound
ing Americans of "The States"
He would like to have as a next
door neighbor back in Syracuse
that very fellow for whom he
apologized during the tourist
Season-the American like you
and me, of whom he blushingly
said:
"Oh, he's not the real Amer.
lcan,"