Salut, tout le monde! I cannot believe how much time has already passed since I arrived in Grenoble over three weeks ago. I am excited to say that my French is improving quite a bit (though I still have a long way to go before I am fluent), and I have already developed relationships with individuals that I look forward to cultivating in the coming years. This is not to mention that I have fallen in love with the French Alps and familiarized myself a good deal with the surrounding landscape. Aside from developing my language proficiency, these were two of my biggest goals, and I am feeling quite fortunate that they are ones that I have been lucky enough to reach.
There are several similarities and differences that I have observed between French and American culture, and it is difficult for me to choose which to focus on in this post. Given my own interests, I thought I would spend this post sharing some thoughts on the way French individuals approach mountain sports in ways similar to and different from Americans. This appears to me as one among many useful lenses to understand broader cultural attitudes. From conversations with museum staff (specifically, an active member of the French mountain troop), fellow hikers, hut keepers and climbers at alpine refuges, and people I have met through class and around the city, I have heard first hand that the mountains (and outdoors, in general) are by and large beloved here and a major source of national, local, and individual pride. I have observed this first hand, too. On my commute to school each day, I see hundreds of people biking up the hills adjacent to town. And on the weekends, I encounter hundreds of people at alpine huts and/or on the trail to them. Reading trail signs, alpine magazines, and advertisements around town, it is clear that the mountains feature heavily in political, cultural, and even religious discourse in Grenoble.
It is this last part that I am most interested in and hope to further explore for the rest of the summer and back at Notre Dame. On the one hand, almost all of the churches that I have visited and/or attended mass at feature mountains in their bulletins or publicize hiking clubs for the spiritual development of young adults. On the other, the mountains appear to take on spiritual meaning for a lot of people here that not only supplements but also replaces attending church. I have found a strong (albeit small) Catholic community where I am living, but most people my age seem to recreate outside instead of church on Sundays.
I actually had the chance to visit Chamonix, France this past weekend and witnessed a scene that embodied this reality. During and after mass at the Paroisse Saint Bernard du Mont-Blanc, I could hear the cheers and announcements from the Mont Blanc trail marathon occurring in the streets outside as I listened to the liturgy of the mass. Almost all of the people in mass with me were over age 40, whereas the people outside cheering for and running in the race were predominantly around my age. Surely, some of them have their own religious affiliation (and perhaps were even Catholic), but I thought the scene was a symbolic and interesting one. It also reminded me just how complicated the search for higher meaning can be.
As the bells from the Church blended with the bells from the race and the priest stood 20 feet away as competitors crossed the finish line, I found myself reflecting on the mystery of my faith as well as the mystery of my passion for running in the mountains. It is still quite a bit beyond me why I (and thousands of other individuals) enjoy spending all day pushing our bodies climbing up and running down thousands of feet; and it is still very much a mystery how God makes himself present to each of us in the Eucharist. But the reality of both, I think, is telling. Just like in the States, there are a bunch of different people in France who hold a bunch of different beliefs and search for truth in a variety of different ways. Some share the zeal for the mountains that I have observed in Grenoble and Chamonix. Some hold religious convictions that lead them to devote more of their time to worship in church, the mosque, or the temple. Still others––myself included––combine the two. In short, it is complicated! One thing seems clear, though: in the mountains or elsewhere, Catholic or not, people in both France and the United States appear to share a common desire to seek meaning and explore the mystery of this life.
In this sense and others, I have been struck by the similarities between France and the United States. The zealous outdoor and eco-friendly culture reminds me of several of the communities I have lived in in the Rocky Mountain West. Importantly, too, getting to know and be a part of the Catholic community here reminds me that even language differences cannot separate those who share the same faith.
I also have a lot more questions about the cultural dimensions of both countries. For example, whose perspectives are and are not being reflected in the Hofstede scores? How was the data gathered and what biases were implicit in that process? I am excited to learn more about this going forward.