Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: Josh Joplin - "Camera One"
The majority of my time here is naturally spent working hard at the Mission and what an experience it has been. As my internship will be wrapping up in less than two weeks, I think it’s time to relate some of my experiences within the French bureaucracy.
Now, I’m sure some maybe wondering how being an American in a French office has worked out. On my second day in January, I was pretty petrified. My French was quite rusty and I was afraid I would be thrown out. Down the hall is a blonde women named Marrion who heads the “juridique” or legal dept. When Alex introduced me, I said, “Bonjour, je m’appelle Steven.” I said my name in English so she looked up at me. “Tu n’es pas français?” “Moitié” (half) I replied. She then started saying “oh, okay, normally we only take French interns, but okay.” Alex added, “Well, we took that German girl awhile back.” “Yes, but her mother was French.” I then replied, “Well, so is mine.” I can tell you on my second day, this was the last thing I needed to hear. Alex cheered me up afterwards, but from that point on, I’ve introduced myself as Stephan. Now, towards the end, my English has proven an asset rather than a liability. I’m the go to guy for a number of things. My boss comes to me to explain terms like ‘plain vanilla.’ I also translated and polished a presentation he had to give to a bunch of PBOC officials. One of the Chinese staff who works with Karen has recruited me to conduct English interviews of over 25 Chinese interpreters. I get to sit across the table, look at their resume, and then ask questions. It’s awesome. I’m used to being the nervous guy in the interview. Now I am the master. Alex was joking with me, saying that if an interpreter is pretty, I should try to get a dinner date out of it. I had a better idea. Look each of them in the eye and ask with a straight face, "Are you now or have you ever been a member of the communist party?" I may get into trouble for that one... Also, for the first two months here, I said little and tried not to stick out as “the American.” These days, I throw around English all the time and embrace my redneck heritage. Of course, this has in turn caused Paul, my roommate and coworker, to give me a hard time. His favorite thing these days is to go, “wow, look at the dollar today. So when I go to Oklahoma, I can buy a car for like 50 euros right?” I should note that Paul will be spending a year on exchange in Oklahoma City and is thrilled by the prospect of seeing tornadoes.
Most of my work has been rather tedious but very interesting. For three weeks, I worked with excel tables in order to compile lists of which countries and businesses the Chinese have the most contact with. Right now, I’m putting together details of major Chinese IPOs and how those stocks have done since their debut.
A problem I still have is I miss little details and quips in the conversations around me at work. As French is not my first language, I can tune it out as I work until it become a pleasant background noise. Thing is, sometimes Anne-Marie who sits in front of me will turn and go, “Eh, qu’est-ce que tu penses Steven?” Having no idea what the conversation is about, I just smile and say something stupid like, “Yeah, I don’t know, that’s the way it is I guess.” My first months here really made me an expert in knowing when to smile, to nod, to give a little laugh, all the while not having a clue what’s going on. Heaven forbid someone ask a more pointed question! It can be rather annoying at times, but I know better than to say every five minutes, “What? What’s that word? What’s going on? Who’s in pajamas?” Paul knows I’m faking half the time when I nod in understanding. He thankfully will ask, “Tu comprends mec?” and take the time to explain. I usually still won’t laugh if it’s a joke.
Another example, in February, Paul and I received an email for “un formation de qualité” or training session. I didn’t think we had to go until I realized it was mandatory. So Paul and I walk in an hour late, sign the little sheet, and tried to take notes as this older French guy with grey hair and a ridiculous moustache went on and on about… well, I don’t really know. Something about being helpful and respectful to clients I think. His PowerPoint slides looked like space shuttle schematics and everything he said flew over my head. I pretended to take notes and then started a tic-tac-toe game with Paul. Karen and Elodie thought that was funny as we clandestinely passed the paper back and forth. Later on, I realized that the speaker was the number three in the whole mission and makes something like 200,000 Euros a year. I also learned through water cooler gossip that no one respects him and that the two bosses in my department used to make jokes about how incompetent he is. So, I’ve learned that offices are a lot like high school. The meeting dragged on for two hours at which point I walked out, way behind in my press review work. I looked at Paul. “I didn’t get any of that.” “Don’t worry,” he says, “there’s nothing to get.” About a month later, I was handed a little certificate proving my attendance. I guess it’s like some DMV classes. No one really cares whether you walk away with anything, as long as you go.
I have also learned, listening to my colleagues complain, that French people don’t work well together. On one day, the head of the entire Mission came in and asked us to find a Wall Street Journal article detailing a Chinese contract with Areva, the French nuclear power firm. I compile a daily press review and, due to some stupid password issues, did not include the WSJ that day. Now, think about that. The head of the French government’s economic mission in China had to find out about a French nuclear contract from the newspaper. You think someone would have kept him informed. Nope. Elodie once told me about how Marrion was trying to do some work on the tourist trade. The French embassy’s tourist department refused to help her saying it wasn’t her jurisdiction. While I get a lot crap for being an American, everyone has said to me, “Americans are better at working together and getting the job done. They don’t waste time or sabotage themselves like we do.”
Everything in China is about guangxi or ‘back door connections/networking.’ If a high up official puts in a good word for you, then doors start to open. Awhile back, Areva was vying for a nuclear contract in a different part of China. I’m not sure on all the details, but Areva and thus France lost out to Westinghouse, an American firm. Alex told me that the deal appeared golden when U.S. Treasury Secretary Paulson came to town and signed the Westinghouse deal. Part of it was the Chinese trade more with the U.S. and were concerned about trade tariffs if they didn’t start buying U.S. products and services. Another cause was the lack of effort by the French Minister of Finance Thierry Breton. Instead of promoting Areva and working hard to clinch a deal, Breton didn’t discuss the issue. Apparently he didn’t like Areva’s CEO or something.
As a French employee, I say aloud, “Oh yes, it’s a pity France didn’t get that contract and lost out to Westinghouse,” but inside I chuckle, “hehe, bitches…”
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