"Obama: Savior of the world… and America?"

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This image says it all, doesn't it? Many French people I talked to seem to have as much invested in an Obama presidency as we Americans do.
This image from Dorothy's Gallery pretty much says it all, doesn't it? Many French people I talked to seem to have as much invested in an Obama presidency as we Americans do.

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These works from artist Cyril Anguelidis are part of the “Barack Obama President A United World” exposition at Paris’s Dorothy’s Gallery. The one on the left is titled “Super Oba;” the one on the right is simply called “Yes We Can.” Both have been used as posters promoting this stellar exposition through Jan. 26 — and they capture the world’s hope for Barack Obama’s presidency.

 

“Obama: Savior of the world… and America?” So read the translation from a recent front-page story on a French publication during my time in Paris, the second half of my solo 40th birthday adventure.

This headline may be taking the “hope” message to an extreme, but what a wonderful time to be an American abroad again. 

And what a great time to be an AFRICAN-AMERICAN out in the world.

Since the election of Barack Obama, who’ll be the United States’ first president of acknowledged African descent, folks all over the globe certainly see America in a brand-new light. FINALLY, by electing this black man, we lived up to the platitudes and ideals the nation had been claiming for more than 200 years. We all saw the celebrations beamed from ‘round the world on Election Night – people hugging and crying in Australia, dancing in the streets in Kenya, celebrating after staying up all night long across Europe. But until you’re out in these countries, meeting “real people” who continue to gush about our president-elect, it doesn’t quite hit you just how negatively America has impacted the world over the past eight years – and how much HOPE people have invested in his impending presidency. Just like many of us in the States, they can’t wait for Jan. 20! And we American globetrotters no longer have to be apologists for our country’s policies, or ashamed of our president.

What’s heartening to me as a Chicagoan that now, when I mention my Midwest hometown, the first thing people around the world say is, “OBAMA!!” It’s no longer about Michael Jordan or gangster Al Capone. No, it is the Hawaiian-born former senator who is truly Chicago’s, and the world’s, rock star. Back in May, I remember talking (in terribly broken French) to a housekeeper in my small Parisian hotel who was thrilled about Obama’s chances. My mom and I took a Mediterranean cruise in late November and met people in Italy, in Turkey, in Greece, who couldn’t be prouder of America’s presidential choice. Even an Indonesian waiter on the cruise ship beamed, knowing that Barack Hussein Obama spent some early growing-up years in his native land. This American president truly belongs to the world.

During this birthday trip to France, I had incredibly thoughtful conversations with Europeans about Obama’s election, with them asking I had been “in the park” (my mom and I were!) on that magical Nov. 4th night in Chicago. It happened in Ventimiglia, Italy, where Ristorante Miramare’s young signore and I bonded over talk about the incoming president. In Villefranche, where a waiter at Le Cosmo Restaurant saluted me with, “Yes, we can!” after learning I was from the Windy City. I discussed Obama with my “magic hands” masseur in Paris. With a genteel older Frenchwoman dining next to me at famed tea house Ladureé. At Chez Vong, my favorite Chinese restaurant in Paris, where the waiters instantly piped up, “OBAMA!” after hearing my hometown. And during a home-cooked meal in Villefranche with three wonderful new friends from Ireland (on my 40th birthday, no less!), Olivia, Paddy and Grainne talked at length about our hopes and our fears for Obama’s presidency, one we truly believe can change the world. 

The global nature of this movement truly hit home for me at Dorothy’s Gallery in Paris. A tucked-away enclave in the bustling Bastille quartier , the gallery is owned by Dorothy Polley, an expatriate American who lives in France. During my stay in Paris, I checked out “Barack Obama President A United World,” the gallery’s second and marvelously uplifting “exposition” on the globe-changing election of this man. As you’ll see here, it featured paintings, photographs, sculptures, and even videos from 30 artists around the world — including African-American artist Ealy Mays — on the impact Obama’s ascent has had on the world. It should humble American leaders – and us as regular Americans – that the decisions we make and the votes we cast have more impact on our fellow world citizens than we’ll ever know. And that’s another reason travel is so key in this age of shrinking borders. Rather than just viewing the world’s reaction on CNN, we get to shake hands with it, discuss it, and see it up close in people’s hopeful eyes.

YES, God bless America!

Ringing in my fourth decade in (French) style

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 Is this place gorgeous or what? A seafront view of Villefranche, one seen by cruise ship passengers who disembark here for day trips on the French Riviera.
Is this place gorgeous or what? A seafront view of Villefranche-sur-Mer, one seen by cruise ship passengers who disembark here for day trips on the French Riviera.

 

The compact Villefranche sur Mer train station that transported me around the French Riviera (or Cote d'Azur, as it's called in French) -- and even across the border to Italy. The local trains were on strike during my visit, making for some challenging travel!
The compact Villefranche-sur-Mer train station that transported me around the French Riviera (or Cote d'Azur, as it's called en francais) -- and even across the border to Italy. The local trains were on strike during my visit, making for some challenging travel!
Villefranche became my base for exploring the Cote d'Azur... and one train-enabled day trip took me to the charming town of Antibes (shown here), as well as the larger cities of Nice and Marseille.
Villefranche became my base for exploring the Cote d'Azur... and one train-enabled day trip took me to the charming town of Antibes (shown here), as well as the larger cities of Nice and Marseille.

I don’t usually get hyped up about birthdays, but it’s not everyday you turn 40. And since I’ll take any excuse to take a foreign trip, I wanted to ring in this Jan. 4 somewhere abroad. Of course, I love Italy to death, am newly fascinated with Greece after stopping there twice with my mom during a 12-day cruise in November… but somehow, my mind kept drifting back to France. Paris is my all-time favorite city, but I felt like I needed to kick off this new year somewhere new. Different, yet romantic and ideally, Mediterranean. While reading one of my favorite twice-weekly e-mails from Adrian Leeds’ Parler Paris newsletter , I saw a listing for “Riviera Experience ,” an assortment of vacation apartments in the charming French Riviera town of Villefranche-sur-Mer, owned and managed by a super-friendly American expat named Shelley Benton. I checked out her Web site, drooled over the incredible apartments – and was immediately hooked!

Those who know me well realize that while I enjoy traveling with family members and friends, I’m equally fond of setting off on my own. And from the start, this 40th birthday getaway felt like one I needed to take alone. I’m thrilled about turning 40 (even though I must admit, it feels strange to type out the number!), and see the start of my fourth decade as a great time for introspection. It’s probably my last best chance to figure out who and what I want to be when I grow up. Do-overs have pretty much run out at this point, so I thought two weeks in a gorgeous place surrounded by folks who’ve long ago mastered that whole “work-life balance” thing was just what the doctor ordered.

While my trip began in Shelley’s to-die-for “Artist’s Atelier ” apartment, right in the center of vieux (old) Villefranche, all roads eventually lead me to Paris, which is where I’ll spend the last four nights of my turning-40 adventure. I’m renting another one of Parler Paris’ stunning apartments in the hopping Marais district, a place I’m sure will inspire and dazzle me just as this city always does.

Perhaps 40 really will be the “new 30” for me – but only if I get to take the hard-knocks wisdom I’ve earned over the last decade with me into my fourth. One thing that’ll certainly go with me into my 40s – a never-ending sense of wanderlust and desire to experience life abroad as often, and as authentically, as possible.

The kindness of (Italian) strangers

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Ristorante Miramare, with a to-die-for patio that hugs the Mediterranean coast, became my culinary refuge during a day trip to Ventimiglia, Italy!
Ristorante Miramare, with a to-die-for patio that hugs the Mediterranean coast, became my culinary refuge during a day trip to Ventimiglia, Italy!

My French speaking skills pretty much suck, so rather than feeling like the village idiot, I decided to take the 40-minute train from charming Villefranche to Ventimiglia, the first town over the border in Italy. While I won’t be winning any prizes for my knowledge of Italian, I sound like a genius in italiano compared to the moron I sound like in français (multiple classes notwithstanding). So off I went to the train station, armed with my Berlitz Italian Phrase Book & Dictionary just in case all my questi and quelli got stuck in translation.

A palm tree-dominated glimpse down the Ventimiglia promenade.
A palm tree-dominated glimpse down the Ventimiglia promenade.

 

 

Ahhh… what a delight to stroll into a city where things felt familiar! Granted, I’d never been to Ventimiglia, but how thrilling to see signs for a salumeria and a gelateria – and actually be able to intelligently ask for my purchase! And, of course, my Italian brothers never let me down… they’re always good for an admiring glance or two and a couple whistles for a single signorina! (I made sure to change into my “cute shoes” before I boarded the train for Italy – I know those so-called little things make a big difference in bella Italia.)

When I got off the train, I was starving… and I’ve spent enough time in Europe to know that you’ve got to time lunch right. Most (decent) restaurants close some time between 2:30 and 7:30 pm, giving employees time off between shifts. But thanks to the late-running French train, it was nearly 3 pm when I arrived. I stumbled from place to place, every one closed and offering (at best) some limp slice of old-looking pizza. A signorina advised me to check out places on the sea, as they might still be serving. And although the kindly old man at the door of Ristorante Miramare said the kitchen was closed, my pleading in Italian won me sympathy from the cute young man at the cash register. He convinced the kitchen to prepare a pasta dish for me, one I devoured while drinking fizzy young vino rosso – and one of the most gorgeous seaside views anywhere. I swear, the kindness of strangers!

As I was leaving, the young man, Emanuele, asked me to take his phone number and call him next time I’m in Ventimiglia so we could meet for a drink. I’m sure I’m old enough to be his mother and probably would have given the poor ragazzo a heart attack if I’d told him my real age. But it’s still flattering. Maybe I should become a straight-up “cougar” while I’m on this 40th birthday trip. Only my pediatrician and I need to know how old I REALLY am!

 

 

 

Serendipity on a French afternoon

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The view of my Artist's Atelier apartment (on the 2nd floor) from Rue de May, the often-photographed pedestrian-only street in Villefranche.
The view of my Artist's Atelier apartment (on the 2nd floor) from Rue de May, the often-photographed pedestrian-only street in Villefranche-sur-Mer.
The harborside view from Le Cosmo Restaurant is gorgeous (as is the profile of my favorite waiter!).
The harborside view from Le Cosmo Restaurant is gorgeous (as is the profile of my favorite waiter!).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Talk about peaceful -- I'd never get tired of a Mediterranean view like this.
Talk about peaceful -- I'd never get tired of a Mediterranean view like this.

 

So I had planned to take a 9:36 am train to the gritty, rough-and-tumble Provencal town of Marseille …but being myself, I could hardly drag myself out of the bed this morning. So after rolling back over, finally waking at 11:30 and getting myself dressed, I traipsed down the lovely Rue de May steps (I’m renting an apartment in a pedestrian-only part of Villefranche-sur-Mer) to find a restaurant or brasserie still open before the mid-afternoon closing.

I settled on a place I’d dined before – the almost-waterfront Le Cosmo Restaurant – and decided to nosh outside since the afternoon sun was so warm. (Besides, the waiter was gorgeous in that gaunt Gallic way, tall and slender!) I found a great table with a view of the Mediterranean harbor, and locked eyes with a good-looking, dressed-in-black Frenchman at the next table. After exchanging Bonjours, he commented on my sunglasses and proceeded to start a brief conversation. This curly-haired homme – a cutie-pie for sure – asked if he could join me at my table. Turned out J.L. (leave it to me to meet a gorgeous Frenchman whose ancestors actually came from Italia! ) is also a writer whose pursuits include traveling, swimming in the chilly Mediterranean sea several mornings a week, and writing symbolic novels about an idealistic world where we all get along. Sounded pretty cool to me! 

Anyway… about 90 minutes of pleasant conversation followed, after which he charmingly invited me to his flat in nearby Nice for a meal some time this week. Who knows if I’ll take him up on it, but how lovely to receive such a tempting invitation! This would probably fall into my dad’s category of, “Don’t be over there [in Europe] doing nothin’ stupid,” but what an adventure, eh? I’m headed back to Nice on Sunday for church… so perhaps an afternoon lunch with a gorgeous Frenchman is just the way to kick off 2009!