Long Live the South?

On Monday night I met my new friend Virgile for drinks.  He had insisted that I meet him Monday so that I could talk with his friend Cyrile.  (I know, Virgile, Cyrile… kind of rhymes doesn’t it?)

“Cyrile is a big fan of the United States,” Virgile told me. 

We met at a bar and started out the evening with a round of beers; and so our conversation began to flow. 

Virgile works for a pharmaceutical company in Besançon – the town where he grew up and where his parents still live.  Right away, he seems like a very stable and sensible guy.  He is wearing a suit, has neat haircut, and doesn’t smoke. 

Cyrile lives and works in Vesoul, a smaller city about forty minutes away from Besançon, but he was born in a tiny unknown town of one thousand inhabitants.  He tells me this town is still where he feels most comfortable and at home.  Although Cyrile studied history when he was at university, he now owns a motorcycle dealership.  He is wearing jeans, a baseball cap, and a blue hoodie that says “Dunder-Mifflin.” (Yes, like The Office)  He smoked between six and eight cigarettes throughout the evening. 

Cyrile asks where I am from in America.  I tell him and he immediately says, “Oh! You’re from the South!” 

It turns out that Cyrile is a regular history buff, and is particularly passionate about the American Civil War.  For reasons I can’t quite comprehend, he has chosen the Confederacy as his preferred “team.”  He said he has a small confederate flag in his room and used to dream about being a confederate soldier as a boy.  He asked me all about different battles, and wanted to know which battlefields I had visited.  He told me about the brilliant strategies of Stonewall Jackson and Robert E. Lee.  When I told Cyrile that some of my very own relatives had been proud confederate soldiers, he was near ecstatic.  Turns out, my new French friend knows more about American history than I do. 

Virgile, Cyrile, and I mused about how what the Confederacy really wanted, was to be a bit like the European Union: separate countries, with separate leaders, armies, and laws; but loosely tied economically and diplomatically.  

“Well then,” Virgile said, “You should be glad America is not that way.  Because it is not working here.” 

He and Cryile then launched into a long tirade about the situation in Greece.  They explained that France is often seen as a bridge between two different EU factions: the warm-blooded, laid-back southern/Mediterranean countries, and the cool efficient northern countries.  They said that both types of mentalities exist in France, often divided between the public and private sectors. 

Virgile said, “In France, government employees can relax.”  “They do nothing and have holidays every other week.” "They are like Italians." 

“Yes, and Virgile and I have to work long hours with very few holidays,” added Cyrile.  "We are like Germans."

At this, I smiled sheepishly.  I am, after all, a government employee.

So of course, this Friday, I have another vacation, which I will be using to travel to Switzerland with two girlfriends.  (I didn’t mention this to Virgile and Cyrile.) 

So... Long Live the South!  (And thank God for the French government!)