There are risks to picking up sticks and moving to a foreign country, and a zillion questions arise: Am I ever again to feel comfortable conversing? How shall I manage the tax and social security systems? Can I remember that “16h” is the same as 4 pm? Why are there at least five different types of high school diploma? Will my old friends forget me?
In an effort to balance out the feeling of apartness, I looked for commonalities: in the history and shared Franco-American ideals of democracy, freedom of speech and religion, and right to assemble and protest. “Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité,” France’s national motto, had a great ring to it.
After many years living in rural Normandy, I still struggle with some of the challenges mentioned above, but this summer’s visit from my buddy from primary school and her sixteen-year-old son, assured me that strong friendships can hold. Jane and Oskar arrived by train from Paris, following a few bustling days there during which Oskar seemed to make the city his own. An enthusiastic runner, he found his happy place jogging on an Olympic track in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. Then, with a full week of Normandy outings planned, our intrepid sixteen-year-old came down with “une gastro” as our local pharmacist flatly declared — a stomach bug that would last from 3-5 days.
It was a question of priorities. We had already made the tough edits to our agenda, leaving Mont Saint-Michel and the Bayeux tapestry on the cutting room floor (to adopt an apropos analogy for Jane, who is a documentary filmmaker).
By the end of day four, Oskar was feeling back to his old self, and as we had time for only one touristic outing and the weather was delightful, it was decided that the Normandy D-Day landing beach known as Omaha Beach would offer the most impactful experience for Oskar. It was here on June 6, 1944, that more than 34,000 American soldiers came ashore to fight the German troops.
Every U.S. high-school student would certainly study World War II and the Allied landings, or had perhaps watched the harrowing nine-minute continuous shot in Spielberg’s “Saving Private Ryan,” depicting American soldiers storming the beach — arguably the worst ordeal of the D-Day operations, during which the lives of some 2,400 young men were lost.









