A Green Lesson

I have a confession to make. In the United States, Al Gore would probably cry if he saw my carbon footprint. And its not just the carbon I add by driving around a big ol’ SUV when I could clearly bike; it’s my general lackadaisical attitude towards all things “green.” Blame [willful?] ignorance, blame a somewhat-typical-of-my-generation apathy towards any atrocity that ought to incite some passion, or blame my rebellious desire to eschew all things über trendy, but either way you slice it, my energy consumption needed curbing (though that third option is highly unlikely).

But breathe easy, mes amis because, as with any good American story, my tale ends in triumph (as my host father would tease). Enter France. Or really, all of Europe for that matter because, as I expected, this continent has done a much better job of making green practices more of a habit than a deliberate choice. Now while it’s true that only a few weeks ago President Sarkozy abandoned plans to implement a controversial carbon tax in France as a way to curb dirty energy use (for a good background article, check out http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/24/business/global/24iht-carbon.html), French society seems like it already puts the U.S. to shame on the green initiatives’ front.

My first encounter with this cultural difference began in frustration. In several of the places I would regularly frequent, it appeared as if the escalators were always en panne, or out of order. Imagine with me, if you please, my “oh duh” moment as I saw a man board one of the empty broken escalators, which then STARTED MOVING. Motion-activated sensors, although evidently energy-saving, can be sneaky devils, especially when I think of all the times I thought I was forced to take the stairs!

Public transportation in general seems more popular in Paris than in DC and New York. The social stigma historically attached to riding the subway/bus in the United States is nonexistent here. In New York I love riding the subway because it’s a great self-esteem boost when you’re a catch just for looking clean and having all ten fingers; in Paris it’s almost a mathematical necessity that I’ll be jealous of the chic outfit sported by the woman (or man) sitting next to me. And of course, when those fashionable French aren’t switching metro lines with me at Châtelet, they’re often driving eco-friendly Smart cars or zippy mopeds.

But the key is it’s not just the obvious transportation stuff. French people really hate to gâcher, or waste, electricity. So at any given point when I’m at home, if there’s no one in a room or hallway, even for a few minutes, the lights in that space are off. I’ve gotten in the habit of respecting this nice little practice, even if it means using the light of my cell phone in the late afternoon to cross the hall to the kitchen. I know it probably sounds simple, but before coming here I couldn’t imagine the normalcy of eating dinner in the dining room while every other room in the house/apartment is dark.

My home life involves other simple green customs. For a few weeks we stopped using paper napkins at meals and everyone just had their own linen napkin, reused at each meal if sufficiently clean and differentiated by a personalized napkin ring. Many toilets (and even more commonly in public restrooms) have an option between two flush buttons: one is the full, regular amount (presumably for when you need a little more, erm, whooshing power) and one is for flushing with half as much water. I believe the laundry machines use less water/energy as well here, and I’m certain it’s the same case with the dryers, because my jeans and shirts always come out a teeny bit damp. Alas, it’s a small price to pay.

In this cleaner, greener world of mine, there remains only one enigma: recycling. My host family typically tosses soda cans in the trash with the rest of our garbage and in some neighborhoods, citizens must walk all their plastic and glass bottles to a green communal (and admittedly large and ugly) receptacle where each bottle must be deposited individually through a small round hole. How I’d long for a big plastic bin of my own to throw out on the street once a week if I were a homeowner here!

So, while I don’t envision myself installing solar panels on my roof anytime soon, I am glad (and a teensy bit proud) to say that I think some of my eco-friendly routines here in Paris will stick once I cross back to the other side of the pond. In the meantime, feel free to do your part and keep your communication with me in the digital realm. (Who am I kidding? I love snail mail! How ‘bout we just agree to use postcards made from recycled paper?)