Born in 1940, I was raised in Paris. My father, an Armenian born in Istanbul, Turkey, went to a French school in Alexandria, Egypt, and immigrated to France in 1935. After marrying my mother, a Parisian, and being badly injured in the second world war, he worked as a jeweler-diamond dealer with a keen eye for real estate – buying and renovating small inns, restaurants and houses.
My parents were very pro-American. I still remember when my hometown was liberated and Mother and I walked on the Champs-Élysées. I always wished to visit America but my father, who was very strict, was against it. At the time, I had a full-time job in an international music publishing company off the Champs-Élysées, translating English lyrics to French. This gave me the opportunity to meet artists such as Edith Piaf. Even though it was a glamorous job, I still longed for travel and adventure (and to get away from my strict father).
Armenian friends in Los Angeles agreed to sponsor me, and within one month I had obtained a visa and, later, a green card. In Paris, I had bought a Greyhound package giving me unlimited travel for three months. I travelled to 30 US states before settling in San Francisco in the fall of 1961. I was excited to go and listen to jazz in San Francisco. I found a job downtown, making less there than I had in Paris. Still, I loved the work and the people there. I also did some hair modelling for Clairol. People who heard my French accent asked: “Did you come with one of our GIs?” I was pleased to tell them no, I had come alone, using my own money.
In June 1967, I was married. On our honeymoon, we attended the Monterey International Pop Festival. My husband knew Janis Joplin and members of the Big Brother and Holding Company, who they were performing there. After the summer of 1967, the San Francisco mood began to change and by 1969 many of our friends were leaving, some on a bus to Tennessee to start a commune.
Our first daughter was born in late 1969 and at this time my husband decided to go back east to finish his studies. In 1972 he obtained a master’s degree in environmental planning from the University of Pennsylvania. The then Georgia governor, Jimmy Carter, offered him a position in his natural resources department and we moved to Georgia. We had a second daughter, and I worked at several jobs, mostly as a translator, to have funds for regular trips to Paris.
In 1982, a large corporation, Lockheed Martin, offered me a position. About 60 Algerian air force trainees had come to learn English and C-130 aircraft maintenance. As a customer liaison officer, I spoke French with them. I was like their big sister, taking them to doctors, making sure their stay in America went smoothly. Over time, we had trainees from Kuwait, Egypt, Dubai, Belgium, the United Kingdom, Saudi Arabia, China, Ethiopia, etc. Some stayed a week and others stayed a couple of years.
It was another glamorous job, but it was demanding since I needed to be on call 24/7 in case of an emergency (and there were several!). I wrote reports on the trainees’ countries so my colleagues at Lockheed would be familiar with their culture. I also took the trainees on little trips and explained American culture.
After 26 years in my company, I decided to retire knowing that I would miss the international connections. During those 26 years, I had traveled, paying my own way to many of my trainees’ cities, such as Addis Ababa, Dubai, Algiers, Tunis, Singapore, Dakar, Pisa, Bangkok, Jakarta, Libreville (Gabon) and more.
Many of our trainees were Muslims and were enthusiastic students, always very respectful of me, so it saddens me to hear all the anti-Muslim rhetoric these days in the US.
My husband retired from the environmental field in 2005 and was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease in 2009. I started a blog, called Recollections of a Vagabonde, at my daughter’s urging. Initially, it was just for the benefit of my grandchildren, so they could learn of our past. But I now find it a real comfort to keep in touch with blogging friends from across the US and the world, some of whom I have met in person.
I love it when they tell me they learned something new on my blog – maybe something about France – or when my French readers learn something about US culture. I am a US citizen, and I love this beautiful country, but of course, I still love my hometown of Paris. I am grateful to both because they have given me so much.
Open contributions: How did you get to the US?
