Philly’s bad rep in France

Getting defensive about the town we left behind

Most people we meet have never heard of Philadelphia. It’s on the east coast, we tell them. Between New York and Washington. Y’know… the Liberty Bell? Birthplace of Independence? Rocky? 

They nod politely and I’m left wondering how it is that they don’t know anything about my hometown. Philadelphia is at least five times the size of Rennes. It’s bigger than every French city outside of Paris. I know about Rennes, howcum they don’t know about Philly?

Maybe that’s a good thing, because every once in a while you run into someone who does know Philly. Or, at least, one very particular neighborhood.

Kensington. The French have heard about Kensington.

It happened again the other day at the coffee shop. The waiter had been told by his boss about us. The kid comes out with a pair of espressos (decaf for Theresa) and a pastry the size of my fist.

Do you mind if I ask you a question? I heard you’re from Fee-lah-del-fee, he says.

We marvel because it’s a rare moment of English.

“We are,” says Theresa, adding as she always does. “But we live in Rennes now.”

How can you live there? 

“Huh? What’s wrong with Philadelphia? Have you’ve been to Philadelphia?

No. I want to move to Chicago. But I have seen the videos.

The YouTube videos. Oh jeez…

If you haven’t seen them, don’t bother. Imagine the very worst of an inner city: trash, abandoned storefronts, prostitutes and the lifeless bodies of overdose victims strewn along sidewalks. The videos, which some refer to as trauma porn, attract thousands of views. They’re further amplified by Fox News, always ready to kick dirt on a “liberal city.”

The waiter was at least the fourth person I’ve encountered here who mentioned them. Never mind all the good stuff about Philadelphia, this is what people from other countries see.

I can’t say I blame the French for their dim view of America. The drug scourge in America is a completely foreign concept here. Yes, France has its share of drug abuse. There’s an entire subculture of aimless 30-year-old men in dirty camouflage jackets, accompanied by unleashed dogs, begging for loose change for their next can of Kronenbourg. And don’t get me started on the kids screaming on the streets at 5 in the morning, zoned out of their gourds on their way home from all-night raves. But the problem is nothing like in the U.S., where drug fatalities per capita outpace those in France, 40 to 1.

Theresa attempted to educate the waiter on the unique phenomenon of opioid abuse in the United States. I protested that the videos depict only a very small part of a single neighborhood in a large city. Just 10 minutes from K&A, you’re in the  middle of Fishtown, the city’s most vibrant neighborhood. 

He seemed unmoved.

I wanted to say, “Yeah, but… but Philly has museums and Boathouse Row and universities and Will Smith and the Big Five.” It’s unfair to define a city of 1.5 million by its social ills.

Believe me, the irony did not escape me. Here I was citing the positive attributes of a city that I’d left just 10 months ago, partly because of its hostile negativity.

And, yet, if I don’t speak up for Philadelphia in France, who will?

A couple of weeks after our encounter with the waiter, Theresa ran into our apartment building’s guardian – a type of janitor/concierge. He’s a 40-something guy, married to a woman who speaks enough English that I can converse with her, with an adorable girl who likes to ride her bike in the underground parking garage when it’s too rainy outside.

He and his family had just returned from a long-planned trip to the east coast that included three days in Washington, five days in New York and two in Philly. Theresa had written a detailed Philly guide for them that included everything from the best cheesesteaks to the Franklin Institute.

“Did you enjoy your vacation?” Theresa asked him.

Bien sûr

The only problem, he said, was the schedule. The family should’ve spent two days in New York and five in Philadelphia! It’s just like a real city but with lots of nature. All those parks!

Philly doesn’t need me to defend its honor. Anyone with an open mind can see for himself.