Today on my walk to work, with the suddenly nippy fall air biting at my bare neck, I was reminded of fall at Tufts and our special style de vie. I remembered golden leaves on the academic quad and North Face fleeces. I remembered apples and five o'clock bells from Goddard. I also remembered my constant embarrassment when, filled with the joy of the season, I would shout across the lawn to a passing friend only to be greeted by silence. Foiled again by... the iPod.
The iPod, that funny little rock of plastic and whirring metal, has crept into American lives like the Little Engine That Could: cute yet stubborn, seemingly optional yet entirely necessary. What would we do without our iPods? Without the protection of those diminutive little earbuds we might actually have to greet passersby in the street, look people in the eye, or do something without the constant stimulus of the technology that controls our lives and, dare I say, our thoughts.
We've thrown ourselves headlong into our technology, allowing it to define our national identity and our personal status in society. We like to think this stock in technology indicates our evolution as a society, our ability to handle a thousand things at once and still have 2.5 children, a dog and a picket fence. We also tend to think the rest of the world should follow suit, because "the American Way is the best way" (quoting here from an American student in my study abroad program).
But is it? Today, as the world becomes increasingly polarized and American allies have started calling foul on U.S. hegemony, our former playmates seem to be pulling off in their own direction. The French are burning McDo's and the European Union doesn't want to buy U.S. steaks. But while Europe can get on without our beef, can they survive without our technology? Can Europe really reject our obsession with television, our attachment to our iPods?
Admittedly, Europe has already caved in to the guilty pleasures of "Urgences" (aka the deliciousness that is Noah Wyle on "E.R.") Last Saturday morning as I sat drinking tea in a rural Swiss kitchen, my native friend looked out the window and wondered aloud where all the people were. His 76 year-old grandmother replied they were all watching TV.
But on trains and boulevards, the iPod, unlike the cell phone, is still a newfangled and very expensive way to show the world that you are not European. Here in Switzerland, the youth get a kick out of their prehistoric Sony Discmans, and some are so cutting edge they listen to their miniscule MP3 libraries stored on cellphones. But walking down the street plugged into an iPod, or any device with headphones, is still a rare sight.
When I plug into 20GB of listening pleasure, I wonder if the stares I sometimes get are springing from jealousy or distaste. While my older host mother tells me that one should always say bonjour to people on the street, my young Swiss friends say that nobody does that anymore. Last weekend at a cafe in central Switzerland, I broke from my animated conversation to check out a table of three Swiss teens each in his own world, sitting in each other's company but eyes glassy as they played tetris on their cellphones.
It seems that times are a'changin' here in Europe, albeit slowly. Their governments may continue to proclaim "old European values" and reject American consumerism, but words exchanged on the street seem fewer and far between and billboards of the infamous dancing silhouettes are popping up in train stations and downtowns. With the iPod comes another hurdle for the continuation of the European way of life.
I've given in; I know I'm American and I'm not going to try to avoid the trappings of my citizenship. But for Europeans, which path should they take? Should they struggle to stay uniquely "European", clinging to their exorbitantly priced cafe and three kisses on the cheek? Or should they roll down the path of least resistance, accepting the iPod and reformulating their culture yet again to meet the demands of a global world?
The innocent question that Apple asks in its marketing campaign, "Which iPod are you?," is precisely the question that Europe now faces. Like Apple likes to proclaim, the iPod is no music-playing device; it's a cultural revolution. Europe, prepare yourself.
