While at the University of Michigan, I earned an AB in French Literature, and a MA and PhD in Anthropology. My dissertation covered the history of French winegrowers’ cooperatives. After living for two years in Rognes, a remote French village, my English got worse. My Provençal French improved. Old men in the village thought that a Vietnamese woman had come to write a novel about them, so they divulged many good tales. It’s not the only time I’ve been involved in a case of mistaken identity.