My friend Karen moved back to the United States from France in 2011, around the same time I did.  Before that huge move (she had also lived in France for many years), Karen expressed concern about losing her unique status.  “I won’t be the American living in France anymore,” she sighed. 

I knew just what she meant. The American in Paris.  Well, at the time I was the American in Clermont-Ferrand and she was the American in St-Jean-des-Ollières. I know, that probably sounds less poetic.