Priorities before coming to France: Why they are now distant and very skewed dreams
- Become Fluent in French: In 5 weeks? Pffft. I sincerely wish I could go back in time and slap the smug look off of my face when I said this to myself. I came here with a solid ‘B2’ level in French- as noted by my Professor back home- which is a Mid-inter. I was humbled after a week a grammar review classes at the Université Stendhal where I was demoted to a level B1.7. In my remedial-sounding B1.7 class, I am struggling to comprehend more than half of what is said. Oh Arielle, you’re so cute and naïve sometimes.
- Travel to Italy, Vienna, Spain, and maybe Greece: Silly me- I thought it would be easy as pie to jet-set from country to country in 5 weeks. Damnit, Eat, Pray, Love – you made it seem so easy! Between the time I devote to class, friends, finding my way home, and generally having enough time to digest the day, its impossible to even think past dinner. Not to mention how much it costs to get to said places. The rail system in Europe may be superb, but it’s not as fast or as cheap as teleportation, so I’ve found.
- Find a slew of French suitors: Being the undercover romantic that I am, I pictured my fate once abroad with rose-colored glasses: locking eyes with a kind stranger on the busy metro and suddenly, hopelessly, desperately falling into a love affair for the duration of my stay. Ahhhhhh (Cue heart flutter). So far the only reputable ‘action’ I’ve gotten consists of being asked out to wine by a senile Franco-Egyptian who was 60 years my senior and I've been groped by a sleazy Italian whom I would’ve punched had I had the sobriety. My lack of having so much as a head-turn to brag about is especially infuriating now that not one, but two of my girlfriends here are living the French lover dream; one with a hot tour guide that we met by chance and the other with her host brother. I KNOW, RIGHT?!?! If I’m lucky enough to find one that I do fancy, he’s (obviously) gay, taken (with his girlfriend), or just a stereotypical foreign sleaze. Plus, I can’t communicate adoration with my 5-year-old vocabulary. My friends seem to have found a way around it, though. Sigh. Mark my words: I’ll be damned if I brought 16 condoms with me to not even open one for the hell of it.
Priorities after arrival & digestion of France: What is attainable and how
- Make friends- quickly, before they’re all gone!: The nature of being on a time-limit really makes one fast-forward trough the pleasantries of 'normal friendship' and get down to the nitty-gritty. Questions that flash through your head- “Do I like this person? Would I hang out with them under different circumstances? Am I only tolerating this behavior because I probably won’t see them again? ” It’s a bizarre microscope to put people under, but no less true. I hope this habit carries over into connecting with people back in the U.S. In the fashion of summer-camp, I can say that I’ve met people I will talk to for an unforeseeable amount of time. That’s all the judgment I’m passing thusly.
- Bonding with my host family: I do not share things when I can help it: Personal space being one of my bug-a-boo’s. Not only would I have to share meals and space with these strangers, but I'd also have to share time and effort. The thought intimidated me heavily until I met them. I was happy to integrate fairly well into my host family the first 2 weeks. I assimilated, joined into the conversation when I could and was attentive on the verge of eaves dropping. I have since felt my language comprehension peak because of all the English spoken with API friends but I’m slowly finding equilibrium between speaking inarticulate French and a sort of Franglais with my host family. Hand gestures seriously help. Inhibitions have slowly fallen away into a distant comfort- just in time for me to say goodbye in 2 weeks (sad emoticon). So far my wonderful host mom (Claudie) says I’ve improved, my host sister (Celestine) is your a-typical sassy 16 year-old (she wants absolutely nothing to do with me- still), and I am now able to hold a 10-minute conversation with my 12-year-old host brother (César) and his eccentric friends. Our chats usually consist of cursing in different languages, video games, and comparing American pop culture phenomena like Family Guy vs. The Simpsons. I’m so proud of myself.
- Going, nay, Living outside of my comfort zone: I’m quite proud the things I’ve marked off my scrolling bucket list- I’ve been swimming in freezing cold water and ice rain at Lac Annecy (à la Titanic), I’ve gone ‘hiking’ on a real-life mountain, I’ve seen a good chunk of the art in-person that had previously only held merit in books, and my french has improved dramatically from my arrival. For the sake of being in France (and being young and stupid), I’m finally getting to do things that I’ve always wanted to do- sans regrets. I have a fairly new motto: “Do it for the story”. We’ll see how much trouble this gets me into later. In the spirit of the story, I will be paragliding through the Alps this week, skipping some class for much needed alone time to process France (screw credits- I'm on my victory lap of college anyway), and spending my 22nd birthday weekend with a penpal in Montpellier whom I’ve never met in-person. Let the discomfort begin!
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