Ma Famille Française

As I mentioned in an earlier post, my first major foray into travelling was the summer that I spent in Paris, France after my sophomore year of high school. Although I had been on multiple trips before my study abroad program, this one was markedly different. Most of my international trips up to this point had been shorter jaunts in which I had primarily been surrounded by my family or friends. None of my family trips to the Bahamas or Italy had involved an extensive amount of “cultural immersion.” This is precisely why I chose to participate in the French exchange program that my school offered. On this program we were partnered with a French high school student who attended Le Collége Stanislas de Paris. Our French “buddy” stayed with us in Washington, D.C. for a month and a half, and we did the same with them in Paris over our summer vacation. Because I went to boarding school, I knew that I definitely had the better end of the exchange program. I doubted that Valentine (my French counterpart) was too excited about sharing a miniscule dorm room with my non-French speaking roommate and myself. But for some crazy reason, Valentine thought American high school was the coolest thing ever. I should have known that I would be in for some culture shock when she wouldn’t stop talking about how jealous she was that I was on a sports team and had the friendliest teachers.

When I arrived (extremely jet-lagged) in Paris to stay with Valentine’s family, I immediately struggled with the fact that I was supposed to be speaking exclusively in French for a month. My most commonly used phrases for the first week were “lentement s’il vous plaît” and “Quoi?” Regardless of the fact that I had taken French since first grade, my American teachers who spoke slowly and enunciated every word had not prepared me for the rapid slang that Valentine constantly threw at me. My anxiety continued to build when Valentine showed me a map of the Métro and told me (in French) which stop was closest to her house and which stop was closest to school. Although this wasn’t the first time I had ever taken public transportation, it was the first time I did it alone in a foreign country. It’s safe to say that the thought “Why am I here?” continuously ran threw my head during my first few days in Paris.

My apprehension ultimately turned to frustration after I had gone in the wrong direction on the Métro three times, locked myself out of Valentine’s apartment, and forgotten to notify my bank that I was out of the country (resulting in my card being declined). I was ready to give up and go home. This was not the vacation that I had pictured, in which I was drinking a café au lait at Les Deux Magots or shopping on the Rue Saint-Honoré.

I want to say that I had some magical epiphany that immediately changed my perspective, but it took me some time to understand how fortunate I was. I realized that there was nothing for me to gain from constantly speaking English or hailing taxis to take me wherever I wanted to go. I needed to get lost on the Métro and sit in an unglamorous classroom learning about the mundane aspects of French grammar to truly understand what it is like to immerse yourself in someone else’s culture. I had to push myself out of my comfort zone and be willing to try new things to understand what exactly travelling is about. I have so many friends that have been to Paris before, but there experience was nothing like mine. They stayed in fancy hotels and exclusively visited touristy areas. Although there is nothing wrong with this type of vacation, I am so thankful that I was able to befriend not only my French family, but also many of their friends, who showed me what it was like to truly be Parisian. Without them I would not know that I actually love Foie Gras or that some of the best thrift shopping can be done at the very top of Paris in the 18th arrondissement.

It’s very cliché to say that I “fell in love with Paris” after my trip because who doesn’t say that? But I fell in love with the real Paris. By this I mean that I not only loved the beautiful, extraordinary aspects like the art, architecture, and grand boulevards, but I also loved the mundane things like the Métro and going to the miniscule, overcrowded grocery store on the corner of my host family’s street. Because my teachers and Valentine used the “sink or swim” method on me, I was able to gain a sense of confidence and independence that I would not have had if I had been able to rely on my parents or an IPhone telling me what to do or where to go. The idea of fully immersing yourself into a different culture isn’t always possible or attractive to everyone who travels to a different city or country, but for me it is impossible to revert to the type of vacation that doesn’t push the boundaries of my comfort zone.

xx