an american in paris

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Today was my first day at the french language school here in Paris.  To say it was intimidating would be an understatement.  Let me first say this: there is no english allowed.  One word of english is permitted very rarely if absolutely necessary.  Now, departing from a country where english is not only dominantly spoken but expected of its inhabitants and entering a world without it feels positively terrifying.  It’s as if english is the fuel in my engine, and without it I feel suddenly halted, handicapped and helpless.  Simple tasks like asking a question of my professor, the cashier, or a shop owner becomes a challenge of the highest degree, a guessing game in which the prize is another phrase learned, a carton of eggs successfully purchased or directions to the nearest bathroom received.  But it’s not all gloom and doom.  Being submerged in a place so foreign has already taught me so much.  In just 3 short days I’ve become familiar with the workings of le metro, the general outline of my neighborhood, and having a cup of tea in a french café all by myself.  Three things that loomed over me like a big Parisian rain cloud before this trip.  So here I am, in France, learning the language, making friends with foreigners (did I mention I am the only American in my class?), and riding the underground train with the locals.  You can be proud of me, I accept.  :)

5 thoughts on “an american in paris

  1. That sounds amazing!! Have been searching for a good language school in france! Could you tell me the name of the school you are going to??

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