A summer in France? Ugh, I’m so jealous! You’re going to have so much fun! My summer is so boring compared to yours! Yes, I’m #blessed to be spending three months in such a beautiful country with a rich culture, but I’m going to let you in on a little secret: it’s not perfect.
I never anticipated it being perfect, but no one could’ve prepared me for the change I’m currently experiencing. I’ve taken French for five years and did well in my classes. I’d be okay, right? It’s the 21st century, so we have FaceTime, Skype, iMessage, Facebook and ample more ways to communicate. We’d keep in touch, right? I knew people had problems in France; I’m not stupid or naive. I’d visited France before and loved the culture and vibe. I thought I knew what I was doing—well, as much as I could.
But the first week was not a piece of gâteau. It’s one thing to visit a country and order in the native language, to tell someone “have a good day” or to ask where the bathroom is. It’s a completely different thing to live there totally separated from your home culture. You may know how to order a café au lait, but can you explain that you’re too jet lagged to hang out? You want to be with people, but at the same time, that means speaking in a different language. And you don’t know how to express what you’re feeling or simply don’t have to energy.
Don’t get me wrong: I love France. The coffee here is fantastic. The macaroons are unlike anything I’ve tasted. The people are kind. Even the streets are quaint and the architecture breath-taking. The pace of life is slow; people aren’t glued to their phones. It’s no nightmare. But herein lies the problem: it’s not horrible here. So, why am I conflicted?
I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb. I may be able to dress and eat like a French woman, but the moment I open my mouth, you know I don’t belong here. Foreigner. Stranger. And the moment you find out I’m American (or most likely gather that from my accent), you have to ask what I think of Donald Trump. Oh là là! Talking about politics in English is complicated enough.
I called Starbucks to ask if they were open. The woman said yes, they were. And I responded with “hello, thank you.” Why did I say hello in the middle of the conversation?! In America I’m awkward too—hey, we all are! But not like this. It was a 30-second conversation; why can’t I even do that without a social error?
I wanted to send some letters to friends and family in the States, so I went to the post office. Simple, right? Wrong. There were glass cases with cellphones for sale inside and a bank on one side of the room. Huh? Where’s the post office? I pulled out my phone to google it, but an employee came up to me and said something in French. I didn’t understand him and asked him “what?” in French. I tried to say I wanted to buy stamps, and he responded in French and directed me to the desk across the room.
It’s daily things like these that you never thought twice about at home, but these encounters make me feel so insecure. When you move abroad, you say goodbye to your confidence. In America, I’m very extroverted and like to lead conversations. I’m definitely not shy and don’t mind talking to new people. But when you plop me down in a foreign country, just ordering a cup of coffee takes so much courage. I feel awkward simply being. It’s a humbling experience to say the least.
My pictures may be showing off my fancy cappuccino or nice view of the river, but know that life isn’t better or easier. Honestly, it’s harder. Yes, there’s an appeal to all things foreign, but it comes with unfamiliarity and with unfamiliarity, insecurity. For those living abroad and experiencing this culture shock, give yourself the grace to be and to adjust. Take lots of deep breaths, and don’t beat yourself up. It’s very easy to get frustrated, but don’t fall into that trap too soon. My friends and family remind me that these feelings are normal, but the journey is still difficult. But these moments are ones I could’ve never experienced in America. It’s hard now, but I’m excited to return a woman who’s experienced much growth and culture.
Bises,
Kristin
{What’s difficult about living abroad?}
