Survival of an Exchange Student- Chapter 1

Bonjour tout le monde, 

I have been in France for 2 1/2 weeks and I am going to give you a rundown of my life since the last time I posted about Paris and my first days of school. 

I survived my first week of French school without a single tear shed. I pride myself on that and think I am doing really well, and hope it is not just "the honey moon phase". If it is, I am going to kick life in the face when it's all over because I am having fun, still not understanding, but learning in a content way. 

I have made four really good friends in my base class, and three others outside of class. I have to thank god for Lulu (short for Lucas) and Dimitri on their ability to translate and help me communicate on a primal level or I would be constantly saying "je ne comprends pas" or just nodding my head, smiling and trying to look happy. I have also been offered more cigarettes in the past two weeks than ever before, and if I have one of them around they get to the point of yelling at the person offering after talking about my disdain towards smoking. I'm okay with it though. Also I may have mentioned once that I can't do drugs and now everyone in the school knows not to offer me any because they don't want me to go home early. I think that's a good thing. 

Moving on, lets talk about my classes. Lets start by saying something I would never EVER think I would ever say. I love French class. My prof is by far the best teacher I have. Not because she can speak fluent English (although she never does) but because she has me do things regardless of how basic the task is in class to help me learn French. Every day she will walk over to me and in a very slow and articulated way, she gives me a task she wants completed by the end of class. Sometimes it's translate a page, one time it was pick out words I knew and understood in her lecture, another one was understand a paragraph in a very complicated piece of French literature. Sometimes she has me do the same assignment as everyone else but just doesn't expect the same level of quality or quantity. She just wants an effort. I feel like I have learned more in her class than I have in any of the other "one size fits all" classes I have. 

My second favorite class is history. I need to thank someone here first, before I continue. I would like to thank my history teacher from last yearfor allowing me to do a quick one hour presentation on the history, government, and politics of America in this class. I also am able to answer random questions I the teacher asks me about the US they may be talking about. I am able to understand the general idea of some lessons in French because of that man. 

Math is impossible. I can hardly understand it in English, then put in in French, might as well have me become a rocket scientist without any education. At least my teacher is understanding. I tried to math the other day and lost. 

Spanish is irrelevant at this point.

My English class is a little frustrating at times because I am at such a high level and everyone else is still learning the basics, but I try to be helpful. 

In other news, I came in first in my class for the pacer test. I got 106. Thirty laps above the second place, which I am very proud of. I also got to visit Lille which is gorgeous and see my awesome friend Kinzie for about 20 minutes in the city which I was really happy about. I also have to say that the only money I have spent that is mine is for a water bottle at the airport in New York. Talk about stingy. I also got to play air soft with my host brother and his group which ranged from 18 year olds to 12 year olds. I also later found out, the oldest Gregoire (who also spoke fluent English) hosted a girl from the US through AFS, and she is the reason I am with the family I am with. And with that, it wraps up week one. 

On Monday night, my host mom and I went to the local ice rink, which is about a twenty minute drive from my house to go to my first hockey practice in France. It was great. The level was much higher than I expected, and I felt so out of shape, becoming exhausted quickly with drills I would be able to do with ease by the end of last season, which was frustrating. My equipment was a bit too big for me and as a result, quite cumbersome but I did fine and was glad I got my skates sharpened before I came. I felt like I didn't disappoint my new coach, whose name is Fred... The irony of it. I made a good representation of York hockey in my first practice instead if the coaches wondering why this American was here disrupting the flow of practice. 

Aside from hockey, week two was the same as the first week with the exception of Tuesday. I wasn't going to include this, but I decided I need to. This is a testimony of my year abroad, the good, the, bad, the pretty, and the ugly. So here is a at the time account of what happened on Tuesday. 

"Tuesday Sep 17, 11:34 AM

Today is the first really hard day. I know know what people meant by saying it was going to be difficult. I feel empty and angry and sad and depressed and all I want to do is understand. It's one of the most difficult things I have ever felt in my life. 

As I write this I am sitting in the bathroom of the third floor locked in a stall on the verge of crying and being terrified everytime I hear the sound of footsteps clacking by coming to tell me I can't be hear and yell at me in a language I can't comprehend and get frustrated with myself for not being able to understand. 

The day started off fine, waking up at 9 to go to school at 10 to help a teacher with her English class and talk about American culture. After the class, I went to the library, where the evil librarian screamed at me that it was closing for an hour. I was terrified and went upstairs where the previous week my class had a study hall. I could not find my class, when a plump lady came by and tried to help me, and it ended up her screaming at me "bibliotech!" I had no idea what a bibliotech was so I noded my head, terrified and stressed and said merci. 

I then looked in my dictionary and saw bibliotech was library. Again I felt like I was going to cry, something I do not ever feel on a daily basis. So I went to the library and a nice librarian let me in and read for a little bit, before the evil one came back, chased me out and said it was closed until 12! 

I almost lost it coming up the stairs, feeling like I didn't belong and afraid I would come across a teacher who would yell at me in French! None of my classmates are in the building to help me, and I don't know where to go. 

Which brings me back to being locked in a bathroom stall stressing more than I ever have before. I feel homesick, tired, stressed, like I am not learning any of the language and just afraid. I was doing really well in terms of all of these emotions being controlled  but I guess I went over the deep end. 

I hate this school and the disorganization behind it all. Nothing is ever set in stone, I can't find people because of how discombobulated everything is. Nothing here is steady and rhythmic, it's all chaos, which normally I thrive in, but I miss the order and actuality of Dallastown. I miss the constant flow of classes, when you need to be here, when you can't be here, and I miss my friends and family back home! I hate this feeling!

I really needed to put this down because I felt like it was really important, regardless of me feeling like absolute shit this very moment. 

I will update this in a few hours and say how I am feeling and if it has improved or gotten worse."

One hour later, 1:46 PM

I left the bathroom around 12 and immediately saw Valentin, a boy in my class and more importantly, a familiar face. That made me feel a million times better right away. Someone who wouldn't scream at me in French even though I couldn't understand, just someone I could try to talk to and show gratitude for an unknown reason to him. 

I went to lunch and sat with Lulu who is only there on Tuesdays, but it was still a hard lunch. I felt better, but I still had mild side effects from the state of depression I had earlier and I couldn't shake them. I am now at the end of my two hour break and I can't bring myself to be social so I am sitting on a bench with my headphones trying to just de-stress. Everyone is around me talking in French really fast and I can't understand or communicate and it sucks. I just can't wait to have back my ability to communicate."

So after arguing with myself about putting that in, there it is. The bad and the ugly. That is the lowest point I have has since I have been here and I don't want to have that same feeling again. This just shows the ups and downs of being an exchange student. One minute your fine and the next your on the verge of tears for any reason. The perks of being an exchange student, your pretty much tempermental about everything and your always tired. #perksofbeinganexchangestudent

I also wanted to say that I don't feel this way at all and it was just a temporary thing to feel. It's difficult to get me to that low point so when I do get there, everything that pops into my head is negative. I'm glad I did decide to write that down as this is an account of my year here and I need to stay honest to what happens. 

So moving on to happy thoughts, yesterday, Saturday we went to the neighbors for a cocktail party for a friend get together, and as a unofficial welcome party to the Americans. When I say Americans, I mean I am not the only new American in the neighborhood. A military family from Colorado just moved in about two weeks before I arrived and have four kids, none of which around my age. I suppose this is a good thing, but a bit of a let down at the same time. They are all really nice, and said I can come over for a quality American burger whenever I want. 

And then today, I went to my host dads sisters house for a family get together for her birthday. I had a great time, getting to walk into the small town about five minutes away, eat mouse au chocolat and listen to my host grandmother in law sing "Summertime" to me as well as a French song that I didn't catch the name of. It was great. Everyone was really embarrassed but I thought it was super neat. It was exhausting listen to everyone speak French as it always is, but I got a little homesick being at a family gathering. I was fine, but it was just a tad bit depressing. Everyone was super nice and trying to help me understand, even the two year old and four year old girls, who didn't quite grasp the concept of me being unable to speak French tried to help me out in their own cute way. 

And as promised, here are some pictures from, well, everything with a brief description for each one.

This is the first group of Frenchies in our exciting ice breaker; spare the one boy who ùwas going to Italy

A group of mes famille français: or the greatest people who came to France

The best seat on the entire plane to Zurich. I am one lucky guy.

I am well aware that this is the worst picture of me possible, but this is also my face walking off of the plane in Paris.

A small group of the Americans in Paris. Mes famille français part 2

And now we have some lovely pictures taken in Paris. Above is photography, below is me being social with fun people.

Rock on in front of the Eiffel Tower

Spread the love!

Natalie and I, from begining to middle to the end, we are together.

And here we are skipping together in front of the Eiffel Tower... We are such dorks

Belle Lille

I love Lille

So yeah. That is all I have for now and let me conclude by saying that french keyboards are gross. 

Thanks everyone for reading and until next time!

Au revoir,

-Aidan