I write this at nearly 1 pm, which is 7am by the time of the many Atlantans who will be reading this post. So, I suppose this will be an early entry. My last post was essentially composed of an unending list of questions, questions of what it would mean to suddenly be absent from the community that has shaped me. Many of the posts preceding questioned whether I was properly equipped for my indisputably familiar world being replaced by another fully composed of the strange. The premise of the latter question was flawed. Upon exiting the plane, I realized that language, often referred to as the great divide, potentially is the sole element separating a world that has more similarities than differences. The family that has welcomed me into their home jokes with one another about favorites in perhaps the same way that my own would. They too all contribute to complete the house work. Similarly to how America has its own complex history that factors into the status quo, France has endured a number of conflicts that affect the daily lives of people today. For example in France, there exists primarily only Catholic and Protestant churches due to a decades long conflict beginning in 1562 in which they each eliminated any person claiming to be a religion other than their own.
As I left the plane one of the first things I noticed the presence of ads you could just as easily find in America. Strung across the ceiling of baggage claim was an advertisement for the wildly popular Samsung Galaxy S6. You can find the multiple brands of shampoo boasting about their New York origins in the local store just as you could in any shop in Atlanta. Some things are universal.
However, I have been struck by the immediate alterations I’ve noted in my own character since arriving. Suddenly, I am responsible. Many of the bad habits that nearly drove my parents to a lunatic asylum back home vanished almost instantaneously with my arrival in a different place. I don’t forget to remove my clothes from the floor upon finishing my bath. I don’t use the swear words that I have been known to let slip before. I remember to ensure that my phone is charged when leaving the house and reduce my usage if it is nearly dead. But most notably, I pay attention to my surroundings to a greater degree than I ever have before. Perhaps it is because everything is new and holds a special interest, but also with every sign I read and every conversation I listen to between my host mom and perhaps the person beside her who is also picking “la pomme de terre” (potatoes) from the ground, I learn something new. I am one step closer to becoming fluent and wielding the French language as to my heart’s desire.
I have been in the nation of France for almost two full days exactly. I arrived at my new home after a 7 hour plane ride and 4.5 hour drive from the airport to Rennes littered with rest stops. I have been in my new room for only a day and a half. Though I realize that everything is new, it too seems oddly familiar. Already, in calling home I must stop myself from switching between French and English. Writing so much now in English feels bizarre. Many of my apprehensions have faded to impertinence, and though I only yesterday bid adeau my home, staying up all night with my family to make the most of my last day in Atlanta, I can now say I have a new home here as well. It feels great.
Many of my apprehensions have been put to rest, and I eagerly anticipate beginning my junior year on tomorrow.
Many of my apprehensions have been put to rest, and I eagerly anticipate beginning my junior year on tomorrow.