Studying Abroad: Progressive or Regressive?

For those of you who haven't been following my blog, I got home on May fourth from studying in Aix-en-Provence, France for ten months.  It was the most wonderful experience of my life and I wouldn't trade it for the world.  However, being home has left me feeling slightly out of place socially.  Everyone talks about how studying abroad changes your life for the good and IT DOES. It also confuses the hell out of you when you return to your home country.

Exhibit A: The most obvious of changes for me was the language.  I spent 10 months hearing French, speaking French, reading French, writing French and thinking in French.  I did use English as well, but the mixing of the two languages seemed to turn my brain into mush for about a month and a half at home.  I started to forget English words and only know them in French.  Then I forgot words in English AND in French, leaving me as this stammering idiot who forgot simple words on a daily basis.  Thankfully my brain is adjusted back to English now although I hope that doesn't mean that I've lost all of my progress in French. *sigh*

Exhibit B: My biggest fear before I left for France was that everyone was going to forget about me.  Though this is not the case, I still feel behind in my own social life.  Life at home doesn't pause while you're away, unfortunately, and this has been made very clear to me!  I don't know half of my sorority now, my french professor had TWINS (I missed the entire pregnancy), my friends have new boyfriends, some friends had babies, and loads of people graduated.  I feel like I was in a coma for a year or something.

Exhibit C:  Last but not least, studying abroad is slightly regressive in the way that ALL I can think about is France.  I'm that annoying meme of the girl in the hipster glasses that starts every story with "When I lived in Europe."  I'm constantly comparing things to my year abroad like, "This is nothing like the goulash in Hungary!" or "Wine is so much better and cheaper in France, trust me."  I also find myself recommending my friends to restaurants they can't actually go to at the moment.  "If you like this, you need to try Pizza Capri." I feel like a whiner as well, because I miss cheap public transport and the café atmosphere.  I'm constantly thinking of where I can travel next weekend even though it is no longer plausible to take a flight to Italy for 40 euros.  I'm still flabbergasted by the amount of obese people in wheelchairs at Walmart.  Living in France for ten months progressed my cultural views and made me a more well-rounded person, but it also sort of ruined me in the USA.

 

Time flies: Farewell (for now) to my study abroad pals

I'm utterly flabbergasted that my year in Provence is ending.  My mother arrives in Aix on Friday.  I'll show her around my city and we'll visit Bordeaux..and then we'll fly home on May 4.
I can remember every little detail down to the very second of my first day in Aix-en-Provence.  I can still feel the emotions of fear, excitement, anxiety, sadness, and absolute and total bliss that I felt on September 8.  As cliché as this seems, it honestly feels like yesterday..but it wasn't yesterday.  It was 8 months ago.  I've been in France for 8 months and it feels like only a day has passed.

Just as I did last semester, I'm writing this in dedication to the friends I made that kept me grounded and sane, made me laugh, made me cry from laughing, and made my second semester (or year, for some of you that I've been with since September) a memorable experience.  I wouldn't trade a single one of our inside jokes for the world.  I know I'll see you again after we all leave France because I love you guys too much to fully say "goodbye" to you.  So here's just a bunch of photos of how cool my friends are.

 Sarah

 Alyssa

 Rachel

 Emily

 Ben



Time flies when you're having fun.

How French people know that I'm not French

Everywhere I go in France, it seems like the french people KNOW that I'm not french.  I've had waiters and store owners approach me and talk to me in English even before I've said a word.  This is both annoying (because all I want to do is speak French with them) and mind boggling (because HOW DO THEY KNOW?).  I've had my mind wrapped around this subject for quite some time but it was highlighted in my brain as very important subject matter today when I was walking into town.  I was just walking, minding my own business, when a guy approached me and said, "J'ai l'impression que tu n'habites pas la bas." Tranlsation: "I have the impression that you don't live here."  I hadn't said a single word out loud yet today and I was already spotted as a foreigner.  HOW DID HE KNOW?! Naturally, I responded as if I was an insulted French woman, "uhh, non. J'habite ici à Aix," and stormed off to a sunny terrace to drink a café au lait and read my notes with serious interest on my face as if to give off the impression of being French.
After this incident I took a step back and analyzed myself in comparison to a French woman and found three tell-tale signs that signal that I'm foreign.

1) My physical appearance:
This is the most obvious of signs.  Personally, I have a hard time telling the difference between a French woman and a woman from the states or any other European country from their faces alone.  However, something very different between myself and a French woman is our clothes.  Of course!  I dress very obnoxiously compared to the French.  Don't get me wrong, I love my closet and every piece of clothing inside it (perhaps a little too much) but my pieces of clothing would not be found in the closet of a French woman.  Heck, even when I'm wearing an outfit with all neutral colors, my outfits are still a bit too weird for the French.  Also, another obvious physical distinction is the beloved hair bow I continue to sport in my hair everyday...despite the fact that I'm 21 years old.  The only French females wearing hair bows are ages 2-6.  After that it's just too childish.  But hey, I think they're charming. :)

2)My mannerisms:
You don't realize how differently you act until you think about it.  For example, it is customary for an American to smile at any human you pass and make eye contact with.  It's a reflex by now, honestly.  If I make eye contact with you, you're getting a smile whether you want it or not.  And trust me, I don't think the French people want you to smile at them.  I get plenty of weird looks from doing that but it's habitual so I always do.
Another thing I do that the French do not, is pardon myself while walking through a crowd of people or if my shoulder brushes against another persons shoulder when I pass them.  Honestly, I have never heard a French person apologize for running into me, while I'm over here screaming, "DÉSOLÉE, PARDONNEZ-MOI" because I feel seriously bad for running into them.  Apologizing seems like a wasted effort to the French, I guess, which doesn't make them rude necessarily, but makes me kind of annoying.

3)My response time:
If, by some act of God, a French person doesn't assume I'm foreign already for the above reasons and speaks to me in French, he/she will know when I open my mouth.
I'm confident in my French for the most part and I've made so much progress with it this year, but I still doubt myself before I speak.  I understand what the French person is asking me, but I have to re-translate it again in my head to make sure and think about an appropriate response before saying it..therefore making my response time slower.  That extra 2 seconds it takes to reassure myself, tells the French person *SHE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND* so he/she switches to English.  This is a nasty habit that I hope to kick soon.  98% of the time, I know exactly what to say but I don't say it fast enough.  That's just the learning process I suppose.

Even when they speak to me in English, I still force my non-fluent French onto them by responding in French until they follow along.  I get my way eventually.  Hopefully in a year or two when I'm living in France again, I'll be able to tell you all that these coincidences have stopped occurring, but I'm sure they'll never fully stop unless I put more effort into morphing myself into a French woman.  Even though I'd love to be French, I'm just not, and I love myself too much to change SO GET USED TO IT FRANCE.

Modesty in the United States

I wanted to approach a topic that's been in the back of my mind for most of the time I've been in Europe: Modesty.

The majority of Americans know that nudity is not an issue in Europe (e.g., topless beaches, naked art) but there are other immodest qualities that give Europe its charm that also seems to make Americans uncomfortable.

Other than nudity, one example is the use of cuss words.  This seems like it's not a big deal, especially for the younger generations in the states.  Most people cuss after every other word (guilty!) and that's becoming normal vocabulary.  However, how many cuss words are allowed on television?
Don't strain yourself, I've comprised a list.
It is acceptable to say:
1)A** but NOT a**hole. Not sure why.
2)Damn
3)Hell
4)Bastard

It is not acceptable to say:
1)Sh**
2)F***
3)C***
4)P***y

If you're wondering why some of these are deemed acceptable, ask the FCC, because I have no idea.
Not only are the words on television censored, but also every song on the radio!  Is there a single radio station that doesn't change or bleep out words? That song by Cee-lo Green about his gold-digging ex-girlfriend was definitely NOT titled "Forget You."  Seriously, think about it!
However, the point of this exercise was to direct attention to the fact that songs on the radio are NOT censored in Europe.  I don't watch t.v. here but I'm willing to bet that it isn't.  There are also no mom's causing ruckus over it either.  Kids will hear bad words.  It's inevitable.

My second example of the prudence in the United States is strangely enough the lack of use of the word "toilet."
This sounds hilarious but it's SO true.  If I was to ask someone at a restaurant where the toilet was, it would make me, and the person I'm asking, feel very uncomfortable.  I feel like the only time you should use the word "toilet" is to tell a plumber that your toilet needs fixing.
Actually one time at a restaurant in France, my friend asked for the "salle de bain" or "bathroom" and the waiter laughed at her and was like "Why?  Do you need to take a shower?"  Why do we try to avoid saying the word "toilet?"
The room with all of the toilets is called a restroom...why?  You're not taking a nap in there.  Everyone knows what we're doing, yet we feel weird saying it.  Heck, my french professor last semester would just be like "Je dois faire pee-pee."  What professor at home would blatantly tell you that she has to pee?

These are only two examples but I think they make my point.  Why is it that Americans are so uptight?  Or are Europeans just very easy-going?  I guess you can form your own opinion.

Don't forget to do what you love

Recently I decided to start going to Catholic mass every week again.  Something made me miss the community of it.  It's comforting seeing the same happy faces every week, doing the same things as you.   I also always liked going and hearing the homily...basically getting advice on how to be  a good person is needed in my life I think.
This blog is definitely NOT about me becoming some born-again christian who was "saved" or to tell you all to go to church because "ya'll need JESUS."
I started going back because I wondered why I ever stopped going in the first place.  I liked going. Why would I have stopped?
While in Mass last night, listening to the choir sing every hymn in perfect harmony, I was reminded of the large portion of my life I spent singing in my own church choir.  We had a nun who ran it at Sacred Heart named Sister Gloria-- sweetest woman EVER-- and she would give me solos to sing during communion and praised me as if I had the voice of an angel.  Trust me, I wasn't that good, but I had so much fun with it!  After graduating high school and moving out of my parents' home, I rarely found time to sing.  I didn't want to in my dorm because my whole floor would hear me.  Sometimes I'd belt out my favorite song in the car, but really I just stopped singing altogether.  It took me until sitting in mass last night to realize how much I missed it.  So do you know what I did?  I sang in the shower.  LOUDLY.  I was a little nervous that I'd irritate my neighbors...but if they are allowed to scream and run down the hallways at 3am on a Tuesday, I think I should be allowed about 20 minutes of bad singing every night, don't you?
And there are other things that I stopped doing that were once things I loved.  Like writing poetry for example.
Why do we stop doing the things we enjoy when we get older?  Is it because we don't have the time?  Everyone is so worried about wasting time but I think if you're filling your days with satisfying activity, your day is not wasted!  Therefore I'm going to take more time out my day to sing horribly, do the time step, write a poem, cook something interesting, and love each day a little bit more.

6 months down, 2 months to go.

Clearly I haven't kept up with my blogging every week thing.  I apologize to all two of you whom actually care about and read my blog...seriously how do you go on without reading my witty takes on life in France every week?!  Bless your hearts.
But seriously,  it's been a while since I've written about Aix-en-Provence so I thought I'd summarize a bit now.  Today marks the 2-month countdown to my return to the states.  Nuts, right?  It's going to be so hard to leave this beautiful town but alas, I cannot live in my fantasy world forever.
Over the past 6 months I've spent here, I've grown to love many-a-thing as well as create a deep boiling hatred for another.

Something I love:  Eating lunch outside on a breezy spring day in a park or on a majestic fountain.
Something I hate:  The swarm of exactly one million pigeons that surrounds you whilst you eat your lunch.

Something I love:  The smell when you walk past one of the many Savon de Marseille shops or Lavande boutiques that makes your nose ever so happy.
Something I hate:  The cigarette smell that automatically re-enters your nostrils after you've passed said shops, which is created by the crowds of oh-so posh young Aixois who look so damn cool but smell so damn strongly of Marlboro.

Something I love:  The "Joie de vivre" attitude of the French.  Who doesn't love wasting time drinking a shot of black coffee talking over deep tormenting issues?...or just starting class late everyday?
Something I hate:  The "Joie de vivre" attitude when trying to get something done.  Oh..the poste has a 2 hour lunch break today...how sweet..I guess I'll just sit here and get swarmed by flocks of pigeons for the next 120 minutes because waking all the way home is NOT happening.

Something I love:  The fact that the university trusts that I'll retain my knowledge without giving me 3 hours of homework everyday..instead they give me zero.
Something I hate:  Oh wait..I actually hate that because guess what, Sciences-Po? NOT RETAINING ANYTHING.

Something I love:  The temperate weather here in the south of France.  While everybody is freezing back at home, it's a nice 60 degrees in Aix.
Something I hate:  The fact that now if it's 50 degrees or less I feel obligated to wear a heavy coat and scarf because otherwise I'll just freeze to death.

Something I love:  HAVING AN H&M RIGHT HERE AT MY DISPOSAL.
Something I hate:  Spending all of my money at H&M...

Something I love: Baguettes.  Seriously what is life without baguettes? I don't think I can go back to that squishy stuff we call bread at home.
Something I hate:  The fact that baguettes are stale after a day...so when I buy it, I have to eat the whole thing that day.  Either that, or suck it up and get lock-jaw tomorrow.

Damn, I love France.
And I hate that I have to leave in two months.

How I Recovered from Homesickness Abroad

Over the holidays I felt a SERIOUS type of homesickness.  I honestly wanted to drop everything and go home. I'm assuming I felt this way because most of the friends I had made for the semester went home AND it was Christmas...the happiest holiday filled with family and laughter and tradition and food..and I spent it sick in a hotel room in London.  If that doesn't make someone homesick I'd wonder whether or not that person even has a home.
However after about 3 weeks of legitimately HATING France and everything about it, I started school again, made new friends, and remembered why I loved Aix-en-Provence and on a larger scale, Europe.
When I was freaking out about my desperate need to return home, my friends and family got the worst of it.  I'm apologizing here for my constant complaining and not believing you when you'd say, "once you start school again, I know you'll be happy again."  You know who you are. Thank you for dealing with my melodramatic ass.
Also, I received gifts from my best friend Alyssa for my birthday/Christmas that were basically the epitome of Zoë in a box and those presents meant so much to me!!  Knowing that I still have friends back home who love me and think of me (even if we talk much less than usual) gives me the strength to see the world in a positive light and make the most of my time abroad!
I just got another package from home today that was my mother's Valentine's gift complete with gummy Krabby Patties and a Nerds Rope (my favorites).  Also inside the box was a LOT of gifts from my sister Haviland for my birthday/Christmas that were highly reminiscent of my childhood.  There was a DVD of The Pagemaster-one of our favorites growing up- a black tattoo choker with a mood stone, and some vanilla hand cream and soap.  However the best gift of all, and I'm not sure how she pulled it off, was an EXACT replica of the white blanket I slept with every night as a kid.  I stole my original white blanket from my mom when I was like, 3, and slept with it up until it was a bunch of tatters with patches and a backing so it wouldn't fall apart...I think I was maybe 7 or 8.  That thing was my lifeline.  To make this gift even more perfect, she had my Mamanana wash it and keep it at her house until it was shipped to me so it would smell like her house.  If you know me at all, you know that my grandparents' house is my absolute favorite place to be.  The 5-year-old Zoë inside me is crying with happiness (and the 21-year-old Zoë on the outside cried quite a bit too).  As juvenile and silly it seems to receive a "White Blankey" for my 21st birthday, it was exactly what I needed as a reminder that even though I'm over 4,000 miles away from home, I have an amazing family that loves me to return to and I couldn't be more blessed!

In addition, I'm completely over all the homesick feelings so thank you again to everyone who supported me. Actually I want to stay in Europe forever now.