Dear France

Dear France,

I can hardly believe that four months flew by so quickly. When I left in August it seemed like an impossibly long expanse of time; the longest amount of time I'd ever been away from my family, not to mention at the farthest distance, and the biggest, scariest adventure I'd ever set my mind to. But also the most wonderful adventure. And there are so many things I am going to miss.

I will miss the cobblestone streets of Lille's centre-ville, its beautiful Grand Place and the streets that wind around it. I will miss the bakeries, cafés and restaurants with some of the best food in the world. I will miss visiting the open air markets on Sundays and cooking together in the kitchen every night. I will miss after school trips to Auchan (even if I won't really miss Auchan itself) and stops at the Friterie in Villeneuve D'Ascq for fries, mayonnaise and fricandelle. I will miss saying "bonjour" or "bonsoir" to every passerby in Triolo, even if I never really met them or knew their name. I will even miss my tiny room, with its minuscule bathroom and linoleum floor.

I will miss Lille 3 and its labyrinth of hallways. I will miss eating lunch in Club Ulysse, Florés, and "le moins cher." I will miss hearing the cashier at Florés shout "Panini Chévre!" in that distinctive voice at least three times a day, and the man at Resto Etudiant knowing my order before I can even say it. I will miss Maxime saying "How are you! I love you!" in his endearing French accent. I will miss talking about classes and gossiping about professors with my friends over paninis each day.

There are admittedly some things I will not miss, like the difficulties of dealing with French administration and the constant uncertainty that comes with speaking a foreign language every day. But, then again, I may even miss those things, too.

There is nothing I will miss more, however, than the people I've met.

I will miss Alexandre, with his hilarious snapchats and interested questions about my day. He was one of the first friends I made, and one of the best.

I will miss Claire and Fleur, the two French students brave enough to be partners with Ginny and I on the first day of our communications class. They always put up with our bad French, constant confusion, and worrying when we worked on the final presentation together.

I will miss Marie and Nicolas, the fearless leaders of Club Ulysse.

I will miss Nicolas' excitement for English expressions (you can't hang!) and his willingness to teach us just as many in French (Il pleut comme vache qui pisse!). I will miss his warm smile every time I walked into Ulysse and his exaggerated fibs that I could never identify. I will miss Marie's constant sweetness and her welcoming demeanor. I will miss her kind questions and her thoughtfulness. And I will always envy her charisma and sense of style.

I will miss Elodie, my amazing Tandem partner. I will miss her patience with me, her wonderful stories and her sense of humor. I will miss just talking with her, in French or in English, and learning about her life and teaching her about mine.

I will miss Laetitia, and her wonderful sass. I will miss talking about boys with her and having her correct my French mistakes. I will miss sitting with her at lunch in Club Ulysse and going to movies in the centre-ville.

I will miss Valérie, the best Erasmus marraine I could have asked for. I will miss cooking American specialties in her kitchen and discussing current events. I will miss her kindness and her caring smile.

I will miss Julie, one of the sweetest people I've ever met. I will miss dinner parties in her tiny apartment, and her constant call for one more glass of wine. I will miss her fondness for tupperware and her stories about studying abroad in Bulgaria.

I will miss Daniel, our trusty Dutch friend. I will miss his accent and his stories about the "horrible lady" and the students at the Lycée Professionnel. I will miss cooking dinner with him and his instinct to give us food whenever he could (usually Dutch). I will miss his Friesian pride and his awkward hugs.

I will miss these people, and so many more. Thank you so much for helping to make my study abroad experience such an amazing one. I promise I'll be back soon.

Bisous,
Meg

...

The Problem With Trying to Do Study Abroad 'Right'

Photo courtesy of Google Images.

As my semester abroad begins to draw to a close (What? It's not over yet! It can't be over yet! I'm in denial.), I have been thinking a lot about my experience here and the expectations I had when I left the United States in August.

Over the summer, almost everyone I talked to had questions; Where was I going? What was I going to study? How much was I planning to travel? But aside from questions, I also received lots of advice. Some came from experienced travelers, people who had studied abroad themselves, or people who had been to the region. But there was also a lot of advice based on stereotypes, secondhand stories, and pure assumption. 

After a while I began to realize that I had received a lot of conflicting advice. Some people told me to avoid other Americans and English speakers as much as possible, while others told me that making friends with the girls from my university would make it easier to transition. I was told not to travel too much, because I wouldn't truly get to know my city or the people in it, and then told by someone else to travel as much as possible, because when would I get another opportunity? But despite all of these conflicting recommendations, there was one common thread connecting them all; people told me over and over again, "You've gotta do it right!"

Well, of course I wanted to do it right. I would hate to waste an experience like this. So I prepared, and I researched, and I planned. I read every blog there was to read, I made lists of places I wanted to visit, and I looked up every picture of Lille I could find. Some would have called me a bit obsessed, but I prefer to use the term thorough. 

But, here's the problem with advice, and preparation, and research. Once you actually get there, almost nothing is ever how you expected it to be. That's not to say that you shouldn't prepare at all - knowing things like how to get from the metro to your hotel beforehand is always a good idea, but at the end of the day, there's no way you can really know what to expect.

Throughout my semester here, and especially at the beginning, I found myself worrying about whether I was meeting my own expectations, and even the expectations of others. Was I traveling enough? Was I traveling too much? Was I speaking enough French? Was I spending too much time with the other Americans? I was so afraid of wasting my time that I sometimes couldn't enjoy the amazing things I was experiencing. Well, I guess I wouldn't say that. I loved my time here. But sometimes I did worry, as I tend to do.

I think that's because I didn't want to let myself, or anyone else who'd helped me get here, down by "wasting" this experience. To me, that would be a failure. And, as anyone who knows me would know, I'm not a person who copes well with failure. But one of the most important things being here has taught me is that it's okay to mess up sometimes. Things are not always going to turn out the way you wanted them to. You'll miss your train, you'll get yelled at by a professor, you'll lose your phone in a taxi (something I've done twice). Hell, if you're in a language program like me, you'll probably fail a few assignments. And that's okay. 

So my advice (and yes, I realize I just finished saying that I received too much advice) to anyone embarking on a study abroad adventure sometime soon is to leave expectations behind as much as you can. Prepare as much as you need to, but don't let the image of study abroad you've created in your head keep you from enjoying the real experience. Don't try to do it "right." Just enjoy every moment, as it comes.