Finding Myself Abroad

I never could have guessed how I would find myself in France. I was there to study the French language and culture for several months. After a few weeks abroad, I was proud of my heritage but felt more myself in a coastal city of France or in a Parisian café than walking down the streets of my hometown. I breathed France. The culture was my lifeblood. I relished the sibilation of French liasons and its soft slurring consonants.
I’ll never forget the culmination of this experience; I travelled to Paris with fellow students from my program at the end of our time abroad. We got lunch from street vendors and sat along the Seine, kicking our feet above the water and waving to tourists snapping photos from the river boats. We took the métro to the Père Lachaise Cemetary to seek out some familiar names like Oscar Wilde and Edith Piaf. We tried to contain our laughter after explaining to a fellow American, who mistook us for young French, how to find Jim Morrison's grave. We were chatting away in French when he approached us, asking, "Jim Morrison? Jim Morrison?" and pointing to his t-shirt, which displayed the rocker's visage. We supplemented our French instructions, which he didn't understand, with hand gestures. We spent the remainder of the day in and out of the métro and wandering through museums. Then we strolled down the Champs-Elysées like natural Parisians. We stopped at a Haagen Dazs, where we spent almost 63 euros on ice cream! I could hear Edith Piaf like a soundtrack in my head: “Moi, je ne regrette rien…!” We had no regrets.
While walking alongside these girls, teasing each other with bilingual jokes, I remember thinking to myself, “I have never been happier than in this moment.” I was struck by how cliché it sounded but how true it felt. I was in the city of lights and of love, Paris. I was living the dreams of so many by walking these streets. I had worried that Paris would disappoint me, that it would be dirty, colorless, or mediocre. My fears were groundless; Paris was in every way as lovely and timeless as anyone had said, perhaps more so. I was so content to walk those streets, taking in the sights and the smells. We had nowhere to be but in the moment. We have nothing to do but to marvel in the wonders of the city. Even still, I keep in touch with those girls. We’ll laugh and reminisce, saying, “Remember that one time? In Paris?” Of course I do. I will for the rest of my life.