Forget Paris

How did I get here? (Paris that is)

When I told everyone I was moving to Paris to be an au pair for a French family, after the initial “who what where why how?” questions were out of the way, most people assured me, “It’ll be SUCH a good experience.”

That tends to be the euphemism for most uncomfortable, frighteningly new, awkward situations I get myself into. No matter how much I detest the place or the people, I can tell myself I’m building character and will be strong and independent and ridiculously prepared for anything else that might come my way in the future. At least that’s what I’m telling myself as I wash dishes while crying in some stranger’s kitchen in Paris. Yup, crying sweet, self-pity tears seems to be the trend this summer.

Unfortunately, there was no escape plan. As much as I would have rather just flown to Tulsa in the end, I got on a plane by myself in DFW and flew 9.5 hours to Charles de Gaulle airport. I sniffled getting on, during, and upon landing. “Oh God,” I kept thinking to myself, “What the hell am I DOING?”

Yes, everything in Europe is tiny. The toilets, the toilet paper, the people, the beds, the food servings. When I first saw my studio apartment on the sixth floor of the building, I was shocked. It was worse than a dorm room, crammed with a microwave, hot plate, a futon sorry-excuse-for-a-bed, and not-so-inviting shower smack dab in the room. And yet, the toilet was down the hall. My priorities would be toilet first, but this adventure was not about my priorities.

After spending some time studying abroad in London, I stupidly thought this would be no different. A great, beautiful, big city filled with museums and people intrigued by your American-ness and happy to talk to you. Go to pubs, hang out, meet people, ride the tube and buy lots of Cadbury candy. But it’s different here. I’ve never felt more like a confused, bewildered alien here. Everything is difficult to me. Museums (unlike London) are not free here. And…everything is in French! And…I can barely read French! I know silly food vocabulary words and how to mumble “pardon” if I bump into somebody…but my two years in college are completely useless. As soon as someone talks to me, I freeze. When I realize I badly need to ask, “Where is the toilet?” or “How much is this?” “Or, one strawberry tart and a café, please” I turn into a bumbling fool. It’s all very frustrating. Is every language this intimidating or just France?

Of course Paris has a well-earned reputation for being chic, sophisticated, and somewhat unfriendly to tourists. If I have to feel like a tourist every day for nine months I might as well give up, put on some khaki shorts, dorky tennis shoes, and a sweatshirt with “Harvard Class of ‘89” emblazoned on it.