After an 8 hour flight, 6 hour wait in CDG, 2 hour train, and an unnecessary amount of croissants, I have arrived! Where one may ask? My home for the next four months; Angers, France!
I hopped off the TGV at Saint-Laud Station with a dream, an overweight suitcase, and a 50L hiking pack, then it hit me, I’M IN FRANCE. I was greeted to Angers with a new sense of sight, hearing, and smell (particularly smell on this day due to the 90°F weather and lack of the deodorant belief system within France). My mind was racing.
A small group of the ESSCA international students (including myself, another American student, four Chinese students, and one Mexican student) were driven back to our residence (Fac-Habitat). After the short stick-shift drive through Angers we passed by Château D’Angers, several boulangeries, and countless Renaults, Piegots, and Fiats speeding alongside us down the narrow roads. It hit me again, I’M IN FRANCE. My heart sank lower and my fear came out, what am I doing here? I don’t know the people? I don’t know the language? I know nothing.
In lieu of numerous croissants I had consumed that day, I was starving. My hunger outweighed my fear and I decided to search for something to eat. After an unsuccessful trip to an Asian Supermarket (Nouvelle Asie), I had nothing (meaning an uncooked baguette and Perrier) and no sense of where to go to fulfill my appetite. As I pouted down the stone sidewalk back to my apartment, I caught a glimpse of it. ‘It’ being a yellow and green brightly lit American logo that clearly stood out, SUBWAY. Finally, I thought, until I stepped foot in the American fast-food chain. I DON’T SPEAK FRENCH. And for the eighth time that day, my heart sank again and I feared the forthcoming conversation.
I was next in line and before the sandwich artesian spoke, I exclaimed “bonjour, je parle anglais.” As I awaited for their response in fear, she went in the back and grabbed (an English speaking) employee. I was beyond relieved, I did not have to make-shift my sandwich order with my amateur French speaking skills. I had made it. From Detroit to Paris from Paris to Angers and to Subway. I did it. As I pranced back to my apartment with a view (perk of being on the eight floor) to eat my American dinner I sighed with relief. I survived the voyage, I’M IN FRANCE.
