In the following stories, I write from the perspective of an outsider. The “Before” story occurs at the beginning of my study abroad while the “After” story occurs on the last day. Then I reflect on what I wrote.
Before:
On my way to work I hop onto the overcrowded metro and hold on to one of the metal poles. I look over to my side to see a young woman, probably in her teens, standing next to a short old man. She’s wearing a thick, black rain jacket zipped almost all the way up her neck, giving her the appearance of a marshmallow. This look contradicts her black skinny jeans and white Adidas sneakers, which is an interesting choice for a rainy day. It’s obvious the two are together because she huddles abnormally close to him. He tries to make conversation with her in French, but her words come stumbling out and her accent slips – she’s American. We get off on the same stop and I walk behind this odd pair through Place Bellecour. It’s drizzling a little bit and the old man is holding up an umbrella. He’s very petite, barely reaching 5 ft, and the girl struggles to stay under the umbrella — her head keeps knocking into it. Her gaze bounces from one place to the next, taking in everything for what seems like the first time. She clutches her backpack straps with both hands and dodges puddles on the ground. The old man tries to make conversation again and she repeatedly responds with “oui” and nods her head as if that was her only way of communication. As they come to a crosswalk, her stare remains transfixed on the giant Ferris wheel in the center of Place Bellecour. The man robotically turns left as the girl starts to turn right. She quickly shakes herself out of her daze and runs back to the man’s side. It’s evident she has no idea where she is.
After:
As I sit on a bench by the river in Vieux Lyon, I see two girls (one blonde, the other brunette) make their way across the street and land in a parking lot, divided by a median. They proceed to bounce along the median as if they made it. The shorter one is wearing a colorfully striped sweater and loose black jeans. Her yellow sunglasses highlight her blonde hair and reflect her surroundings, shining almost as bright as her smile. The taller girl wears a checkered overcoat and licks gelato off her ice cream cone. They seem to be having a great day. As they walk, the blonde girl hops on and off the median as the brunette walks in a straight line, focusing on her treat. They stroll with a newfound confidence and it’s like they’ve been walking these streets for years. At first glance this makes them appear to be French, but nobody in Lyon walks and eats at the same time. They stop on this red bridge called Passerelle du Palais de Justice. It’s smaller than the other bridges in Lyon and looks majestic in the sunlight. The brunette tries to take some pictures of the blonde, but she won’t stop moving around. They look like a small, colorful tornado of smiles and laughs. She finally gives up and they walk to the other end of the bridge. Here they take some more pictures and this time the blonde girl cooperates. Their radiating confidence makes them appears to be locals, but I know for a fact they’re not from here.
Reflection:
Writing both of these stories from the perspective of a French outsider made me realize how much I changed in such a short amount of time. I always say to myself “the first time you do something is always going to be the hardest, but every time after that gets easier and easier.” On the first day of school, my host dad walked with me. It took 30 minutes and the city was a bit overwhelming. I’m not used to riding in an overcrowded metro and walking so far to get to school. I completely depended on him and refrained from talking because I barely knew French. I was also insecure because I was in a new country and in the process of adjusting to a new culture. However, I was right. Every walk to school after that became easier and before long I could get to school and around the city without looking at a map. I became a seasoned professional.
As I walked around the city on my last day, I could feel myself radiating a confidence that I lacked the first day. I knew where I was at all times and felt comfortable speaking in French to anyone. It was an amazing feeling. At the beginning of my study abroad, I knew I could get to this point of comfort, but that it’d take a while. It was worth my patience and I’m glad I pushed through the language barrier and learned the geography of the city. In the “after” story, Morgan and I were walking home from our last lunch in Lyon. We ate quenelles, gratin, and bread. Then, after this wonderful lunch, we made room in our stomachs for gelato. It was sunny enough to wear sunglasses but cool enough to wear a sweater. It was a beautiful day full of laughter and smiles — a great way to end our study abroad experience.
I know that I am capable of becoming comfortable with new situations, but it just takes me some time. I don’t have a lot of patience, which was something I really had to work within Lyon because learning a language doesn’t occur overnight. As I went along, I attained a better grasp of French culture, which helped me maneuver my way throughout the city and the people. Through my experience, I learned that French people do not rush anything with food. For example, usually after a meal in the United States everyone takes off right away, but in France you’re supposed to stay and talk; the waiters don’t give you the bill until you ask for it. So, after my lunch with Morgan, we stayed in the restaurant, chatted for a bit, and then left. We didn’t rush and it was nice to just enjoy ourselves without pressure from the restaurant to leave. Also, something I noticed in France is that nobody walks and eats at the same time. If they are eating street food, they sit down, face each other, and enjoy the day. French culture really is the epitome of the saying “good food and good company.” In the story I mentioned above, Morgan and I were eating her gelato and walking, which was not very cultural of us. It felt unnatural to do that because it seemed like we were rushing, which we kind of were because we were trying to do a lot in one day.
I learned a lot of the culture through passive experiences in that nobody specifically told me the “rules” of French culture. Instead, I observed French people during my 10 weeks and tried adapting to their style of living. I felt pretty adapted by that last day and I ended up liking a lot of their cultural aspects, way more than American culture. I learned things without even realizing it and I incorporate this French mold of myself in my everyday life.