Category: France

A review of my third week in tours, france

“Grown-ups never understand anything for themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.” – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Le Petit Prince // The Little Prince

“OK, c’est à toi,” Noa indicated that it was my turn to roll the die and move my little, plastic horse along the perimeter of the board. Noa is the 5 year-old grandson of Chantal, my host mom, and he was instructing me on how to play one of his favorite jeux de société (board games), Les Petits chevaux (the little horses). First you have to roll a six, then, starting from right outside your stable, you make your way around the spaces until you get back to your stable which consists of six places. To get to the first spot marked with a “1”, you first have to roll a one, then to advance you roll a two to get to the next spot, and it continues until you’ve gotten past all six spaces. To win, you have to once again roll a six, then you can proudly install your tired, little horse in the middle of the board… and start all over with a second horse. It’s not difficult to play, but as you can imagine, it can become tedious, especially if your opponent passes you up forcing you to restart all the way at the beginning.

Noa did his best to stay patient with me. He liked that I could speak English and he would exclaim “Yes!” or “What??” every once in a while (which he learned from French “Dora”), but beyond that I was just an American, blonde grown-up with French abilities not quite as good as his own and whom he’d only known for a little bit. As I was slightly distracted by a conversation with Chantal and the French news stations playing in the background, he had to remind me frequently to take my turn or re-roll the dice. Additionally, he made sure I was facing my game piece in the right direction, because I was a jockey who had a tendency to point my horse’s nose backwards and, according to Noa, “he has to go this way, you can’t go the other way!” I had a lot to learn about the rules of the race from this young professional.

We played a few other games, too, like a card-matching game and a game Noa invented which consisted of taking the dried-up moche fleurs (ugly flowers) from Mamie Chantal’s flower pots and throwing them over the side of the balcony (with her permission and adult supervision, of course). People would pass by to enter the apartment and he would warn them, “Attention ! Je jette des fleurs ! Watch out, I’m throwing flowers!” and he would then watch the petals spiral down through the air and fall into the street, sometimes successfully managing to drop them into a puddle. As with Les Petits chevaux, Noa was also a master of the matching game where he won every time except once when we tied. Each time he found a set of cards, he announced, “Mamie, look! I found another one! Je suis un beau gosse !” which made her giggle because essentially, as she explained later, what he was saying was, “I’m a stud!”

I learned some more “popular language” from Noa’s remarks during these games. Being so young, he didn’t understand what he was saying, but I knew some of it had a more mature meaning when Chantal or his father would correct him and ask with a shocked expression, “Where on earth did you learn that?” I’m finding that it wasn’t just my siblings and I that picked up the particular phrases from the TV or the street that confounded our parents: this method of language acquisition seems to be universal.

Another means of education in both the States and France is to visit animals at the zoo. This was one of my first “classrooms” where I learned about the various animals from around the world. In the same way, when I visited the botanical garden in Tours (which is much smaller than a zoo), I learned about the animals and plant life from the plaques throughout the garden and by asking questions. From there, I relearned the name of the paon (peacock) and the poule (chicken) and discovered the origins of the émeu (emu) and wallaby. It seemed a little bizarre at 21 to be figuring this out again. This sentiment applies to just about everything I’m learning in France: I have to learn like a child.

While I’m definitely more comfortable listening to and speaking French since my arrival, I have yet to perfect my interactions with the French. When I approach a native French-speaker and ask them about something basic to the French culture, at first I get a puzzled look (I’m not sure if it’s because my pronunciation isn’t perfect, or they are just surprised I don’t know the answer for myself), then once I clarify that I’m American and I study at the Institut de Touraine, I get one of two responses. The first is more positive and usually includes a story about how the person has visited America, loves American TV (the show “Friends” is really popular in France), or is interested in learning more English. The other is not quite as receptive. It entails either a political discussion asking where I stand with the current President (because in France, politics are always fair game), or being generally closed off because I’m not French. This happens much less frequently.

After asking around for some general stereotypes of Americans to see what may have provoked these more negative responses, I discovered Americans are frequently perceived as obnoxiously loud people who smile too much, are selfish (especially in wanting everyone else to speak English), and then political tensions get tossed on top of all of it just for fun. I’ll confess to talking loudly in public, being very smiley for no particular reason, and, when I first came to France, I would quickly switch to English in hopes that the person I was talking with spoke my maternal language. Since I’ve spent about 7 years now studying French and I’m still not completely confident in my speaking and listening abilities, I’ve learned it’s unrealistic to hope everyone else who isn’t native to an anglophone country is fluent in English. Learning another language is extremely difficult, which is something I had taken for granted before coming to France.

In other news, I’ve since passed the DELF B2 proficiency exam and received my level B2 diplome (certificate)! I still have a lot of work to do in French, so I’ll just keep learning like a kid and enjoying the few weeks I have left!

À bientôt ! // See you soon!

A Review of my second week in tours, france

« On est champion ! » // “We are the champions!” –  the French people of Tours // Freddy Mercury

Another very warm week has come and gone in France and what have I learned?

• Abbreviations and fillers : So, uhh, English isn’t the only language with words that don’t mean anything and shortcuts, ya’ know. For example, j’suis (meaning “I’m,” pronounced shwee), j’sais pas (meaning “I dunno,” pronounced shay pah), ben… (meaning “well…,” pronounced bah) typically said at the beginning of a statement to get your words rolling and you can throw a quoi (meaning “what,” pronounced kwah) at the end of a sentence for emphasis, although it has literally no significance to the context… While all these all may be commonly spoken, grammatically they are most definitely incorrect and I won’t put them in a French paper at the risk of a bad grade. However, once you know the basics of the language and enough vocabulary to stay afloat in an inundation of French words and cultural references, it’s the ability to add these into a conversation that makes it seem like you really know what you’re talking about. I’ve been trying out this nuanced communication method at the vending machines with my morning coffee: “Bof ! J’suis trop fatiguée, moi !” ( meaning “I’m so tired”, pronounced bowf shwee troh faahteegay mwah). If my accent didn’t give me away and maybe I wore stripes and a beret and carried a baguette*, I’d like to think people would believe I was French.

*side note: French people don’t actually wear stripes or berets on a daily basis, but I have seen more than a few carrying baguettes through the streets*

• Anglicisms : OK, c’est super cool, ça ! The French and English have a history in trading with each other, especially with regard to language. From what I’ve been hearing in conversations, it’s fairly commonplace to have at least 5 English words every 30 seconds (this is a rough estimation, I haven’t recorded any actual data). While the intent is to complement the language with words that don’t quite translate into French and adopting them with the lovely French accent, this “slang” that the younger generations like to use is not always appreciated by their elders. I’ve talked to professors and other adults who are completely opposed to these shortcuts which are, in their opinions, invading the French language. I’ve even seen advertisements that promote the protection of the French language as one of the purest symbols of the French culture. From this point of view, every English phrase absorbed by the French culture should be immediately replaced by a French equivalent. Others like my host mom, Chantal, really don’t mind these anglicisms. For her, it’s a question of having known a good amount of English already and the frequent usage is really more in the language of “les jeunes” (young people). So it’s just as critical for her in the context of intergenerational communication with her son or her neighbors, for instance. However, at the end of our discussion on this topic she finished by saying, “really though, some words you just don’t need English for.” This was, of course, stated in French. The bottomline is anglicisms aren’t always appreciated, but they are used in just about every conversation.

 

• Formal letters and basic anatomy, a lesson on cultural context : As I’m approaching the date of my DELF B2 proficiency exam, I’ve been spending a significant amount of time learning the organization of several types of common French documents like formal letters, the essay, commentaries, blog posts, and letters to the editor. These common, written means of communication, which I normally don’t think twice about, have been my main focus. At first I thought, sure, I shouldn’t have any trouble writing a letter to a mayor or director of a company and maintaining an opinion, but as I went through the review, I realized that the French culture had its own particular way of presenting this kind of information. The level of formality is especially accentuated by the use of vous, the formal “you”, which is at the base of such correspondences. Practicing this skill of writing a letter in and of itself isn’t terribly difficult, but it took some work for my mind to readjust and accept this different representation of something that was familiar to me in the context of my own culture. Similarly with learning basic anatomy and the run-down of a general medical consultation in French, I feel as if I’m starting again at square one. In this case, the medical field in French is shaped not only by a different vocabulary, but also a different healthcare system than what I’m accustomed to. While I’m essentially just learning a new vocabulary that allows me to communicate via a written statement or in a medical setting, the lessons go beyond that. If I truly want to understand the words I’m saying, I have to understand the culture that they stemmed from and then I can apply them in a letter about the importance of les pauses (breaktime) in France or in an exchange with a patient to determine the cause of her mal au foie (liver pain).

• The food is phenomenal and Tours is a walking city : Good thing, too. I think I’ve eaten my weight in baguettes and cheese sinceI’ve arrived. Well, maybe not that much, but I’ve definitely been appreciating la nourriture française. Fun fact: French gastronomy is recognized as a symbol of cultural heritage in France and I can attest to that. While I love a good meal loaded with carbs and butter, getting some exercise is not a bad idea. Moderation and balance are key! Given that I am struggling to figure out the summer hours of the public transportation schedule, I take at least two 30 minute walks everyday. The apartment I’m in is located in the part of the city closer to the Cher river on the south side of town while the institute where I take classes is in the center of Tours and nearer to the Loire river. It’s a scenic walk especially if walk through the park (Jardin des Prébendes d’Oé), so I don’t mind getting my steps in this way. Apparently, Tours has become more and more of a town focused on non-car transportation. According to the locals, the city removed the parking spaces in the middle of town a few years ago to install a tramway. Also, I’ve seen lots of purple rental bikes called “indigo weels” which are reminiscent of the many “lime bikes” I’ve seen around South Bend. Anyways,

  

  there are a good number of individuals who don’t depend on gasoline to get to their destinations whether that’s school, work, or a marketplace where shoppers usually tote a wheeled grocery caddy behind themselves to make hauling groceries easier. Coming full circle back to the food, I’ve noticed that the French will go to grocery stores and markets more frequently than us Americans. They tend to purchase less given that they take multiple trips throughout the week whereas we, or at least my family and I, purchase groceries like we are preparing for Armageddon. Maybe it’s because the stores are relatively closer to people’s homes in the more densely packed French cities making it more convenient to get to a grocery store, or maybe more of a priority is given to fresh food preparation? Whatever the cause is, this is a cultural difference I’m beginning to notice.

• Patriotism and football : This past week, especially the weekend, was filled with bleu, blanc et rouge (blue, white and red… it feels strange reversing the red and the blue) for the colors of France. It really has been an extended celebration of this country starting with the first stages of the Tour de France, continuing on with Bastille Day (la Fête Nationale), and wrapping up with the final game of the Soccer World Cup where France beat Croatia 4-2. The Tour de France is an iconic race between cyclists from around the world to bike about 3,500 km/2,200 mi around the country it’s named for. This began Saturday, July 7th, and exactly one week later, July 14th, France celebrated its unification around the revolution during 1790. I had the chance to see the fireworks which were displayed over the Loire river near one of the favorite, local hangouts, the Guinguette. My friends and I stayed on the upper part of the pathway along the river’s edge for a better view above the trees and because there were so many people in the lower part that you couldn’t see the ground! But if I thought there were a lot of people for le 14 Juillet, there were even more for the final game of the World Cup on Sunday. I went to another preferred meet-up spot of the Tourangeaux (people of

  

  Tours), Place Plumereau, where the streets were filled with spectators draped in flags and covered in face paint hoping to catch a glimpse of the game on one of the TVs of the many cafés on what was arguably the hottest day of the summer. When France scored a goal, the crowds erupted with cheering, jumping, and singing of the national anthem, the Marseillaise. When France won, this energy was amplified one hundred times. The songs and general sense of fraternity went on for hours; drivers honked there horns and shouts of “on est champion” rang out till the early hours of the morning. Apparently, this victory is supposed to raise the presidential approval rating of President Macron by at least 8% and one of the most remarkable statements I heard after the game was that no other event has had the same efficiency in bringing the French together on the streets since the end of World War II. There’s nothing like a good soccer game to unite an entire country.

Well, that’s all for now! I’ll keep working on my listening comprehension, speaking and writing abilities to get to the goals I’ve set for myself, but I was so glad I got to be present for such a culturally significant week in France.

À plus tard ! // See you later!

 

This seems like a fitting title, considering France will be playing in the final against Croatia this Sunday for the first time since 1998. But also in what feels like a bittersweet moment, this week marked the end of my time in Tours and in France. Although I feel as though I have been living in France for about 3 months, this week has quickly passed. Tuesday was quite exciting, as my host family and I decided to eat dinner an hour earlier just so we would be afforded the opportunity to fully invest ourselves into what was actually quite a boring match. Although a slightly undewhelming game, my host father’s commentary throughout the spectacle made up for my unsatisfied angst. After the match, however, the celebrations began. My house was situated just on Rue Nationale, providing me with a great view of the sunset each night, the ferris wheel, the tram, and the many passerbys who roam the streets throughout the day. Just outside the window, I heard people chanting “Umtiti”, the defender who scored the goal for France. Others chanted “Allez, allez, allez finale” as drivers honked their horns and pedestrians draped the flag upon their shoulders. I decided I would go to the guinguette, and even as I walked towards the river, it proved difficult to cross the street as traffic ensued and people filled the streets.

Wednesday, I visited Amboise, just about 30 minutes away from Tours. It was the first castle I had taken the time to visit, after receiving many recommendations. It was interesting to see something such as that–that was a combination of both Gothic and Renaissance architecture. But what surprised me most, after visiting Amboise and then Clos Luce (where Leonardo da Vinci stayed whilst in France), was that I was able to understand a significant portion of what was being said by our tour guide and the teacher who accompanied us. Being forced to speak the language for 5 hours straight while also having to interpret and translate everything from French to English can be a tiring feat, but as I have made minor improvements, I recognize that translating is now becoming a passive process.

Yet, I still have many days where I am able to speak French well and many others where my French seems just as bad as when I first arrived. I have become cognizant of when my French seems to suffer the most and when it seems to thrive. Typically when I find myself in difficult situations, French isn’t as difficult because I see it as a necessity. Yet, when I find myself in an uncomfortable situation, amongst a new group of people in a new setting, I seem to stumble upon my words, unable to put together a sentence with a subject, verb, and object. Wednesday’s class seemed to be a good example of that. While I do not typically have trouble speaking or interpreting, we were required to take an oral exam. I felt slightly unprepared, considering I did not know what to expect, but I assumed it would be fairly easy for me to listen to some audio recording and identify the main idea. Yet, as my teacher continued to replay excerpts and exercises for us to listen to, I failed to comprehend every single one. Instead, I was only successful with a particular portion of the exam. It is in moments like these that I become a little insecure about how much I truly understand French. With my host family and those living with me, I have explained to them that I am not entirely sure if I actually know French or I am just capable of understanding particular words and piecing together a conversation because I am able to utilize context clues. I assume that this is what we do in English when first acquiring the language, but I can truthfully say that during the past year or so that I have taken French, this is the first time I have become attentive to how it is that I am learning. It’s a very intuitive and personal experience–to take note of how one has learned and continues to learn when mastering another language. On occasion, I have moments where I am presented with new words, and typically just before I am getting ready to look them up, I quickly realize I am able to understand its meaning without the use of a dictionary.

Today was my last day in Tours. Before leaving, I had an exam that covered two particular areas, “comprehension ecrite“, and “production ecrite“. I found the exam to be quite easy, and after receiving my marks, I was pleased to see that I had improved in the areas of written comprehension and production, as well as French and oral production. While parting ways with my professor, she mentioned that I should continue to study French, making note of the fact that I had developed quite a vast vocabulary and developed better speaking skills.

I don’t find goodbyes difficult, but they are always a bit awkward. I had spent the past 7 weeks saying goodbye to all the people I had come to know, but today, it was my turn. As I hugged the people I met throughout my time in various courses, one girl said to me, “you always meet twice in life”. I now know that it is German saying, but I find truth in that, regardless. I have met many people from other states who I have run into at airports, so I am hopeful that we may all meet again.

I am now writing this from Paris, with the intentions of returning back to the United States tomorrow. I am more than thankful for my time here in France. I would never consider myself well-traveled as I have only been outside of the US twice, and now thrice, but it has been an invaluable experience that has left me feeling empowered.

A review of my first week in Tours, France

“How can you govern a country which has 246 varieties of cheese?” Charles de Gaulle

After a long flight from Chicago to Paris and a few more hours on the train from the airport, I found myself in the picturesque center of Tours (pronounced without the “s”). Severely exhausted yet eager to begin this adventure in France, I stepped off the train with heavy eyelids and heavy bags and made my way down the platform to meet my “host mom”, Chantal. She’s a tall, brunette woman with full curls and a warm smile who has invited me to live with her, her dog Luna, and her cat Mimi while I attend courses at the Institut de Touraine. The afternoon that followed gave an overview of the culture I would be immersed in over the next six weeks.

In a car just big enough for the both of us and my bags, we passed by the elaborate architecture of the town hall (l’hôtel de ville) and a pedestrian pathway protected from the sun by a canopy of trees. I’d noticed the summer heat as soon as I’d stepped off the plane, but now, being directly in the sun without the luxurious surplus of AC I knew in the states, the temperature really made itself known. It was hot (il faisait chaud). This was the first part of life in France I had to acclimate myself to. The French are used to the heatwave that passes through every summer and indoor cooling systems aren’t commonplace. An oscillating fan and an open window give some relief when indoors, but patience is the only way to get through the days of 90+ degrees Farenheit.

Nonetheless, the heat doesn’t seem to be an obstacle for the people of Tours. Pedestrians fill the streets and plazas to observe one of the most important events in France: the world cup (la coupe du monde). Sure, there’s also the Tour de France that’s getting started, but le foot takes precedence at this moment. When I arrived in Tours, Les Bleus had just won a match and the locals were decked out in their finest French flag capes accompanied by blue, white and red face paint. They then packed into cars and sounded their horns to announce the victory. This is celebratory sound-off is also common after marriages, according to Chantal… minus the sports paraphernalia.

To get to the point, the busy town of Tours has plenty of opportunities to engage in the French culture. I just have to step out of the apartment building and, voilà,  there’s an open-air market where I can discuss with vendors and learn about the local produce (I’m mostly interested in the cheese, to be honest), I can attend mass at one of the many ancient churches nearby and hear

it all in French, or I can stroll over to one of the local parks and read a plaque detailing the several century history of the immense coniferous trees which are dispersed throughout the area.  I don’t have to venture that far for a good lesson in French either. I’ve found that I’ve made the most progress in speaking and understanding French right at the dinner table.

Chantal and I usually spend about an hour and a half to two hours eating dinner, which is typical in a French home. Needless to say, we end up talking quite a bit. She’s hosted students for about 20 years, so she recounts some of her favorite stories of time passed with them and shares the lessons they learned while adjusting to the culture. These discussions have helped me to get immersed in the language outside of class and engage in relevant topics in France like politics, money and religion. I was a bit nervous to get into these faux pas subjects, but I was encouraged when I found myself able to express my opinions in another language. Apart from these denser topics, we’ll talk about how the day went, the recipe for the dinner we’re about the enjoy (my host mom is an excellent cook, by the way), or something

that Luna did that made Chantal laugh. My abilities in French are sufficient to get me through dinner without too much confusion, but I still have a lot to work on. I struggle with the gender of the words, my grammar needs some refreshing, and I can’t always compose a thought in French as quickly as the conversation moves. I’m planning on keeping a French journal, listening more frequently to radio stations like RFI or FranceInter, and conversing more with native French-speakers to help both my production and comprehension of French.

An exciting day turned into an exciting week and I’m off to what I believe is a good start. I’ll be keeping myself busy with the classwork and preparing for the DELF B2 proficiency exam while I attempt to keep up with the other language supplements, but I’ll still make time to appreciate what the French culture has to offer. I’m looking forward to being here for the 14th of July, the national holiday of France, and I hear the fireworks display in Tours is especially impressive.

Until the next time (À la prochaine)!

It is now the end of week 6 here in Tours–of what felt like the quickest week since my time here in France. The start of the week was met by many new students at the Institute, primarily those from America, but also those from places such as Spain, Russia, Venezuela, and elsewhere. I was placed into a new class, and it was a little interesting yet taxing to go through the process of re-acquainting myself with others and doing a bit more than the typical Notre Dame introduction. I have made mention of my school name and what I study, along with where I live, but the discussion of heritage has actually been quite prevalent since my time here in France. Americans often marvel at the accents of others, and I usually hate the fact that my French accent does not sound as natural as I would like, but I find that others have come to enjoy the sound of the “American” accent or what one man called my American twang.

Class discussion this week focused on grammar, as well as NGOs within France and elsewhere in the world. Unlike last week, it is back to normal–where we work within groups to explain the use of the subjunctive and conditional tenses. We even discussed some of the French slang spoken by the younger population. With my teacher being an older man, he made the joke that if we wanted to pick up on any of the slang, we would have to visit the guinguette where younger French locals spend their time. He taught us some phrases such as “Je kiffe grave”, which is the equivalent of “J’aime beaucoup”. He also taught us something that I have picked up on since being here in France. When speaking French, the French will take many short cuts. Rather than creating a sentence with the subject, verb, and object, when speaking, they will combine both the subject and the verb to say something like “J’suis Francais” or “T’es quoi?” rather than “Je suis Francais” or “Tu es quoi?”. I have even found a way to truly practice my French without simple rote learning. I have now gotten into the habit of journaling in French. While I am not entirely sure if all the grammar is correct, it has forced me to enhance my French vocabulary, rather than using the same adverbs and adjectives. Since doing this, engaging in class discussion, and speaking with both my host family and locals outside of class, I have actually seen a marked improvement in my oral comprehension and my reading and writing skills. At dinners with my family, I am now able to understand about 85% of what is said, while the other 15% is spent shifting my gaze between my house mates to see if any of them understood what was said. And even before, as we would eat dinner and watch the World Cup, it would be as though I was only passively listening to the French commentary. I would recognize words such as “tourner” or “catastrophe!”,  essentially all of the French words that sounded the exact same in English, but I have now been able to identify particular phrases and other key words about players and their teams.

Shifting towards the sports, (something I think it actually quite critical to French culture like in any other), this week for the World Cup felt quite slow, as it is now almost over. What used to be a daily spectacle now occurs every few days. Japan lost against Belgium and Colombia lost against England, but today is the day that my host parents keep referring to as stressful, although I think it will pass rather quickly. Today, France plays against Uruguay, and although stressful, these days seem to be the funnest as streets near Place Plum become crowded with a montage of red, white, and blue. Many French people will cover their faces with tiny French flags and sit in groups in front of TVs preparing for the match to commence. But aside from just this, the Tour de France is also starting this weekend. My host father tells me this is actually one of his favorite times of the year, given that it is televised on TV from an aerial perspective, giving people the ability to see the eclectic terrain in France near the Alps. But aside from these athletic events, there is a lot to be happy about. Just two days ago, some students and I from school celebrated the 4th of July. Although a very small celebration with just a few sparklers, a group of French people approached us asking if it was someone’s birthday, but after mentioning that it was the “Fete National” for the US, many of them joined in the celebration, making note of the fact that they were actually quite familiar with the 4th of July.

Yet, the festivities did not end there. One of my housemates from the US was actually preparing for her departure and with my birthday approaching, my host parents decided to have a small celebration–a farewell and a birthday party all in one. Often, dinners are quite extravagant here, or at least more formal than anything I would typically prepare at home. Yesterday’s dinner, however, was slightly different. The table was adorned with some of the most beautiful plates I had ever seen, and beside our cutlery, were small containers of bubbles. After going through the first two courses–poached eggs and then a Moroccan dish called tajine (accompanied by couscous), my host family brought out the typical cheese platter. The cheese course is usually followed by dessert, but this dessert was beyond my expectations. I was presented with a giant cake and gifts, but even without the additional surprises, our discussions over things such as the importance of the ecosystem (and the ways in which France attempts to preserve it), the predominant religions existing in France and other countries, or even the ways in which the cultures of others (Africans, Asians, and other Europeans) have been taken and adapted by France are enough to sustain me.

That night we decided it was necessary to take a “family” photo. Thus far, this is probably one of the most multicultural families I have ever been a part of–with a girl from Spain (and previously, a girl from Colombia), a girl from Taiwan, and another from America. With the night coming to a close, I decided to visit the cathedral in Tours to view the frequently talked about light show–documenting something so modern on a very ancient building.

In turn, I’d say the past three days were some of my best days since being here, but for now, au revoir!

 

After 5 weeks here in France, it almost feels as if I have been here for months. I have gotten used to a lot of the same things–such as going through Les Halles each Sunday after my runs and walking through particular streets when I decide to go for walks.  This week at the Institute was a bit different, as most people have left, with the intentions of returning next week. Friends from my class last session have gone to their respective countries–Iran, South Korea, Taiwan, and India, but with others departing and new students arriving, I have had the pleasure of fortifying new friendships once again.

This week’s classes were dedicated to oral comprehension. Often, we had class discussions about a particular topic such as the use of phones while driving. but we also had an activity where we were forced to go on a scavenger hunt inside a store to answer questions such as, “what are some foods that are exclusively French or exclusively found in Tours?”. Most people thought it was quite weird that we were approaching them with such specific questions, but that activity  actually proved to be one of my favorites.

During the weekend, unlike most of my friends, I did not go to Paris, London, or Amsterdam, but I was actually fortunate to experience something that I did not initially anticipate. Saturday, after a nice stroll through Tours and time spent at a local bagel restaurant for a game-watch between France and Argentina, I had dinner with my host family and decided to take one last walk past the river and through Place Plum alone. My stroll actually led me to a group of men playing soccer and a group of children running alongside them playing a game of their own. After acknowledging what these children were running from, I noticed there was a celebration taking place inside a building. It became the perfect opportunity to use my French, and although this is something I would have never done had I been in the US, I decided to walk up to one of the people standing outside the building. Out of curiosity, I simply wanted to know what was being celebrated, as I heard a lot of the music and quickly recognized that those people were of African descent. He then invited inside, which would typically seem very weird and slightly unsafe, but my intuition did not steer me wrong that night.

The first person I met was a Senegalese woman who had been studying in Toulouse–a city in southern France, but we instantly became friends. She was a little taken aback by the fact that I didn’t actually know anyone at what I later learned was a wedding reception, but after informing the rest of her family members, they were delighted to have me. They were excited to come across someone who spoke English, but after learning I was a student who had the intentions of learning French, they made the decision to solely speak to me in French. Occasionally, I would ask them to slow down or revert to English and sometimes my previously learned Spanish, but my time with them was rather heartwarming–especially when I met a woman from Sierra Leone who was happy to find another person with whom she could speak English rather than just French. They asked about my time here in France and my perspective on Tours, and I then inquired the same. I later found that most of them did not even live in Tours, but in neighboring cities, cities in Belgium, or Paris. We talked about French cuisine and the more obvious cultural differences between the French, Americans, and Africans. When leaving, I talked to the woman I first met, expressing my appreciation for the way in which they welcomed me. She laughed and told me that this was quite common for them–that they would have easily treated anyone else in the same. This isn’t the first time I have really had an interaction like this, and perhaps it is based on context, but being abroad, I see that life here in some ways is not entirely different, but the values upheld are.

After returning home, I was still surprised that I had managed to truly go outside of my comfort zone–to speak French (which is actually a lot harder for me when I come across people I have never met) and to walk into a party alone in an entirely different country. Nonetheless, it was more of a growing experience for me than anything else.