Although I had lived in the Netherlands for the previous six months on a study abroad programme, this was different. I was going to this country where people only 34% of the population can speak English well, and I could speak French well enough to know the basic phrases. I was in a solid merde situation.
As soon as I got there I knew that my French would not cut it. I could ask for directions but was that really a question that would come in handy when trying to make friends?
Anyway everywhere around me was a mass of French conversation, not a word of which I could fucking understand. Do you see my frustration now?
A 20 year old, with a suitcase of stuff, a wage that only really covered the price of rent in Paris, and not a single friend in Paris. It was scary. Moving to a different country is always scary, but more so when it's fabulous Paris, a place I had only dreamt of but never thought I could move to.
With it's well dressed women, and even better dressed men. The place where I would be comparable to a ragamuffin.
(All the French be like what is she even doing here)
Even after three months the pangs of fear come and go about how I am not nearly as good at French as I aimed to be, or how I have nothing chic to wear. But like I said it comes and goes. Because I have made Paris my home for now which means less regular posts, and more regular shopping trips.
Any city can become your home if you spend enough time embracing it and finding all the little quirks.
More on my adventures coming soon.
