Halfway

On June 8^th, in four months and one week, I will meet my parents and my brother at the Nantes train station – the same one I've passed through every time I travel elsewhere in Europe. One week later, we'll pack up my things and head over to Germany to visit some very good family friends of ours. A week later, we'll head down south again, to the Alps, possibly Venice, possibly the Mediterranean, and who knows what else. On June 27^th, my parents will fly home in a normal fashion, while I am required to pass through Paris, Reykjavik, and Boston on Icelandair before proceeding on to San Francisco due to travel agent shenanigans. From there on out, my plans are fuzzy, but my host sister is coming to visit me for half of July and all of August, and I'd really like to take a roadtrip across the States to college.

The halfway point was January 22^nd. I feel like I should have passed the halfway point a long time ago, like I should be almost done. It might well end up feeling like that – I rather hope these next four months and one week pass much more quickly than the first half did. After all, I have never lived a longer week than the first week I was here, and never a longer month than the first month. It took until November for time to speed back up to its normal steady tumble.

A lot of the other exchange students I met have gone home. In a way, I envy them, because I know that I was happier at home and that I've already learned most of what I have to learn in France. My language acquisition is plateauing even though it never really stops. I've seen the differences and similarities between the French and Americans, and I prefer Americans. I've learned what it's like to be a foreigner, and although that's valuable information, I prefer being a native. But at the same time, I can't really imagine going home right now. Going back to my high school after living abroad would be weird, like aging backwards. Fortunately I'm a senior this year (well, technically I'm in my second year of being a junior, and I'll skip being a senior) and won't have to go back to my high school – even though, for the most part, I liked it at Homestead. Anyway, it wouldn't feel very complete, to go home and take back up the threads of my life like I hadn't just dropped them and ran. And 4 months left is practically nothing, especially with a week in England, a week of skiing, and 3 other weeks of vacation to look forward to.

And with all those exchange students who left after semester 1, there's a whole new crop for semester 2. I'll never meet them in person, but I read their blogs. I was discussing with Sarah, my American friend, how we can't believe the exchange students who write all about “I love my new school! It's so exciting and interesting and I have so many new friends who are awesome lalala! And my host family is adorable and I have kittens and I never want to go home France is so much better than the US wooo!” And all the people who told us before we left “You're never going to want to come home! You'll have a blast.” No one ever talks about how hard it is. Which is one of the reasons I write honestly about my experiences, for future exchange students. Maybe Sarah and I are the anomalies. Maybe everyone else really does have 100% fun and happiness and never wants to go home. But I'm here to tell you that at least for me, some days are really great and others really suck and there'll be moments of homesickness and maybe if you're me even more moments of just plain not liking how things work in France. And at this halfway point, I'm not unhappy, and there are a lot of good things in this experience: my host family, whom I adore, Ultimate Frisbee, and the travelling I get to do from time to time. But I have to admit: I think a lot about the day when I'll get to go meet my family at the train station. When I go running, I think about the day when I'll take my dad with me to show him my favorite 7 kilometer circuit. (Not that I'd ever admit it to him. Hi Dad! I miss you. ;) ) I look forward to coming home, waking up in my own bed, hanging out in Serra Park with my friends, and especially making my own food for breakfast and lunch. (I used to make curry at least once a week, but in France spicy food doesn't exist.) Study abroad is a good thing to do. I recommend it. But it's good to be halfway. Halfway means I survived 5 months already; I can survive the last 4 as well.

I thought of a blog idea that will hopefully be entertaining: Send me stereotypes about the French or about France, and I will bunk or debunk them!

Here are your French stereotypes of the day:

1) French people smell.

Status: FALSE

They shower just as often as we do, and are shocked and disgusted to learn that most Americans don't wear perfume. Perfume is an essential element of the French grooming regimen.

2) French women don't shave their legs.

Status: FALSE

Not only do they shave, but from a very young age, and often in high school they wax their entire bodies and pluck their eyebrows and other horribly painful-sounding procedures. Beauty is important in France, and we all know that “beauty is pain.”