My constant complaining about this beautiful country has become a bit of a joke amongst my friends here. I have never felt more American as I have living in a foreign culture.
And Mondays. And for a two hour lunch break. And people not really caring what the customer thinks anyways. And pharmacies only selling over-priced medicine, and not hair stuff and shampoo and snacks like CVS. And all business being conducted via mail. Like through the actual post office. Another thing I will never understand about France: why an entire family would walk around town with matching puffy jackets. No matter how annoyed I get by the way things work in France, I still get it: I know how to live here.
I wish I could be like one of those first world faux-gypsy princesses that gallivants all over the world, making a home anywhere she lands, but I really love the US, and I love having roots there, and that will always be where I want to be for good.
And so I can make a home in France, and feel completely at home here, and I go to different countries and completely throw myself into it despite what I said earlier about refusing to conform—I can do that in other countries, just not in France but at the end of the day, I am an American girl, and not the expat kind. Because right now I would describe myself as moderately fluent, which is something that happened completely on accident. And then I only became a French major because I wanted to study abroad in Grenoble since I already spoke French and you had to take five classes to qualify for the program and then you took five classes when you were there and ten classes at my college was a major and then BOOM, I was a French major.
I was sure that I could communicate in French, but I felt like I had such blocks in the language that no one would ever know the true me, and I would only be able to have superficial friendships.
