Domenica Berman is a Her Campus Cal Poly contibuting writer studying abroad in France.
A little over a week ago, I was stepping off a plane after 24 hours of traveling. Exhausted, grimy and nervous, I greeted my host mom at the airport of the small town in Southern France where I will spend the semester. I quickly discovered she was serious when she said she really didn’t speak much English, which has turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Her husband doesn’t speak much English, either, and her mom, at 94 years old, speaks absolutely none, but that doesn’t really matter because she can’t hear a word I say anyway. The first night I felt like my mind was in overdrive trying to process what they were saying and then trying to find the appropriate response. But hey, in my state of jet lag, it probably would have been difficult communicating with a family I’d never met, even if they were speaking in English.
The next morning, my host mom drove me to the university and we started the morning with a lovely placement exam. It included writing an essay in French and interviewing with a French professor. Needless to say, it was a relief to get to know all the other (mainly English-speaking) peers. The way we frenziedly introduced ourselves and started spilling stories about our home towns, previous travels and experience in Pau yet far, it must have seemed like we had all been quarantined for years.
That night, and every night since then, got easier and more comfortable with my host family; though the English-French dictionary is still always within arms’ reach of the dinner table. Since starting my intensive language courses, my friends and I have noticed that our brains are always switching between English and French. Sometimes I’m talking to someone in English and the word I want to use pops up in French and vice versa. The way I phrase things is a little awkward, because it’s this weird mix of thinking about both languages. Even writing this is a struggle, because I’ve been taking notes mostly in French.
As I learn about my host family and they learn about my family, I feel more and more at home and like my two worlds are growing closer. My birthday was last Sunday, and before coming here, I was bummed that I wouldn’t be able to celebrate with my friends and family. One day last week, I casually mentioned it to my host mom. I told her she didn’t need to do anything special, but she made a beautiful lunch complete with foie gras and her specialty cake (with 20 candles and a sparkler). The group of friends that I had met less than a week before also insisted that we make dinner together and celebrate together. The night of my birthday, I talked to my parents on Skype who were celebrating in their time zone in California. It was a little bittersweet, but it was one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had even though I was with people I’d barely met. I think it was an indicator of how the rest of the semester will progress.