A bientôt

My contract in Saint-Quentin finished at the end of April, and after a trip to Bordeaux, family vacation in England and Italy, and two quick final days in Saint-Quentin, I returned to the United States on May 7th. I’ve been back for two weeks now, trying to readjust to American life while processing everything I experienced this past year.

Being back is surreal. Some parts of coming home are great, like spending time with my family and reconnecting with friends. I’ve also enjoyed simple things, like driving around town and cuddling with my dogs, and of course unlimited refills of big mugs of coffee.

It’s been difficult, too. I had a great experience living in Saint-Quentin, and I could have happily remained there for longer than my allotted seven months.  I don’t want to sugarcoat the experience; the first two months in France were especially challenging. But once I had established a routine, built ties with people, and gained a better understanding of the culture in Picardie, my life abroad became really good.

I learned a lot this year. Of course I learned a LOT of French, and I also learned how to do adult-y things—buy groceries and cook food, open a bank account and organize travel plans, not to mention how to successfully navigate my first real, non-internship job after college. The fact that I managed most of these feats in French added to the sense of self-reliance and agency that I acquired over the year.

I also learned, and was shocked to discover, that I could be happy living in a small town with only six bus lines and almost everything I needed less than a half-hour walk away. I previously thought I would need to live in close proximity to a big city—DC or Boston or Chicago. In Saint-Quentin I learned the joy of walking everywhere, of recognizing the same people at my neighborhood bakery, of a weekday “rush hour” that lasted 20 minutes and involved fewer cars than you’d see in Vienna on a Sunday.

Why I enjoyed life in France came from a deeper place than the excitement of living abroad and the novelty of traveling around Europe. I grew up taking the metro to high school, fighting DC traffic while commuting to jobs and internships, playing my expected part in the whirlwind and stress of an American city. In Saint-Quentin, the pace slowed down.  There were exceptions—Paris is quite lively and busy, and I admit that there’s something to be said for the culture and diversity a large city offers (there were certainly days in Saint-Quentin where I didn’t have quite enough to do). But I grew to love the calmer vibe of Picardie. Going home for lunch in the middle of the day, which at first was super bizarre, became a nice respite and time to recharge. Meeting friends for a drink in the afternoon and chatting for hours became normal instead of a rare treat. It’s not that I dislike my life in the US—it’s just that in Saint-Quentin, I could slow down and actually appreciate and reflect on things.

I’ve experienced several periods of big adjustment in the last few years: adjusting to two colleges, to Nantes for study abroad and coming home afterwards, to life after college when I graduated last year and to Saint-Quentin when I arrived in October.  Adjusting now has been different from all those other times. It comes down to something I realized in France in the days leading up to my departure. For the first time in my life, I felt at home in a place that wasn’t where I grew up. For all the highs and lows, through the lost-in-translation moments and French language victories, difficulties I faced and friends I met, I managed to build a community and a place for myself in Saint-Quentin.

I fell in love with the pace of life in a small French town, while becoming addicted to the constant process of cultural discovery experienced by anyone living in their second language.  I made connections, with people I tutored, with students, with fellow assistants and fellow teachers. I was full of nostalgia while touring the centre-ville for a final time, walking past my favorite shops and through my favorite park. The hardest part was saying goodbye to all the people I met and became close with during the past seven months. I couldn’t bring myself to say au revoir; to do so meant acknowledging both that I was leaving their company and that I was saying farewell to a unique and transformative experience.  So instead I simply expressed that I’d see them soon, and that remains my intention. To friends abroad, to Saint-Quentin, to France: à bientôt.