I have been an avid writer for most of my life, and although I can sometimes get a good story out, I always have trouble summing up that story into a few important words. I've written hundreds upon hundreds of pages of fiction, but I can never manage to scrape up a title that I find suiting.
Well today, that is exactly how I feel again. I can't possibly find words to sum up the torrent of emotions and thoughts which are going to be expressed below, so I think it's best that I leave this story without a name. Words simply aren't adequate, but I'm going to try my best.
So once upon a time, there was this guy who decided that he wanted to live in France for a semester. Prior to making this decision, he had practiced French for nearly 6 years, and felt that he had a solid enough foundation. With that in mind, he decided that he was going to do whatever it took to put him in a different country. And that he did.
The road was rough at first, especially after finding that his options were becoming fewer by the day. He wanted to study at Compiegne. Well, no, that wasn't exactly possibly. He didn't have the paperwork in time. He wanted to study in Rennes. Well, no, that wasn't exactly possible. He didn't have the paperwork in time. Then, he decided to switch his plans, and study with an exchange group called Academic Programs International (API) in Caen. Well, no, that wasn't exactly possible. not enough people had signed up for the program.
And that's how he ended up going to Grenoble.
Back then, he wouldn't have considered himself one for the mountains. After all, it's not like he played any winter sports. in fact, this guy was such a klutz that as soon as you put anything between him and the ground, he would fall. But, he needed to get to France, and he was becoming desperate. So, letting the fates take control, he absentmindedly signed his life away to spending a semester in Grenoble, France.
Getting his visa proved to be difficult, but once he finally had the paper in his hands, he felt somewhat at ease, although slightly anxious. It was set in stone at that very moment: he would be spending his life across the ocean, far, far away from home, in a world which he knew very little of.
Before his departure, he spoke to a woman with whom he worked. Her words lingered in his head immediately after she had said them.
Enjoy every minute, because one moment you'll blink, and you'll be home.
These words stuck with him, although he didn't fully understand their meaning. He packed, and bid his friends and family farewell.
On September 2nd, he left the United States.
Upon his arrival, he was completely overwhelmed by everything around him. He was nervous, having not heard a word of English since he got off of the plane. Nervously, he waited for his baggage. By some streak of luck, after immediately retrieving his bags, he ran into a man conveniently traveling with API too.
They sat down in a cafe, and were both approached by a French woman, seemingly walking at a tremendous speed. She asked him a question, but he really didn't understand much of it, except the fact that she had asked him his name. Then, with a kiss on both cheeks, his semester had begun.
The first month of the program was rough, and at times, this guy thought he couldn't handle it. During the first weekend, he was surrounded by unfamiliar faces, and felt foolish each time he had to ask someone to repeat themselves, sometimes two or three times, after they asked him a question. After that first Sunday dinner, he sat down on his bed in his unfamiliar new bedroom and thought to himself:
How am I going to survive here?
But then, by the time one and a half months had passed, he noticed something changing. He wasn't fully aware of it, but he noticed that things were starting to become just a little bit easier in ways that he couldn't describe. He wasn't thinking about the language he was surrounded by, he was reacting in it. Sure, he still asked people to repeat themselves, but things became easier.
And finally, he met some friends. He had gone to the FEU (Foyer Evangelique Universitaire) quite a few times before, but each time he felt somewhat lost, not really being able to fully follow conversation. Every Sunday he ate crepes, but for a while, that's all he felt like he was doing. But then, he actually started talking to the people there. Sure, they laughed at him at first, but he got used to it.
Then, he ran to the Bastille with a group of guys he had met. The first time he ran with them, he ran up to the summit of the mountain. The sun had set, and night had fallen over the city of Grenoble. The lights, the mountains...everything had seemed perfect. The mountains he had not been so keen of prior to his departure he was then seeing in a completely different light.
And finally, another two months passed. December arrived, and for the first time, he felt a profound change; a change that he could feel, and a change that everyone else around him commented on, without even realizing it. Prior to, people had always told him, in French, that "he managed himself well." Over the course of three months, this phrase slowly transformed into "you speak French really well." Without hesitation, he could finally speak his mind, and in fact, had even managed to transcribe his English sarcasm into French.
But along with the speaking came a different level of comprehension. As he spoke with his friends, he noticed more and more of the context filling in. There were still small gaps in sentences that he didn't understand, but 85% of the time, he globally understood everything that was said. And then, just as he was overwhelmed with this sense of accomplishment...
Some form of bittersweetness set in.
Three months beforehand, he had been upset to leave his family, but excited to experience a new culture. But after three months had passed, he had become excited to see his family, but upset to leave his new one. He had made friends from all over the world... French, German, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, English, Australian, Canadian, and even other Americans... He came to realize that all of these people who had grown to care for, that had become a different form of family to him, were going to be yet again far, far away.
But at the same time, he realized that he was excited to see his family and friends at home, who he hasn't had the pleasure of seeing for quite some time. The emotional melange was tearing at him in a way like nothing else had. It was as if he had two conflicting personalities trapped inside the same shell.
And now, this man only has 24 hours left in Grenoble. He has fallen in love with the city, its people, the mountains...And now, he can't quite believe that he's leaving.
And that wise woman's words still linger in his head.
Enjoy every minute, because one moment you'll blink, and you'll be home.
Well, I guess I blinked. And now it's time to go home.
