At this time, three days from now, my plane will be landing in Seattle, and I’ll be home. In all honesty, it doesn’t even seem real yet. It’s hard to imagine not waking up in my cozy little bedroom, hearing my host mom and dad talking in the living room, and constantly being surrounded by French. It’s crazy to me how quickly a whole new way of life can become the norm, and I’d be lying if I were to say I wasn’t at least a little bit sad to leave it all behind.
The past three and a half months have been a whirlwind of classes, traveling, making new friends, discovering new places, and learning to love life in France. I’ve gotten used to making conversation in a different language, the French grading system, the different class structure, living with a family that isn’t my own and being in a different city. I’ve fallen in love with the ease of the tram system, the abundance of pedestrian only streets, coming home to a delicious home cooked dinner every night, getting outside of my comfort zone and living so close to other countries. Above all, though, what I’m going to miss most when I leave to go home is all of the amazing friends I’ve made here in such short time.
With all of this being said, though, there are things that I miss about being home, and I’m excited to make my return to Washington. I miss my friends and family, of course, and my two dogs waiting for me at home. I miss driving, being able to cook for myself, not struggling to make conversation, stores that are open late and on Sundays, and the familiarity and comfort of home. Oh, and I definitely won’t miss having to think “well, if it’s 20 euros, how much is that in dollars?” every time I go shopping. It’s funny the things you miss when you’re abroad, sometimes things you wouldn’t normally care about back home. About a month in I started craving peanut butter, even though it’s not something I usually eat back home. I guess knowing you can’t have it (without paying a ridiculous price at the American import store) makes you want it that much more.
Reverse culture shock is something that keeps coming up as the days here are coming to a close. It may be naive to say that I don’t think I’ll experience it all that much, but that is how I feel. Sure, it’ll be weird to hear and see English everywhere, see cars used much more and much less public transportation, and not being a short train ride or flight away from multiple other countries. It might take a little adjustment, but I have no doubt I’ll fall back into my old routine in no time at all. I think the biggest adjustment will be going back to classes, as the school system was probably the biggest difference between here and home. Classes not taught entirely in French? Well, I’m actually looking forward to it.
Thinking about all of the time I’ve spent here in France, there are many things I’ve experienced and learned here that I’ll keep with me for years to come. Starting with the obvious, my French language skills have greatly improved over the last few months, and that will be beneficial as I go back to my French classes at Western, and is a skill I’m happy to have in general. I’ve made amazing friends that I hope to keep in touch with for a long time, and hopefully be reunited with in the near future. I’ve learned a lot about traveling consciously, and how to avoid being the wrong kind of tourist. Hopefully I’ll have the opportunity to travel again in the future, and I’ll be able to use what I’ve learned from living in a foreign country. More than anything else, this experience has helped me become more globally aware, and has given me a first hand look at what others are experiencing all around the world. This is something I’ll keep with me for a long time, and is an awareness that’ll help me as I go back home.
Overall, I can’t necessarily say that I’m ready to leave the amazing city of Grenoble behind, but there’s no doubt that I’ll make my return here, or at least to France, sometime in the future. For now, I’m looking forward to reuniting with my family, friends, and dogs back home. Thank you for the memories, Grenoble. You’ll never be forgotten.
