After my almond croissant and steamy black coffee this morning, I was on my way to meet up with an SYA (School Year Abroad) friend near Le Centre Pompidou.

We ate lunch nearby, then took the metro to La Bastille, which is frequented by a very artsy crowd and filled with hip cafés and vintage stores. Abby and I stopped at her favorite cafe filled with beau garcons and old posters of Paris, where we reminisced about our year in Rennes and chatted with the waiters.

Her school also offers Winterim, and she has chosen to focus on the differences between French and American youth for a podcast. She asked my opinion, and I said that teenagers in France are generally much more reserved, whereas American teens will happily share any detail with another adolescent.

hahaha

I tried to interview our friendly waitress, but she had no time for it. Determined to complete at least one interview, I randomly approached a lady in a grocery store with my set of questions. How do you say 'awkward' in French? Actually there is no word for it. There is 'genant' and 'enervant', meaning, 'a little annoying or uncomfortable', but the best way to express it is by saying, “Une ange passe” which means, 'An angel is passing'. There must have been a dozen angles flying above, but thankfully our conversation became more relaxed and she willingly posed for a picture. Our discussion was somewhat dull, however, and I have been pondering how to liven up these interviews. My hypothesis: It may be necessary to cultivate a conversation before explaining my project.

After this slightly disappointing exchange, I stepped onto the overcrowded metro and headed back to my apartment. After exiting the metro station, I passed the Notre Dame and was reminded of my Art History class last year. There are three main levels on the exterior of the cathedral, each divided into three parts, alluding to the Trinity. The large space between the two towers was designed as a passage for the Holy Spirit. Its illuminated outer walls and its position next to the Seine make the Notre Dame an inspiring sight at night.

Premier jour a Paris

When I heard the heavy American accent slowly exit my mouth at the passport counter this morning, I was incredibly embarrassed. “Had I lost my French?” I feared this would happen after coming home from Rennes, France in May. However, after a long and hazy day of fatigue, adventure, and déjà vu, I felt my fluency return, and began to feel at home once again.

Our driver, Jackie, awaited us at the Charles de Gaulle airport. He was from Hong Kong and spoke Mandarin, Cantonese, French, English, Italian and another Chinese dialect. This was a perfect opportunity for me to practice my “Franglois” or Français, Anglais, and Chinois. We quickly became friends and soon were singing a famous Taiwanese song I had learned this summer, while in China. It’s embarrassing, I know, but it was a comforting and funny way to start to a fantastic trip.

After putting our bags away in the apartment, my parents and I made our way to La Place Maubert, lined with small shops, traffic, and Parisians bundled up in warm coats. The snow fell gracefully to the ground, and we hurried into a boulangerie. I smiled at the cashier and said, “On va prendre deux baguettes, s’il vous plait.” She responded abruptly, “You want two? Okay. Anything else?” I turned to my parents, a little upset, and let them finish the order in English. I felt as though my French speaking skills had been flushed down les toilettes along with my ability to appear somewhat French. Fortunately, this feeling of despair was eliminated this evening in a café on the right bank.

Our peppy 26-year-old waiter smiled and seated us. He looked bored, and my mother urged me to make a conversation in French. I swallowed my insecurity from that afternoon in the boulangerie, and asked, “Est-ce que vous etes etudiant (Are you a student)?” The conversation immediately transformed from simple small talk to interesting and fast paced discussions. We must have stayed for an hour, laughing and chatting with Armand in French, as he threw in the occasional English sentence for my parents. Soon the formal gap between us disappeared and we began to tutoi each other, the way friends would speak.

After leaving the café, I felt that I could speak French again. It became clear that confidence and openness were all I needed to make friends and that it only took a little effort to bring back my language skills. I look forward to meeting more Parisians, and will keep this lesson in mind as I begin my interviews.

Getting Ready

I'm getting ready for my trip to Paris in January, where I will interview Parisians, and create a book about them. Some will be on the streets, others I have already contacted. I will ask them questions about their lives, their jobs, and their feelings about the city of lights. Although it will be cold and wet, I'm looking forward to conducting interviews in French and getting to know the people of my favorite ville du monde!

If anyone out there has any ideas or connections, please let me know!

-Jesse Steere