Chapter Three: Emma in Paris

Bonjour à tous! I’m back! Did you miss me?

After the conclusion of the last section of this blog (Emma and Andrew take Europe), several people asked me if I was planning on writing posts about my year abroad. While flattered that you’re eager to hear about my adventures, I usually answered no, not necessarily. As exciting as Paris is, daily life as a student is only so fascinating. But I’ve now been here three months and I think a short reflection on this significant moment in my life is warranted. And if you’re just joining us and missed the memo, I’m in Paris for the year! I’ve returned to college after my gap year and am spending my junior year studying abroad at SciencesPo, a renowned social science university in the heart of Paris.

While I only began my formal application process for this program back in November 2021, many of you might know that spending my junior year in Paris has been close to a lifelong dream. I cannot begin to put into words how bizarre I felt this past summer as the knowledge that I was truly going to make this move started to sink in. I’d just come back from three months of travel, I had this exceptionally exciting adventure waiting for me, and yet I was stuck in this strange limbo for three months during which I did almost nothing besides work at a local restaurant and go to spin classes (I’m an exercise girl now, what can I say). It was agonizing.

But just when I thought I couldn’t take the waiting any longer, the departure date arrived. I packed up most of what I owned into a couple of suitcases, said my goodbyes, and headed for the airport.

As I’d already found an apartment before leaving, my arrival in the city went pretty smoothly. I met my landlord and got the keys to my new place, a palatial suite with stunning features such as a toilet in the middle of the room (no door) and a kitchen so small that I have to put my cutting board on top of the mini-fridge as it’s the only available quasi-counter space. This is, however, a quintessentially Parisian experience—many students spend their collegiate years in these types of apartments known as chambres de bonne, a term which refers to the tiny rooms on the top floors of most Parisian buildings that once served as maids’ quarters. I, actually, count myself lucky, as many don’t have their own toilet and use a shared one in the hall!

It may sound a bit ridiculous, but in all honesty, I love it. I couldn’t live here indefinitely, but it’s enough space for me for now and the location is fantastic.

After I dropped off my luggage, my landlord was kind enough to give me a driving tour of Paris. This was certainly helpful in terms of orienting me within my new neighborhood, but it was also terrifying enough that it has scared me out of ever wanting to get into a car with a Parisian driver again. I’ll stick to walking and the occasional metro ride, thank you.

If you’re still confused as to why I love this apartment, take a look out of my window…

My first full week in Paris was my orientation week for SciencesPo. It was a packed schedule with daily lessons on French pedagogy, lectures on French political and pop culture, and excursions into the city. I don’t know that the programming itself was incredibly helpful in terms of preparing me for the academic aspects of SciencesPo, but it was massively helpful to have a pre-set daily schedule that got me out of my room and helped me meet new people. Otherwise, I think, I would’ve sunk more deeply into the loneliness that comes from being in a new city with no community.

That being said, the first week or two in Paris were not the easiest. I fought a mean bout of jet lag which had me staring at my ceiling until well into the wee hours of the morning. As a staunch supporter of the early-to-bed, early-to-rise doctrine who often ends up asleep before 10 pm, this was crippling. I also found myself struggling more than I thought I would with a lack of motivation to do things. Between the full days of socializing, the sleep deprivation, and the mental toll of spending all day, every day communicating in a foreign language, I found myself utterly drained. Whenever I had the chance, I hurried back to my apartment, cooked myself something warm, and watched horrendous Netflix rom-com after horrendous Netflix rom-com.

While I do think my movie-binging habit and hermit-like behavior were much needed for a couple of days, they quickly started to feel much more like a hindrance than a help. By the end of the first week or so, I was ready to get out of my post-move funk and explore Paris. Incredibly, an opportunity to do just that came along fast. I’d clicked with a girl at one of the orientation events who happened to have an extra ticket to a Stromae concert, and I took her up on her invitation to go with her. I’m so glad I did. The outdoor concert was an incredibly fun time and I loved getting to participate in such a significant cultural event (Stromae is a Belgian singer deeply beloved by French people young and old, a fact made clear by the 40,000 people that came to see him perform!).

In another attempt to get myself out of my apartment and explore the city, I took a day trip to Giverny. This tiny village outside of Paris is home to Claude Monet’s famous water lily garden, as well as his former house that’s since been turned into a small museum.

Most of the time, though, I’ve been spending my time walking. I walk to class, I walk thrice weekly to the small farmers market near my house where I catch up with my produce guy, I walk to run errands and explore new neighborhoods. I have never walked so much in my entire life and I absolutely adore it.

I’m also happy to report that I’ve stumbled my way into a lovely group of friends. Unfortunately—through no fault of their own—they’re English, which means we don’t spend a lot of time speaking in French, but I hang out with them nonetheless. I’m still on the hunt for some French friends, but I’m grateful to have these placeholders while I wait.

I’m kidding, obviously (I hope!), and am genuinely grateful for these three. Keep an eye on the blog because another adventure heavily featuring Ben and les deux Katies is coming soon!

For those of you that don’t know, my francophone dreams are not entirely my own. That is to say, my parents have long served as a source of inspiration and, I’m sure, prompted my early desire to learn French. They’ve both spent multiple years in France at different points in their lives and speak French, so it’s little wonder I’ve ended up where I am. In fact, my dad’s first Parisian apartment is only a few minutes’ walk from my current home!

So when my parents told me they were planning to visit me in Paris, I was nothing short of absolutely thrilled. They arrived in late September, bearing many gifts (aka things I left at home and decided I actually did want), and got to spend an absolutely wonderful few weeks here. I adored having the chance to show them my version of Paris, even if I didn’t know it all that well yet, and the whole trip felt like a beautiful full-circle moment. We wandered the streets chatting away in French, drank wine in bustling cafes, and took lots of photos. Well, that last one was mostly my mom. In fact, some of the pictures in this blog post are courtesy of her! Thank you for letting me capitalize on your artistic talent, Mom.

Their time here was genuinely one of the highlights of my first three months, and I’m so unbelievably grateful that a) they were able to visit and b) I like hanging out with my parents so much! Mom, Dad, come back any time.

It’s only November now (okay, almost December. This blog post has been on my to-do list for a while), but I already struggle to find the words for just how at home I feel here. Yes, I had a few days of adjustment, but that’s certainly to be expected. As soon as I got my sleep schedule back on track and started getting out of the house, I fell so easily into a rapport with this city that I’ve never felt anywhere else. I left Paris for the first time in late October (blog post on that trip coming very soon!) and when I got back at the end of the week, I felt such an immediate, bone-deep relief that I was back home. I still don’t feel that way about the Chapel Hill area, and I lived there for three years!

I’m sure some of my infatuation can be attributed to the fact that it’s the first time I’m living in a big, walkable, gorgeous city full to bursting with culture and things to do, but I also think there’s just something about Paris. I don’t know how I knew, but I’ve had a feeling since I was very little that I was going to love it here and it looks like I was right.

I know that this is a polarizing city. Most people either love it or hate it, it seems, and I understand—it’s not a perfect place. It’s a city full of people. People are interesting and creative and kind and also greedy and mean and prejudiced; that’s what makes living as a human so delightfully challenging. There are plenty of valid complaints you could make about this city. But I’m not going to make them here! If you want to find someone thinking critically about Paris, go elsewhere.

Honestly, I could easily see myself spending the rest of my life here, and that’s not something I say lightly—I think it’s the first place I’ve lived where I really feel that way. Andrew, you might want to brush off that Duolingo…

I also just wanted to say thank you to the people who have asked me to update the blog. I love writing these little posts, and it’s so sweet to know there are people who want to read them. There are more coming! My semester ends this week and I have some incredibly exciting plans for my winter break (the Netherlands! Germany! Czechia! Turkey!), so I’ll be back here soon.

In love and adventure,

E