I had booked a car to take me to LaGuardia airport around 1 o'clock, so I waited downstairs with my two overweight bags and a third carry-on. My driver pulled up and I watched him struggle to put my luggage in the car. I felt terrible, but it was overrun by the thoughts of a possible overweight charges and a rude lecture from the airlines. As we made our way through NYC traffic, I could not help but to feel a sense of regret. Was I making the right decision? I knew I would miss New York so much, and all of my friends were here, the opportunities were here... what was I doing? I thought maybe if I jumped out of the car now, perhaps I could just rejoin the regular New York students and continue on living my normal life.
I didn't though.
and after a couple minutes of silently watching the sky scrapers pass by, my driver spoke to me.
"Where are you going?" He asked, perhaps to break the dead silence rather than out of courtesy.
"Paris," I responded curtly, I was in no mood to talk, let alone gush about how excited I was...( I was not).
My driver grinned and began to speak to me in French. I sat listening to him rattle on about his adventures in Paris and the time his girlfriend began to shout at him in the middle of the street because she thought he was cheating on her--and through this, I began to feel better about leaving my wonderful city. And perhaps it was because he was speaking in a perfect French accent without slang or too many slurrs or too quickly, but I understood what he was saying. This was probably the most encouraging thing for me, almost like a sign from God saying "See you can do this." So as I sat there conversing with this random man about my future in Paris, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I'd be alright.
My plane ride was a bit hectic. There were thunderstorms right as I was departing, but thankfully I caught an earlier flight through stand-by. I flew with Air Canada, and despite my coach seat, I had a great time. I watched all the latest movies, The Hunger Games, The Intouchables, and The Avengers all on a tiny screen directly in front of me. This mixed with a few glasses of wine (free on Air Canada), and a not so delectable dinner, I woke up in France.
Scrambling to find the rest of the NYU Paris group, I realized they were all the way across the airport. CDG is not compact either, so I pushed by little trolly full of suitcases through the airport and met up with the rest of the group. On the bus to our FIAP (youth hostel), where we were staying for a few nights, I fell asleep.
The next couple of days were a mix of emotions. I think everyone in my program was tired and restless. We were all looking for friends, but at the same time trying to keep our options opened in case we didnt really like the people that we met. I cant deny I didn't do the same thing. I really hate this whole orientation process. Its a bit of a cow herd being led across grass. No one knows where they are going or what is even going on.
its a big, huge, freaking mess.
But for the most part, I am enjoying my time here.
Eating too much, drinking too much, taking too many pictures, seeing too many beautiful people.
For now, everything is in excess... and whats not to love? I believe the moderation will come sometime in the near future.
Tips for students:
I recommend that you fly into Paris earlier. You need the time to adjust to the weather here as well as the speed of life, and time difference.
Go to the meetings and other orientation stuff: even though it sucks and seems like a waste of time, you should still meet people in your school.
Study the map before you come. Know the arrondissments and what they are called, perhaps even the metro system a bit.
Make french friends. Trust me, you wont know where to go until you've been in the area for quite a bit. Make friends at the grocery store and cafés. Just talk it up!
No comments:
Post a Comment