Changing to French currency

Bonnie White is a senior majoring in journalism.

PARIS – I was beginning to think the phrase “studying abroad” was a nice euphemism for a semester vacationing in a foreign city while still receiving college credit.
That was until my classes started last week.

Before they began, I had been living in Paris for three weeks and had gotten used to finding ways to occupy my time by discovering the city, indulging in delicious cuisine and trying to look like a local.

So when the time came to start classes, it was a complete shock to my system. Oh, and did I mention that all my classes are in French?

Luckily, after three weeks of constantly being around French people, I have become better acquainted with the language.

Unfortunately, knowledge of small talk and brief polite exchanges are not much help when it comes to discussing economics in the European Union or even art history.
To make matters worse, I had come down with a cold and couldn’t muster up much optimism or even a good mood to ease the pain of returning to class.

By the end of the week, I was wreaked with anxiety about whether I’ll really be able to handle keeping up with the work throughout the semester. All the readings will take longer to read because they are in French and use unfamiliar language that’s specific to the subject matter. Writing a 10-page paper is a headache in English, and I found myself wondering why I thought I could manage studying in another language at all.

When I arrived in Paris, I bought tickets for the weekend after classes started to visit my friend who is studying in Bath, England. At the time, I had no idea I’d be in need of a break.

Stressed and doubtful, I got on a plane to Bristol, and two hours later I arrived in Bath. I half expected Harry Potter, Ron and the whole lot of them to pop out from a cobblestone alley way in this ancient, adorable town surrounded by green, rolling hills.
And even better yet – I completely understood what everyone was saying. Maybe that’s an overstatement: English accents and word choices sometimes leave me with a crinkled brow, but still, you get the picture.

I was easily distracted from my prior worries with a wonderfully greasy serving of fish and chips, an English premiere league rugby game and a visit to the Roman baths.
After my second or third pint of Guinness, I started to notice how relaxed and happy the English seemed to be, always meeting for a drink and unafraid to start a conversation with whomever was standing next to them.

I finally realized I was being way too hard on myself. Yes, it will take longer to for me to finish my homework, but I’ll just have to make more time for it. And understanding what my economics teacher with the Italian accent is talking about will eventually get better.

Once again, I was just creating unnecessary anxiety for myself. This time I just needed a good breath of fresh English air to realize it.