Paris can be overwhelming at times. It is difficult being in a
place where I am unable to clearly communicate my feelings, emotions, and
wants. I find myself doing charades at the dinner table when trying to explain
to my host family what I meant to say, and I have to repeat myself often when I
need something at the store.
I think that sometimes I find myself missing Chicago for that
reason. At least I know Chicago, and I am not labeled as foreign the minute I
open my mouth. Anyway, this weekend several of us decided to go to Spain. And
in Spain they speak Spanish. (Duh). If Spain taught me one thing, it is that I
know absolutely no Spanish. At least in french I can ask for bread. I can
understand almost everything people ask of me. I can understand almost all of
the small talk that takes place near me at cafes, on the metro. This weekend
was a confidence boost. When it seems like I know almost no French, it turns
out that I do.
Thinking about the language barrier in general; it is so
humbling. You have to assimilate to the culture here, and most of us don’t have
the vocabulary to reject. I have learned a lot about myself, and I have been
forced to become much more of a go with the flow person. I learned to sit in a café
and try to understand what people are saying, and I have most definitely gotten
better at reading people’s emotions and facial expressions. I don’t think that
I would have grown as much as a person if I was able to fluently speak the
language.
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