Recollections of my Study Abroad Experience in France: Conclusion

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<span>Note: All the events in this entry occurred back in May 2<span>0<span>07. For more updated trips and entries, please refer back to this blog at a later date. An updated trip or blog will NOT include a note like this. Thanks and enjoy!



My spring break trip to Spain would be my last trip while in Europe. I now had a month left to finish packing and send off any left over souvenirs I still had. I almost didn't get to send all of my souvenirs back because the national Post Office branches decided to go en greve or on strike (for more information please see my blog entitled "A Typical Day In My Life in Aix.") Auspiciously, however the Post Offices reopened all over France two weeks before I was scheduled to fly back home. My souvenirs were sent home.



<span>I purchased my airplane tickets to fly back to the US a week after I returned from Spain from Travelocity<span>. The cheapest flights I could find were with Alitalia, for 8<span>0<span>0 euros, with the following itinerary: 6 AM Marseilles-1<span>0AM connection in Milan, arrive in Miami, FL at 4 PM EST. My parents were going to pick me up to bring me back to my home town, Everglades City, which is located 2 hours away on the Gulf coast of Florida.



<span><span>Repacking my bags was not a huge issue because for most part, my clothes were left in my largest suitcase, therefore I had to only take the clothing I had left on the clothes rack Camille, my host mother, had provided for me to use during my stay. A few days before I left, I decided to purchase a going away present for her, as a thank you gift. In March 2<span>0<span>07, a new shopping center had opened up off the Cours Mirabeau and Place de la Fontaine, which featured stores like Sephora, Pimkie, Jenifer and Nature et Decourvert. I found a Zara, that sold lovely household items. I found a lovely silver photo frame for 2<span>0 euros that I thought she could use to put a picture of her grandson in it. Zara's customer service gladly gift wrapped it for me, and I then went to a local stationary store to find a nice card to go with it. I dont remember verbatem what I wrote, but in my best French possible I expressed my gratitude for her hospitality, advice and friendship. After my shopping trip, I come home and give her the gift after dinner. Her response was to give me a hug and I responded likewise. She encouraged me to keep in contact with her and I made sure that she had my e-mail address.



<span>The day before my departure arrives. I have my last class of the semester, which happens once I finish my final. I then hit the streets of Aix for one last time, trying to meander past a crowd of British tourists to get back to Camille's apartment. Once I'm back at Camille's apartment I grab my luggage and violin case, follow Camille to her car, and she drops me off the Cours Mirabeau to pick up a taxi. With tears, a hug and a bisoux (the French greeting of kissing both cheeks) we part ways. I get into a taxi, which takes me to the Best Western Hotel located on the Marseille International Airport campus. While at the hotel, I order room service, my last dinner to date. It was poisson provencal (Provencal style fish) with rice, very nicely done but not my best meal in France. I watched my favorite French television station, Arte and call my mom to make preparations for our reunion tomorrow. I also call one of my new friends, Bianca, to tell her that I'm getting ready to leave and get contact information from her so that we can keep in touch once I return to the US. I go to bed at 8 PM GMT, and get a wakeup call from the hotel's concierge at 2 AM GMT, I get dressed, grab my bags, and head downstairs to catch the earliest shuttle to the airport. Everything goes smoothly; I exchange my e-tickets for tickets, I check my luggage and get my carry on luggage squared away. I go through security without trouble and my plane arrives ontime. My plane arrives in Milan without problems, my passport is stamped indicating my leave of the EU. I wait an hour for my plane to Miami to arrive, which it does. Everyone for this flight was met by two US officials with a computer, who looked at immigration information and asked us why we were coming to the US. I reacted to this with culture shock because I was so used to the carefree, your life is your <span><span>own business attitude in France and other European states. Nonetheless, I handed over my American passport, told them I was coming home and with a nod gesturing that I go through the breezeway to the plane I walk away. I find my seat, put my carry on luggage away and sleep for most of the flight. I did watch some of the movie, which was "Save the Last Dance," starring Antonio Banderras. I had seen this movie ironically with the same Parisian friend I met up with in Paris back in September 2<span>0<span>06 (for more information, please refer to my blog entry entitled "First Trip to Paris,") and a group of other students during the Spring 2<span>0<span>06 at a local theater in Rock Hill, SC (I was attending Winthrop University at the time). I also listened to the radio, particularly the Italian pop station. In between films I got to see the music video for Scattoro una Foto, a song written and performed by Tzianno Ferro; I had purchased the CD with this song on it as a souvenir during my visit to Italy back in February-March 2<span>0<span>07 (for more information, please refer back to my blog entries that take place in Italy). I began to think of this trip, and so many of my others throughout Europe and I began to cry.




Finally, my plane lands in Miami International Airport. I feel overwhelmed because I'm hearing English spoken all around me for the first time in 9 months, and I also find it strange to see English written as the primary language on signs. I then go down stairs to the carosel to wait for my luggage. It takes an hour for my bags to finally appear, however I grab them and head upstairs. I see a huge crowd of people surrounding the security exit, among them are my mother and father. My parents, overjoyed run to embrace me and take my luggage away. I am rather quiet and just overwhelmed. I follow them to the car, and we begin the two hour drive back to Everglades City. "How was your trip hon?" asks my mom. My dad then begins to ask "So what was France like?" More questions about my life abroad came at me. "Mom, dad could you please speak slowly and repeat your questions? I've spoken four languages in one day, and it's been a long time since I've been around English on a daily basis like this." My parents didn't expect this and neither did I, however they repeated their questions, slowly and I did my best to answer. I looked at the scenerary as we drove back home-lots of strip malls, red and black mangroves whipsed past us, palm trees, egrets flying. I felt like I was on another planet in a far off galaxy. I was born not far from there, graduated from high school in Everglades City-I was as native as one could get, yet for some reason I felt uncomfortable. I was ready to return to France.




<span><span>I spend the rest of my summer teaching English in Naples and experimenting with cooking once I got home to Everglades City. It took me a year to finally adjust to being back in the US, but even then I missed the food, the architecture, the people, and the shopping. I missed the French city, for its urban, historical architectural charm. I also missed public transportation and having the freedom to travel around Europe. Finally, August arrived, and it was time for my parents to help me move into my new apartment,which I would be renting by myself across from Winthrop University in Rock Hill, SC. It was time for me to go back to school, and finish my bachelors degrees, which I did happily on May 21, 2<span>0<span>09. I then moved to Boston, where I studied my Masters degree at Suffolk University. Currently, I am interning and volunteering for two NGOs and trying to start my Avon business while I look for work. Will I travel again? Of course, stay tuned!

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