It’s a tough ask to follow up on the great Tania Azhang’s American In Paris column for two reasons. One: I’m not Tania Azhang. Two: I’m not in Paris.
I’m in Reims.
When I opened my study abroad application for Sciences Po Paris this summer, I was thrilled, having gotten into my top-choice university.
Paris seemed just like home in New York, and perhaps more importantly, having spoken the language for the better part of my life, I was presented with the opportunity to go to France for the first time ever. I fully expected to board the flight to Charles de Gaulle, walk out of the airport, and see the Eiffel Tower in front of me.
Initially I was disappointed. Then I was embarrassed at myself for being disappointed. Then I was annoyed at myself for being embarrassed.
Now, I find myself actively searching for that “thing” people have been telling me about. I reckon everyone has heard the adage that studying abroad is THE semester, one that will transform your life, make you a different, better person. As such, I’ve been searching for said enchanted scroll, or perhaps specifically THE moment when I feel it.
Still, I can’t find it. I feel like I’m just checking the days off. It isn’t an inherently bad situation –– Reims is nice –– but it isn’t the life-changing experience that I had sought.
Initially, I thought it was the place. Like I said, Reims is nice, but Reims is also Reims, and I don’t reckon you’d visit it unless you go to school there. Perhaps if I were in Barcelona or Paris, I’d feel it more.
But even still, I don’t think that’s true. I visited my girlfriend for her birthday in Barcelona, and things felt different, but not different enough. Did I enjoy it more than Reims? Yes. Was I jealous and spent the majority of my time wishing I had gone to school there? Undoubtedly yes.
That isn’t the point. Even now, I still get these original feelings of embarrassment. I don’t love Reims. And I think that’s fair –– I’m under no obligation to like it.
This being said, I don’t have much of a right to complain. My editor read this and told me to get a hold of myself. They were right. I have this exceptional opportunity. There is no distaste. It’s just kinda there. Perhaps my expectations of study abroad have unfairly dulled my perception of Reims.
That’s the point. I, and perhaps we, have all been a bit foolish in exaggerating the concept of study abroad. As humans, we tend to exaggerate things because it’s easier to do so and more appealing than stating the truth.
Here’s the truth. The jury is still out on whether that revelation is out there –– I’ve been here for about five minutes –– but living in a new country won’t instantly make you a better person. In fact, living in a foreign place guarantees nothing. You might end up a worse person than before you left. I think that’s up to you, not some country.
And this makes sense. Because living in Barcelona felt like living in New York. There was no revelation there either, it was just living in a big city. I was still knocking out the days, simply with more joy and excitement.
My study abroad experience can be best summarized by a 3-mile run and a six-pack of Evian. I told myself I was going to go on a minimum 5-mile run at sunset to explore Reims and set some sort of daily routine. 2.15 miles in, my uncle FaceTimed me and I realized I had missed our scheduled call. I ran to a boulangerie, got a quick dinner while everyone looked at a random dude sweating in workout clothes, ran back, and caught the call.
Weeks later, upon returning home from Barcelona, I missed my TGV, caught the metro, ran around in Paris with 6 percent on my phone, and finally made it to Reims about three hours after I was supposed to. On the way home, I stopped at the only open convenience market I knew of to pick up Evian water. It was cheap, and I was excited. All I had forgotten was the 20-minute trek home I now had to make with a massive Evian container that bit into my hand as I walked.
That all felt, well, incredibly normal. Not bad, normal. Like I’m just figuring things out, day by day.
Thinking about it now, I’m not sure this revelation I’m searching for exists, even in New York. Maybe some years ago, but now I am just enjoying what I think is the best city in the world.
Maybe it isn’t profound. I do know that it’s different. That it took a while to write. Longer than I expected.
Maybe I’ll teach myself to cook abroad. I think I’ll start small. Maybe some chicken with rice and pesto pasta. It’s easy, and pretty good.
Editor-in-Chief Adam Akins PZ ’27 has labeled Otto Fritton PZ ’27 “A house with many rooms.” Otto isn’t sure what that means.
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