When travelling abroad and alone, culture shock is not a one time occurrence, but more of a daily experience. When I first arrived in France, I started to realize that I was a bit in over my head. I was under the impression that I was well equipped to live in France alone since I am well travelled and I have family all throughout Europe. Although these things did assist me throughout my time abroad, it did not prevent me from undergoing various experiences that left me a little confused and embarrassed. For instance, getting from the airport in Paris to the train station in Lille was a little bit of a nightmare. This was the moment when I realized that I had completely overestimated my level of French and underestimated everyone’s level of English. Despite growing up in the tri-state area and basically living in and out of Penn Station my whole life, Gare du Nord was the most utterly confusing and difficult place to navigate through. If it wasn’t for a nice older French man who saw me struggling and helped me, then I probably wouldn’t have made it to Lille. Later on that day, after dropping my bags at home I realized that I needed sheets and towels for my room. This was when I realized I had no idea where to even look for things like that. I mean, it’s not like they had a Target or Walmart.

After wandering in and around Lille’s Grand Place, I was able to purchase, well what I thought was, pillows, sheets and towels for my room. After trekking back to my room, I discovered that despite my efforts, the set of sheets turned out to be one fitted sheet and the towel turned out to be a towel for a very small child. Further defeat followed once I realized I did not know how to return these items and so I just accepted it and tried to move on. After that tiny fiasco, I decided to destress and treat myself to a nice dinner at an outside cafe. Unsure of whether to wait to be seated or to sit myself, I awkwardly stood outside for 15 minutes as servers would pass by. It was then that I realized I had only eaten at a restaurant in Europe with my family members, who were typically natives to the country we were visiting. This meant that I did not have to pay attention to minor customs such as this, when in reality I should have. And so, after an anxiety-filled and exhausting first 24 hours in France, I ended it by sleeping on my singular fitted sheet and wrapping myself up in my winter parka.