First Impressions

Culture Shock. Let’s start there.

When I was picked up from the airport the first question I was asked was, “Was the Queue very long?” And that was the start of the differences.

Everything is different.

The first week has been full of culture shock to the extreme. From the toilets to the light switches to the cars to the language to the food to the train system to the customs to the norms to the clocks to the sense of humor to the fashion to the laws to the drinking fountains to the greetings.

There are more cheeses than days of the year.

I am living in a tiny village just outside Paris, in a very old French home. Complete with three stories, beautiful balconies, winding staircases, a full library, lush gardens and intricate architecture. I would say about ten people in this village speak English. Needless to say I will be fluent in French by the time I am home.

Everyday I feel like a little girl again learning how to ask for this, what you call that, do you say bonjour on the street? Why does no one smile back? Why is 70 percent of the market devoted to bread, cheese & wine? Why did that French man just kiss both my cheeks?

I love everything. And I am so blessed to be here.