I have a cold, but its in France

by Ashton Irwin
Universite de Savoie, France

...So it's ok.


The past few days have been really busy and I haven't had much of a chance to actually update this. I went on a hike on Sunday to this mountain across from Mont Blanc which is the highest mountain in France, maybe Europe, I'm not actually sure. I'm sure they said, but everything's in French here and some things get lost in translation for me. Most things get lost in translation for me, actually. The hike was really hard. Even our guide from the school who goes hiking on a weekly basis told us after the fact that we did well because it was such a hard and steep hike. There were a few times where I wanted to give up and felt really defeated. That's becoming the theme of this place -- becoming defeated and then finding what it takes to push through it.

We finally got to the top and the view was worth it. The pain is always worth the reward here. I keep forgetting how much I hate the hike up too and just keep signing up for more of them. I was already feeling a little sick before the hike though, and now I think I have a pretty full blown case of the sniffles. Hiking a mountain will do that.

The next day we went to class and then almost immediately left for Lyon, which so far is probably one of my least favorite cities in France. The tour was boring because he really didn't show us anything interesting besides the cathedral and then we kept looking at the same building over and over. It wasn't the same, but they all looked the same. It was a failed attempt at a historical lesson on Lyon.

After the tour we wandered around and hiked up this huge hill to go to another big cathedral type building. The girls that I was with were all speaking French and some of them weren't as accepting of my inability to comprehend the conversation or respond. I stayed silent for most of it, unless someone was willing to speak English to me. There were some comments made, I later found out, about how we are in France to speak French and not to speak English. I took it kind of personal, but there was nothing I could do. I've only been here two weeks. I'm in France to learn French, and I can't help that it's a slow process. I'm sure they wouldn't have minded having someone there to translate for them if they couldn't understand.

That was just all a little disheartening. I was tired and sickly and just kind of felt defeated that night too. I was starting my spiral. According to people here -- week 3 is the "I'm homesick, I'll never be able to speak this stupid language, I'm miserable" week. I'm probably right on track. I don't know if I'll ever speak this language well, especially if people make me sad. It makes me less willing to attempt to speak because I feel like their judging me either way.

I'm done with classes now. At least the first intensive part of classes. I don't have to go back until October so I have a lot of free days coming up that I'm going to use very well. The next four days are already pretty much mapped out for me, but they're going to be awesome.

Last night was the first night I went out with a bunch of people. We had a dinner party at the other American's apartment and then went out to a few bars afterwards. I had the time of my life. I danced for about 4 hours and a few Spaniards taught me...maybe a salsa, I'm not really sure. It was amazing and I'll definitely be doing it again. I love this place, still. Even through the rough patches.