Happy One-Month, Dear France

So, you know how I said in my very first post that I was looking forward to my second month in France when I’ve settled into a more predictable routine? As of yesterday, it’s officially been a month since I arrived in Bordeaux, and I’m here to tell you that there is no such thing as a study abroad routine.

To be sure, I finally have a finalized class schedule after two and a half weeks of battling the bureaucracy, sleeping through 8 a.m. classes I wanted to take, and trying to accrue enough credits. However, the university system here always has a curveball to throw with frequent last-minute changes and unexplained course cancellations. So far, I’ve shown up to a lecture only to find out it was cancelled, had two classes relocated to different rooms at the last minute and another randomly rescheduled for earlier in the day. Consistency, evidently, is not key in France.

Following the advice of every study abroad student before me, I did find two cafés where I routinely do my work. However, even with something as sacred as a French food establishment, I’ve run into unexpected difficulties. For example, one café—a self-professed study spot for college students—uniquely serves brunch (no, you can’t just have a coffee, Madame) on Saturday and Sunday afternoons and does not allow computers to be used, yes, even if you order brunch. In fact, the concept of studying on the weekends is largely nonexistent here. Perhaps because it truly is necessary to take the day to recover from all the bars you visited the night before. Some cafés are also closed on Mondays (why? who knows!), which is the only day of the week where I don’t have classes and I am not recovering from a party. So, I pretty much live at the university (8 a.m.-7 p.m.) Tuesday through Thursday, then proceed to go out on Thursday because it is the single most popular party day here and struggle in my Friday 8 a.m., spend the weekend afternoons unsuccessfully trying to get work done in my bed, and finally give up and sleep through Monday.

In short, I love it here and I will be very offended in September when I am forced to attend classes between 12 p.m. and 2 p.m. instead of receiving a two-hour lunch break, as is the natural order of the universe here. I honestly cannot believe that a month has already passed since I broke the lock on my bathroom door, and I like to think that I’ve since learned enough French to successfully extricate myself from a similar situation should it recur.

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