Becoming a Parisian: The first 48 hours

The first forty-eight hours into my new life as a Parisian felt like a hazy dream. After landing at the Charles De Gaulle airport in Paris, it was around midnight my time back home in Oklahoma, and seven in the morning in Paris. I was extremely fatigued from the journey over, but my excitement to be in the place I had dreamed about for so long took over on autopilot.
The airport became my first encounter with hearing the beautiful french language being spoken by most and the realization that I was actually in France had hit me. It was a rush of happiness and disbelief, and in that moment I had forgotten how tired I was.
Emannuelle, my french tutor, was the first french person to meet and greet me at the airport. Her face was refreshing and adorned with a huge smile that instantly made me forget that we were strangers. She was super bright and sweet from my first impression, and I could not wait to learn more about her and her life in France. We loaded her cute and small Fiat car and were off to Créteil, the small suburb of Paris where my new home, the MLK Church awaited.
After arriving at the MLK Church I was introduced to Gaëlle, my super sweet dorm pastor, and a few more of the contacts of the church over my first cup of french coffee. I was half-asleep at this point in time, and it was only nine thirty in the morning in France. The coffee was delicious, and meeting the church people was amazing. It felt as if I was dreaming and that I would soon wake up back in Oklahoma.
After meeting the contacts, Gaëlle asked if I wanted to have lunch that afternoon with her and Hunter, one of the other study abroad students from ORU that had arrived a few days prior. In my fatigued state, I agreed and headed to my cute little flat to take a much needed nap before lunch. My little nap turned into four and a half hours, meaning that I had accidentally slept through lunch and was now rushing to get ready for Yesenia, my new roomie and fellow abroad students' arrival around six. It all still felt like a dream to me.
Eventually, Yesenia arrived and I was so excited. I showed her our new room, and we then met with Hunter to go take the metro to get dinner at the Créteil mall, one station over. I was surrounded by the french language everywhere I looked, and it was a sight to behold. This had my brain thinking back to my basic French classes, in order to understand the signs and posters. The mall smelled of beautiful french pastries along with cigarettes, and the people held stern faces as they walked by. It was as if I was in a completely different world, which is true.
The three of us headed into McDonalds for dinner, which was interesting. We had a blast looking through the electronic menu, which contained items

that I had never heard of in America. Before I knew it, we were back into our flat at MLK, and I was drifting to sleep.
The next day I awoke with confusion and eagerness. I was jet-lagged, but not too much, and ready to take a trip into the city. Yesenia, Hunter, and I hopped onto the metro and headed into Paris with no plan or place in mind. We were on a spontaneous adventure to explore our new home. We made our way to the station called "Opéra," and I could not believe my eyes as we came out of the metro. I was finally seeing the streets of Paris, something I had only seen in pictures and movies. The architecture was brilliantly beautiful, and the streets were busy with cars and tourist busses. A woman said something to me in french, to which I replied "Je suis Americaine, et je ne parle pas leur français." She then answered that she was American as well, and asked for me to take her families' photo in front of the beautiful music academy. My first time speaking some french had went smoothly, which boosted my confidence and maybe a little too much.
After taking the photo and having our own group photo taken, we headed down a street to which lead us to the famous Louvre museum. I could not stop taking pictures of everything as we searched around for somewhere to eat. We came upon a typical french café, and ate some amazing french cuisine. I used more french with our waitress who spoke no english, which again boosted my confidence in the basic french.
The first two days as a Parisian were a wonderful blur. I was amazed and beside myself at the sights, language, and amazing people that I had met, and knew that there was so much more to come.