By Mark Parent, A special to The Carolinian

Published in print Feb. 11, 2015

Today I write to you from cold and cloudy Lyon, France.  As some of you may know, I am currently taking a semester-long hiatus from The Carolinian in order to study abroad in France. Yet, some folks back at the office thought it would be interesting to have some articles detailing students’ experiences overseas.  So, I’ll do my best to share some of the coolest and most awkward stories that I’ve managed to accumulate thus far.

But first, I need to tell you about French stereotypes.  Now, I know that stereotypes are (allegedly) morally wrong and encourage individuals to judge others prematurely. However, the French must be an exception to this rule, because they seem to meet their stereotypes like Cinderella’s foot fit into a glass slipper. To back up this claim, I’ll give you some examples.

First, the French really are amazing cooks.  The bread, charcuterie and even pasta here is delicious. 

Second, the French are all really skinny, despite the fattening food they all devour three times a day.

Third, the French smoke more cigarettes than Cheech and Chong smoke weed. I just hope it’s North Carolina tobacco rolled in that paper.

Fourth, the French taste in fashion is impeccable; never before have I seen so many well-dressed people.

Fifth, the French have a kind of depressed look on their faces as they’re going throughout the day. Yet, this stereotype is pretty much a myth because most normal French people you bump into on the street are nothing less than nice.

Sixth, way too many public service employees in France are rude; rarely will you talk to someone who is nice and chit-chatty when you’re working out issues concerning your bills and visa.  This is, in my estimation, the primary reason for the “mean French” stereotype.

Seventh, the wine is really cheap here, while the beer is pretty reasonable.  So if you’re an underage American in France, like me, life is good!

As you can see, this short list of stereotypes is proof that France really is a great place to live; although, it’s not nearly as great as the United States. Nevertheless, there are still a few things that Americans need to know about France before they book their tickets and grab their silly little beret, which, thankfully, no one wears here. 

Mainly, you need to know that the French do not speak English very well.  Younger people tend to speak English fairly well, but not perfectly.  And middle-aged to older generations may only know the basics. 

Next, you have to be comfortable being an American abroad.  I know this might sound odd, because there’s this feeling that Europeans dislike Americans. But, based on my experience, I can tell you that most Europeans love American culture and many would like to live in America one day.  In fact, I find it refreshing to see that the idea of the American dream is alive and well in Europe.

Sadly, however, this is not always the case. 

Americans are bound to come across situations where things can get uncomfortable.  For instance, when the Charlie Hebdo shootings occurred during my first week in France, the State Department issued a travel warning and informed all Americans abroad to take extra precautions.

Another example can be found when I stepped off of the train in Geneva.  It was here that a Swiss man shouted, “American!” at me repeatedly and then spat at the ground in disgust. 

Fortunately, these situations arise so little that it doesn’t even slightly impact the trip. Of course, it’s hard to even care what Europeans think about your country’s politics when you can’t stop consuming all of that delectable Swiss chocolate that makes Hershey’s taste like cardboard.

Oh, and I would be remiss if I failed to mention the drastic difference between French and American nightclubs and parties. First of all, grinding might as well be forbidden in France. That’s right, no “white girl wasted grinding” occurs in France; instead, it’s “white girl wasted bad dancing.”

And secondly, taking the last metro into the club at midnight on a Saturday night is an unbelievable experience.  It’s during this time that you and a thousand other millennials pack into the subway like sardines and sing French songs. 

Of course, since my friends and I speak very poor French, we just mimicked the words as best we could, which means we were shouting rhythmic gibberish.

At this point, I think it’s safe to say that I have had a wonderful time in France.  Through all the troubles of adjusting to Celsius, wearing scarves and pretending to be bilingual, I have undoubtedly grown as both a person and student.

By the way, I’m only one month into the semester. Au revoir.