I’m not really sure how it happened…there I was, safe & sound in the dark, snuggled safely with my bottle of Guinness in another Smalltown, USA.
When I awoke, I found myself ambling along the streets of Paris, dodging landmines comprised of doggy poo while simultaneously keeping a safe distance from the fearless pigeons.
I make my way to the subway station. Sometimes, my metro card works. Other days, there might be an incident that provides me with the opportunity to demonstrate my mind-blowing athleticism as I jump over the turnstile.
I sit in the train, my nose buried in a book – something I’ve gotten in the habit of doing not only to pass the time during the trip, but also to make avoiding eye contact easier.
Whoosh – out of the train, out of the metro station…strangers approach, asking questions that I don’t understand. Maybe they’re inquiring as to my unusually large feet…
Sitting in class at the language school that will hopefully enable me to one day speak the language of my new home, I am the only native English speaker, so most people don’t understand a large percentage of what it is that I am saying. Not really a dramatic change from living in Colorado.
So, all in all…yeah, life is different. But, there’s a bar up the street that serves some cheap Guinness at happy hour. Not exactly what I would call culture-shock.
But…that’s only after surviving the gauntlet of pigeons & poo…