Day #45 - Why year abroads can totally suck

The title of this post is a little more pessimistic than I was going for. However, I think it's really important for people to understand what I mean by it, and, as I'm actually heading back to the UK tomorrow, so it seems only right that I should do a sort of round-up of my first half-term here in Rouen.

When you set off for a year abroad, there are plenty of pamphlets and websites telling you how 'exciting' years abroad can be - people travel the continent, make friends for life (the University of Edinburgh was particularly keen to tell me the ERASMUS programme's marriage statistics), learn more about themselves, find self-confidence and master their second or third languages to near-bilingualism. A year abroad is frequently toted as 'the best year of your life'.
Personally, I wasn't particularly bowled over by the idea of leaving all my new friends at university behind - they become your adopted family in so many ways, and leaving an entire support network was (and still is) absolutely terrifying to me. With the whole 'you're-going-to-have-to-do-Freshers-again-but-in-French' thing added on top, I was not too excited. Nevertheless, I filled out all my forms, got all my paperwork in on time, and started finding accommodation and courses online.

When I first arrived in Rouen, there was a sort of floating honeymoon period where I stayed with my friend Eleri (whose name should only ever been noted down in this blog if it is followed by the words 'my lifesaver') and we spent about two weeks attempting to complete our timetables. If we didn't achieve much - or anything - in a day, we would simply shrug, then head out into the town centre and sit out in the sunshine, drinking wine. I ate a lot of pastries. Once she got her wi-fi installed? Ah, it was bliss.

Then there was a sort of... slump. It came about two and a half weeks in. Two and a half weeks of sleeping on a friend's sofa bed, two and a half weeks of being messed around by the banks, by my university in Rouen, by my university back home. Two and a half weeks spent living out of the same suitcase. The fact that the days were getting colder and Autumn was closing in was just a cherry on top.
It was at this point that I started complaining - mainly to my other friends on exchange programmes across Europe and beyond (we may be scattered across the globe but they're very important and helpful when it comes to things like this). It turns out that this is quite a common problem. I even found articles online and blogs trying to outline the '5 Stages of Moving Abroad'. There aren't always 5 - sometimes there are 3, or 18 - but all of them suggest that at some point, things get really hard and gross. You see all your friends on ERASMUS exchanges having fun and don't understand why you aren't. You don't have the motivation to get up and talk to anyone, or go to classes, or listen to anyone speak any other language besides your own. What you really want is a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich and your old bedroom back. I quite like calling it The Slump, and not The Week And A Half You Spend In Bed Watching RuPaul's Drag Race And Complaining On The Internet, but they take exactly the same form.

RuPaul's Drag Race; beacon of hope for ERASMUS students everywhere

I didn't really get it. I was doing everything right - I finally moved into my new house and set up my bedroom as best I could, and I didn't even feel particularly homesick. I just felt... kind of... not right. It didn't quite add up. Where were all my friends I had been promised? Why didn't the French kids understand me? And I was way too poor to do all the cool trips and holidays and weekends away that the pamphlets talked about.

But about four weeks in, something changed. I'm not sure whether my brain kind of broke and I just decided to go with it. Maybe it was because I realised that I had to take action when making friends, rather than waiting around for someone to talk to me. Maybe it was the fact that, slowly, I was piecing my timetables and my courses together. But things got better. I made some friends. I learned where you can find fresh milk. I started going to classes. Things started to get good. I've got a little bit of that French laissez-faire attitude now, guys. I have friends who are willing to help me smuggle bacon into the country. I have places to go and things to do and it's almost taken a month just to re-realise that France is HUGE and I can go ANYWHERE I LIKE. It's a slower pace of life than I was used to with my hectic Summer and my squillions of societies back in Edinburgh, but the travelling and the new experiences more than make up for it. And I think that, if this is how it is now, then it can only get better.

But, if you're having the same deal, just remember that everybody goes through The Slump.

So as for best year of my life? It's got potential. But ERASMUS grant will finally come in two weeks. Then it'll be hur är det, Sweden and hola, Barcelona with my new friends!

Josie
x

P.S. I'm going to Paris today! Don't expect tourist photos, though, Meg's a local now x