By Vasantham Annadurai, Public Health in Europe, Fall 2012
The morning I left Paris was the first time it hit me that I was leaving. The last week of classes was busy: filled with finals, presentations, and farewell parties, with hardly any time to breath. It started off with French presentations and turning in grant proposals, and ended with the last day of our Public Health class being devoted to presenting our group research projects (less than a week after submitting our near-100-page papers).
So my last day in Paris was the first time I could even process that nearly four months had gone by. I sat at the kitchen table across from my host mother for the last time. We sat in silence for a few minutes as I ate a mini-quiche and she smoked a cigarette. My room was empty and my suitcases were packed and set by the door. Instead of reminiscing or getting emotional, she talked about what she was going to do after I left for the airport, as if it were just another day. A few minutes later, we walked down to the apartment entrance, and I said goodbye to the concierge, and then to my host mother.
It was weird to think that unlike the other plane rides I took over the semester, I wouldn’t be coming back. I wouldn’t be carrying my luggage back past the Haussmannian apartments, I wouldn’t be smelling fresh bread coming from boulangeries by the apartment, and I wouldn’t get to buy a banana/nutella street crêpe right after the trip. While it still is an odd realization, all I can do is be grateful that I have had the experience to study a beautiful language, learn about so many rich cultures, and meet some great people along the way.
Adios, auf wiedersehen, dag, and ciao, Europe. And Paris, à la prochaine.
Our French class at the Farewell Party. (Photo from Veronica Lee)
The Eiffel Tower on the night that I first saw it; it was just as stunning four months later.