Since a lot of people in France speak English, the language difference hasn’t been too much of a barrier. Don't get me wrong, it would be nice if last night when it was raining I felt comfortable enough with my French to ask for a plastic bag for my baguette (which ended up on the ground when it broke through the rain-soaked paper bag...whomp, whomp, whomp). But for the most part, in the words of my friend John, "infant-level speaking ability + mad charade skills = fluency." It’s usually more the logistics of everyday life and cultural differences that have slowed me down, like a logistical/cultural speed bump.

For example, I have a washing machine that looks nothing like my washing machine at home. There is a k*** that is labeled 100-1000. I know that can’t be minutes, so what the heck does it mean? There’s also another one that has different numbers that don’t coincide with the minutes on the digital display, so it can’t be the amount of time, and the numbers don’t match up with the word descriptions so it can’t be temperature (like 90 next to “froide” (cold)). Also, there are different slots inside the lid—I’m supposing for detergent, fabric softener and/or bleach—but the pictures are indecipherable. Then there’s the detergent. The detergent is in the form of tabs, but do the tabs go in one of the slots, or just straight in with the clothes? I figured out the words on the detergent package, but they must form sort of idiom I don’t understand, because the words put together make no sense. I spent a good half hour trying to look up the manual online in English, but when I found it, it wasn’t helpful. Eventually I gave up, took some pictures, and showed them to a coworker at work the next day to have her explain what to do.

I’ve had a particularly hard time at train stations (see my “London Calling” post). The latest train station adventure was when Kim and I were at the Gare de L’Est train station trying to find where to buy tickets to Reims. There would be a sign pointing up, so we’d follow it up the stairs and down the hall, just to find another sign that pointed us back down the stairs. When we finally found a ticket booth, the agent said he didn’t sell those tickets, we needed to go to the other booth. When we went to that booth, the agent said she was just information, we needed to go to the ticket agent across from us. Each person we spoke to, we had to try to explain what we wanted and pull out our guide book to point to the place we wanted to go since we couldn’t pronounce it. All the while, the clock was ticking and the time of departure for the train we wanted was getting dangerously close. We ended up getting to our seats with just a few minutes to spare. I felt like I was on the Amazing Race.

Other small challenges come up constantly through the day. Like, street signs are on buildings, not on the streets, but not all buildings have signs or have scaffolding in the way, and the names of streets change frequently (in less than a mile, my street changes from Blvd Haussman, then Blvd Montmartre, Blvd Poisonniere, Blvd de Bonne Nouvelle and finally Boulevard Saint-Martin).

Maybe logistical obstacle course is a better description than speed bump. This obstacle course is merely an inconvenience though, and in some cases has made my trip much more interesting and more of an “adventure.”

I know my inconveniences don’t come close to comparing to what others have dealt with without today’s technology and globalization. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for my great-grandmother and grandpa to come over from Italy, speaking no English and having no guide books or internet to help them out. Even a couple of decades ago, traversing Europe had to have been so much more difficult for my mom. I am definitely grateful to live in the era we do.