A day as an American in Paris

I was warned of many things before I began studying abroad in Paris. The beautiful monuments, the breathtaking street views, the unmatched cuisine — these were all typical Parisian stereotypes that guided my decision to study abroad in the city of lights. But I was warned too of the less-savory Parisian stereotypes — the rude, arrogant nature of the French people and their general distaste for tourists. It was with this perceived notion that I began my new Parisian experience.

Though most of my Parisian encounters — from my lovely home stay family to the staff at the ACCENT center where my USC classes are being held — were quite pleasant, I found the typical Parisian to be very reserved and unassuming. Though this didn’t translate to outright hostility, I noticed the difference between the way Parisians interacted with me versus my non-French speaking fellow Americans.

But all of my perceived notions were challenged one Sunday morning. Having had only been in Paris for about a week, I decided to go for a run to better explore my neighborhood in the 15th arrondissement. I knew the Eiffel Tower wasn’t too far (it’s kind of hard to miss), so I figured it’d be the perfect destination. I set off running with nothing but my house keys and my fully charged iPhone, which doubled as both a music player and a map to guide me down the beautiful side-streets of Paris.

Twenty minutes into my run, Le Tour Eiffel was in full view. Like back in the states, Sunday morning runs are definitely common among the Parisians, and before long I found myself surrounded by dozens of other runners. But then the unthinkable happened — my phone died. Not only did it die with almost 80 percent battery remaining (for reasons still unknown), but it died before I could figure out how to get home.

I thought about retracing my steps, but between all the near-identical streets and the flurry of tourists, I knew there was no chance I’d make it back on my own. Moreover, as I began to do less jogging and more worrying, the Parisian cold began to set in. Not only was I was stuck in an unknown part of town with no idea of where I was going, but I also had no money or metro pass to get myself anywhere resembling home. Parfait.

Looking for a way to charge my phone, I walked over to two Eiffel Tower security guards in hopes that one of them would be able to point me in the direction of a nearby Apple Store. The female guard asked me if I had any metro tickets, to which I sheepishly admitted that I had forgotten them. I expected a glare of disapproval or a not-so silent muttering of, “stupide Americaine.” But to my surprise, I was instead met with a sympathetic smile. The guard turned to her colleagues to see if they had any extra metro tickets before ultimately fishing through her own pursue to pull out a coin. “This should get you one ticket,” she said, handing me two Euros. “Bon Courage!”

I was stunned. I accepted her generosity, but not before thanking her profusely in both English and French. If studying abroad has taught me anything thus far, it’s that it’s probably best to leave one’s perceived notions of a city or its people behind. That — and to never leave home without my metro pass ever again.