When I arrived home from the Eiffel Tower, I unpacked my bags and wanted to go straight to bed. However, the European Cup was on that night, and apparently it’s quite a big deal to every single European. Mme. Lafont and the middle-aged German woman who was also staying there both huddled into my room for the last five minutes of the intense game of Spain versus Germany. Spain won, and I was left with a very angry German woman and an understanding that I was to leave her alone during this time of mourning.

By breakfast time, she seemed to have recovered. She and I prepared a light breakfast of cereal, fruit, and tea. Her French was impeccable, but apparently she needed to improve some minor faults that I most certainly did not notice. This brings me to the main reason why I actually went through all of the trouble of getting to Paris: to learn French. I was referred to L’École Suisse Internationale, a language school specifically for non-native speakers wishing to improve their skills. That was me! I had taken French since elementary school, but I really believed that immersion was the only way to truly learn another language. That was my goal.

The school building, itself, was very nice: three stories with a tall, open ceiling, classrooms, and a very modern computer lab. There were about 10 other students already there which sort of calmed my nerves. They seemed friendly enough. I didn’t know it at that time, but those other students were going to become my best friends for the next five weeks. Where the school was originally only for Swiss students, a large majority of them were from the German-speaking sector of Switzerland. I knew very little German, and they knew very little English, so French was our only common thread.

The first day consisted of hours and hours of placement tests, both written and oral comprehension and expression. I did fairly well, and landed between the medium and advanced level class. I was given the choice, and I figured the advanced level would force me to learn more quickly, so that is what I chose. For the first week or so, I was very lost and I almost regretted my decision. Yet after a couple of weeks, I knew that I had made the right choice.

The teachers were amazing. There were none of the stuffy formalities that I had expected. All of them made it clear that we were friends learning in an informal setting. This was a huge relief. I felt the freedom to ask them random questions or to joke around with them, and that really helped my confidence level.

By the end of the school day, I had a pounding headache, but I was in no way ready to go home. All of the students were just starting to loosen up a bit after communally suffering through those exams, and we decided to hang out for a while. I was really excited, but then I asked myself, “What do French people do after school?” I was about to find out.