My dream became my address Alejandra Cid

I stepped down the train, looked around, took a deep breath and smiled back to my friend Jessica who was by my side. We walked through the 20th century train station with our backpacks on our shoulders and our 20 lbs. baggage, one in each hand. People just stared at us, as we were two 411 young women barely handling the heaviness of our luggage, yet no one offered to help. We went outside and waited anxiously for a petite 50-year old woman with frizzy short hair and John Lennon-style glasses to pick us up. There she is! I screamed at Jessica. Bonjour, bonjour! How was the flight? Gloria, the woman whom we were waiting for, kindly asked us in French and Spanish. It was OK but were really tired , I replied. We climbed into her Peugeot and headed to what our new home would be for the next year. I looked through the car window and saw the Beaux-Arts style buildings and the French traffic signs as we passed by. I couldnt believe my dream of living in France was actually becoming a reality. Somebody pinch me, I thought.

The idea of spending a sabbatical year in Tours, France, was originally my sisters. During that time she learned the language and travelled across Western Europe. I remember looking at her pictures and souvenirs collected from her travels. This is my friend Carla from Venezuela and this is Jimena from Mexico Cityoh! This is Tarek from Jordan and Pam from Calgary! she said to me. The way she expressed herself captivated me and only made me yearn for the same experiences.

My dream became my address Alejandra Cid Back in Tours, my sister lived with Gloria and her husband Yves Perroi, a French couple she met through our cousin who lived with them before. My sister became so close to the Perroi family that they came to my hometown in Chihuahua, Mexico, to meet my parents and travel through our home state. I was only thirteen years old when I met them. During those couple of weeks, Gloria used to tell me that she was looking forward to have me in her home and that my time spent in France would change my life. Little did I know, she was absolutely right.

Senior year came and while the rest of my high school friends were taking SATs, ACTs and all of those obnoxious college admission tests, I was taking passport photos and buying undercover belts. I managed to convince one of my best friends to come and join me in this great European adventure. The day finally came and my friend Jessica and I jittery boarded our transatlantic flight, for we didnt know what to expect once in Charles de Gaulle International Airport. I hope that people at the airport speak English, Jessica told me. I bet they do, its the international airport for one of the most visited places on Earth, I answered. How nave of me, just because I grew up in the Mexican border I assumed everyone in this planet knew how to speak English. In between simple English words and poor hand signs, we managed to communicate with the salesman and buy our one-way train ticket to Tours. We climbed in, took our seat and hoped for the best.

Tours is a charming, medium-size city located in central France. The rivers Cher and Loire surround the town, as well as the most astounding chateaux in the country are

My dream became my address Alejandra Cid nearby. Once in the city we were having our own little joie de vivre. We went to the Institute from Monday thru Friday. Our first class was grammar from 9:00 to 10:30 a.m., and then at 10:45 a.m. we had our phonetics class until noon. We had an hour lunch break and then came back for writing workshops until 3:00 p.m. After the last class was dismissed, we would go with our new friends to the closest creperie and head north towards the Loire River with our Nutella and banana crepe, just to hang out and enjoy the picturesque view. If we didnt feel like having an afternoon snack, we would go to Alexandras Bar on Place Plumereau, (Place Plum for us the locals) and drink an apricot flavored beer while people watching. This quarter is well known for its restaurants and bars on medieval timber-framed houses. It was THE place to see and been seen. And just as I always dreamed of, I spent my nights at Place Plum with my friends from all around the world. I had Sophie from Holland, Chris from Miami, Sara my fellow Mexican, Maria from Colombia and Nico from Ecuador. I am still in touch with these amazing people.

But not everything was picture perfect. Even though I didnt have difficulty adapting to a new culture and didnt miss my parents and friends that much (guilty), I did experience culture shock. For instance, I couldnt believe that most of the commercial shops were closed on Sundays, I mean, what do young people do in France during this day! Later on I found out they get together in family to have lunch and then go to a theatrical play or mass. I also couldnt believe that McDonalds, or McDo as the French called it, was the hot spot for teenagers to hang out. Another shocking moment was noticing the French culinary culture of having their salad after the main course and not as

My dream became my address Alejandra Cid an entre as we do in America. They eat backwards! I thought to myself, on the first dinner we shared with Gloria and Yves. Jessica and I also missed a couple of trains thanks to our Mexican habit of always being late. I learned the hard way that Europeans appreciate punctuality as much as they appreciate their afternoon espresso.

Living in France not also taught me how to speak fluently French and embrace its culture, but how to travel efficiently as well. Anytime Id go to a place, I packed only the essentials, meaning I wore the same jeans for three straight days and it didnt matter if they got itchy. I managed my way of riding the Parisian metro without buying a single pass. I became a master in finance administration as I managed to travel on a limited budget. We usually had one meal per day at fast food joints or in cheap restaurants; grab more fruits and muffins from the complimentary breakfast than it was allowed, and stayed at questionable hostels. Once in Rome we stayed at this really filthy hostel named Pink Floyd (you can imagine the quality of the place) that we put our clothes on top of the bed so we wouldnt touch the sheets. Living abroad also taught me to appreciate the little things in life; such as that relieving feeling of hearing the ATM cashing the money after a night of hard partying, enjoying a good sunny day in Tours when it rained 300 days a year, or savoring the fine delicacies of a fruit tartlet after a long day at the Institute. I would eat those treats as if it was the last meal Id ever had on my life. Then of course, I had a price to pay for stuffing my face with all kind of breads and sugars it left me with 17 pounds overweight! I still hold a grudge on France for not being able to get my figure back, but then again, my diet consisted merely on pastries and cheap 2-euro wine. I recall lying on my bed with my jeans down on my knees and Jessica would climb

My dream became my address Alejandra Cid upon me pulling the jeans up to my waist; once the jeans were at their place we would use a hair band to buckle the button. If that didnt work, I would surrender and just wear sweatpants for good sakes. On the other subject, I realized that the best wines are not the most expensive and exclusive ones, but rather those you like and can afford. There will always be a special place in my heart for all the local vineyards who provided me and my friends such fun times with only a couple of euros.

After that year of living happily and carefree in France, it was time to come back home. I felt nervous for I didnt know what the future had in hold for me and how would I find my parents, friends and hometown. Will they notice my personal growth? Will I have the same interests and conversations with my friends? Will I have the same freedom I had back in Tours? Was I more self-grounded and mature like my sister was when she returned from France? At least I thought I did. I wasnt ready to face the real world or to leave behind the friendships formed while away. But I knew it was time to use my knowledge and skills acquired during my sabbatical year in a grown-up world. Jumping into the unknown and taking the risk of moving abroad left me with nothing but lessons learned and unforgettable memories that helped me become into the woman I am today. My time spent in Tours was by far the most amazing and rewarding experience yet. Five years later and I still think about those days as if it was yesterday. The smells, the images and the noises still haunt me. Wherever I go and smell a creperie nearby, I think of the one I used to go in Place Plum where the owner looked like Dustin Hoffman; and whenever there is a foggy rainy day I treasure the moment where I walked

My dream became my address Alejandra Cid to the Institute under those weather conditions. I had a dream, and 13 Rue Lobin became my address.