This too shall pass.

Did I ever tell you that it's hard to live in France?

It's easy to romanticize the idea of going abroad, living in a big city, becoming a local, and speaking the language like it was always been your own. When we travel we tend to remember the highlight moments from a trip. You know, the moments that give you butterflies and make you truly appreciate the place you've taken the time to discover. Those moments are powerful enough to make us forget the days when everything seems to go wrong. Well, I'm going to write down some rough moments I've had in France, so as not to forget them and to give everyone a more practical view of just how difficult moving abroad can be.

Remember that post about the French rednecks? They weren't really rednecks. Graulhet hosts an almost  70% immigrant population. The town itself has an unemployment rate of over 50%. If you combine those to statistics, you get a town with a failing economy and a large number of men aged 20-50 with nothing to do. Those men spent their time milling about in the small town square and occupying the one and only cafe in said square. Where was my bus stop? I think you can guess.

The bus from Toulouse got to Graulhet around 8, and I didn't have to start work until 8:45/9. In the afternoon I had to wait almost two hours, alone, with lots of leering eyes searching out the only young woman in the square. I also had to walk through town multiple times in one day to transfer between the three schools where I was employed.

The situation was not ideal, safe, or practical. After just one day of visiting Graulhet by myself, I decided that it would be better for me to ask for a new position. I was notified of an opening in three schools in Toulouse just this morning. Depending on how my meeting goes this afternoon I will either stay in Toulouse or return home to the states.

I feel cheated. Maybe the administration thought I may just be silly enough to convince myself into teaching in a town that everyone tells me is not safe for a young American. After that first day in Graulhet, I took the first bus I found to a bigger town. The bus driver I'd had that morning saw me and stopped. He look concerned and asked me why I wasn't waiting in Graulhet. I told him that I was so uncomfortable that I had to leave. He nodded with an understanding look and assured me that another bus would be along soon.

The same afternoon, we were in a boutique looking around and chatting with the sales lady. She discovered I was teaching in Graulhet. Direct quote from her: "Graulhet is no place for young ladies."

In addition to this whole situation, I still have yet to set up a bank account. It's like French banks don't want your money. You need I.D., proof of work, and proof of residence- this one is my problem because they want a phone/electricity/water bill, all of which are included in my apartment price. If you don't have a bank account you can't get a phone. You can't get a long term bus pass, which I would've needed to get to Graulhet. Your hands are tied.

There are other assistants in this program who still have no housing. Some have French host families who have turned a cold shoulder their way. Still others can't access their bank accounts. Everyone still seems hopeful that everything will be better, though, because we all still want that dream life in France.

Although I studied abroad in Tours, I forgot about the love/hate relationship I had with France. I remember the good moments. The cities, people, culture, and food are so beautiful, but the administration and their webs of red tape are endlessly infuriating. I still love this country. However, I think it's good to have some perspective and realize that while the French do so many things well, there are many a conundrum with everyday processes and bureaucratic regulations.

My next few posts will be less pessimistic and more about the butterfly moments I've had thus far. Promise.