For our last weekend in France, my group spent our time on the West coast, in a small town called Saint Gilles. This time was spent relaxing and soaking in our last trip together, but also reflecting on everything we have done thus far. Every trip, big or small, is soaked into my mind through memories and photos. This trip, specifically, tested me on my patience and showed me the reality of traveling. 

Going from Paris to the west coast is a pretty simple journey. Take the TGV (France’s high-speed national train system) out to the west coast and from there, take a smaller regional train to the destination. Or it should be. On Thursday night, our train left as expected and seemed to go on without issue until the train stopped. My friends and I thought it was a normal stop along the way, until the police boarded our cars and told us all to evacuate. Apparently, there had been an unknown substance released in the bathroom of one of the cars, that had caused 15 passengers to experience respiratory distress. They called the local fire department of the tiny town we were in, who had to prepare for a hazmat situation in order to figure out what the substance was. All 1,200 passengers were told to enter a gymnasium in the area or the train station we had arrived at. For the next 7 hours, we sat in the train station awaiting a new train or a response from the fire department. To make matters worse, it was cold and pouring the entire time we were stuck there. After the 7 hour waiting period, they still did not know what the substance was or how it got there. They ended up locking the train car the substance had contaminated and putting us back on the train out west. Once we arrived, we had missed our regional train to our town. Furthermore, we had to take an hour and a half taxi to the town, paid for by the French government. On our journey, we witnessed a car set on fire, but eventually reached the town. That night, we did not sleep until around 6:15 am. That being said, the rest of the trip was enjoyable and relaxing. 

This encounter on the train and my experience in Mallorca definitely helped me to see the reality behind the wanderlust of traveling. The truth is: sometimes the journey does not go smoothly. But the bumps in the road are real and important, and always end up being a good story to tell. 

Amongst the craziness of traveling, there is always the regularity of my internship. Up to this point, I have felt that I am succeeding in my internship, according to the French normalities of professional success. Unlike the United States’ standards of professional success, the French value a good work-life balance and take their free time seriously. They do not shy away from vacations and small trips throughout the course of the year, and look forward to spending time with their families after a day at work. That being said, they do work hard while at work, and are often consumed with meetings and different projects throughout the day. In my internship specifically, my supervisors have always shown excitement about the trips I have told them I am going on, showing that my happiness and experience is important to them. However, they also value my work ethic and production levels when I am working, and make sure to keep me busy and focused. The emphasis on working to live has been a nice shift compared to the US culture of living to work. My time at work is valued and never goes to waste, yet my time away from work is also respected and accepted in the same way. This construction of success and work life is one of my favorite aspects of working in France. Although my advancements in the French language and my engagement in the culture are also fulfilling, the ability to work productively while simultaneously making the most of my time in Europe is something I am very grateful for. While I am excited to go back to the US and work in a culture I am familiar with, I am also looking forward to a time where I can work in Europe full time. À toute à l’heure!