Don't Talk to Strangers?

Bonjour, toutlemonde!

Greetings from the beautiful and sunny (although, not anymore, because it's dark out...) Montpellier! I think that I am acclimating faster than I thought (we'll see about how I feel when classes start..). True to my word, I have been trying to act outside of myself and do things that scare me a little and force me to take chances. They've all been worth it thus far!

Peur du jour: 2 Janvier 2012-Asking a question to a stranger 


Okay, so I was still in Chicago when I did this. I like to think of myself as pretty outgoing but I think I actually have this innate fear of bothering and annoying other people, so I usually keep to myself with strangers and people I've just met. But just before my 5:00 pm departure from Chicago to Paris, I decided to take one last trip to the bathroom before I attempted to sleep for the 7 hour flight. When I got out they had already started boarding and I hesitated about whether it was necessary to ask a person near me who they had already called. I decided to approach a friendly looking stranger in a red jacket and he said (in a French accent) that he wasn't sure. We exchanged a few comments and that was the end of it.

So when I figured out the boarding situation and got on the plane (in my business class, emergency exit row with lots of leg room-- Thanks again, Dad!) the Frenchman in the red jacket says "you've got to be kidding! I have the seat right next to you!" We then had one of those conversations that you can only have on an airplane where you basically share the nutshell of your life story. It turns out that he is from Dijon and was visiting his fiancé from Kentucky who he met while she studied abroad there.  We talked about France and marriage visas (she is moving to France because they wanted to avoid the red tape that is the American visa process--Shout out to Lauren and Dawid!) and what I was studying and what he had studied and transportation in France. When I said the thing I was most worried about was getting from the airport to the train station, he-- who must have been mon ange gaurdien-- offered to take me there. Just like that, the most stressful part of my journey was eliminated. We went to the baggage claim, through customs, and to the Gare Charles de Gaulle where he showed me how to stamp my ticket before I got on the train.

I never actually asked his name and I don't feel like I properly thanked him, but he was a huge help in my journey. God works in mysterious and wonderful ways.