Montpellier Blog, Chapter 1: The Heart Has Grown Fonder
I have often heard the saying that “distance makes the heart grow fonder,” but I never believed in it. I guess it would be more accurate to say that I simply didn’t agree with it because I had never felt that way. For me, distance meant time, and time meant the healing of wounds and the loss of memories, both good and bad. Recently, however, I have begun to change my mind. It has now been almost two years since I studied abroad in Montpellier, France. As a French & Francophone Studies minor from William & Mary, I spent the fall semester of 2018 in the charming southern city of Montpellier in order to immerse myself in the language, hoping to make a great deal of progress in it. I was also motivated by my love for the beauty and novelty offered by western Europe and the chance to learn more about other cultures and make international friends.
Despite my idealistic hopes, it was quite a difficult semester. For one, my host family and I didn’t see eye-to-eye on meals: they ate much less than I did, and much later, which served to exacerbate my health issues. Though cordial, the husband and son were aloof, and the mother often domineering — a combination of factors which often encouraged me to keep to myself, especially with the language and cultural barrier that I perceived between us. Though I lacked a fair bit of vocabulary and wasn’t fluent in slang, I knew plenty of French to make my opinions and needs clear, but hesitated to do so since I felt that they weren’t desired. During my stay, the feeling of not being wanted or at home in my host family’s house colored my experience to an unfortunate degree. In addition, I naively decided to start learning Latin while abroad. As a Classics major, I was considering pursuing graduate school in the field, in which case I would need to know both Latin and Greek. Beginner language courses being offered only in the fall, I decided that I must start regardless of where I did so. And so began my journey with Latin — in French.
That is not to say that I didn’t enjoy Latin: I did, and learning it from the French perspective made it both easier and harder (easier when it came to vocabulary, harder when it involved complex conjugations and translation). Out of all my classes, my Latin professor was the most personable and had a cheerful sense of humor, and my friendliness was reciprocated and resulted in a genuine French friend. However, as anyone who has learned a second language in the academic setting knows, it is a lot of work. And so I was kept very busy with school — much busier than I wished, since I dreamed of traveling, relaxing in cafés, and generally soaking up the experience of living in a French city. Once I left, I was frustrated with myself for having continued to put school first, no matter what, and lost the chance to better engage with my surroundings. I should have gone to a café every weekend, tried a new restaurant every week, and eaten tarte citron and chocolate mousse multiple times a month. But taking six classes — one for Anglophone students, but the rest being curriculum for the native French students seeking their own Classics degrees — at the Université Paul-Valéry Montpellier III was quite exhausting. Being in class was more work because listening to lectures and taking notes, all in French, was mentally taxing. Just paying attention was often an exertion. But, like all challenges, this one helped me grow. I certainly improved my French, and I proved to myself that I was capable of overcoming uncomfortable and difficult situations. I also learned to laugh at myself and not worry so much about making mistakes — even when I wrote on my final exam that the city of Rome melted (fondue) rather than was founded (fondée). Not only did the city collapse as soon as it began, but it suffered the most horrifying fate… I don’t think my professor or I will be likely to forget that one any time soon. (In my defense, it was my last exam of many, and I was clearly very tired.)
For these reasons, my time in Montpellier ended with fatigue and regret. I thought about all the could have’s and should have’s rather than focusing on the privileges and blessings. Now, however, the heart has truly grown fonder. Looking back, the mistakes I made provide humorous memories, and the loneliness of being a foreigner helped me greater appreciate my friends and empathize with those who don’t feel they belong. The hard work is a done deal, so no point in wishing it had been sacrificed for travel; the difficult host family no longer seems so difficult, and I actually think of them with a fondness — a sort of detached forgiveness — that I was unable to develop while in their presence. Even though I didn’t travel as much as the other exchange students, I still accumulated an unforgettable treasure of experiences, insights, and memories. They form a special chapter in my life, a chapter that forced me to grow into a more patient, open-minded, and mature individual.
