Learning around the world

Jordyn Smith, Class of 2026, shares her reflections on studying at the University of Chicago John W. Boyer Center in Paris during the fall of 2024. Jordyn is a third-year in the College majoring in Global Studies on the Political Economy track and pursuing a Media Arts and Design minor. On campus, she writes for Firebird, the college’s music magazine, and is a member of the student-run conversational podcast, Kinda Sorta Brown.

I arrived at Hartsfield-Jackson around 1:45 in the afternoon on October 2nd. I had three suitcases, two books I told myself I’d start reading on my flight, and a racing mind. It’s not like I wasn’t prepared for the next 10 weeks I was going to spend in Paris—I spent many hours watching girls my age brave enough to film in public, documenting every day of their study abroad experience on YouTube and I had a notes app full of recommendations from friends. Still, I could not wrap my head around what my time would be like. A few hours later I boarded my flight and let my mind wander until visions of me in front of the Eiffel Tower and quaint cafes lulled me to sleep.

Twenty-four hours later, I was fully settled in my room at Cité Internationale Universitaire de Paris and sleeping off my travel before orientations and classes began. Over the next four days, I got acquainted with public transportation and visited sites I had only ever seen online. Once classes started, I quickly fell into a routine consisting of an 8:00 AM wake-up, a 9:03 tram, two courses—laden with readings on Montaigne and French worksheets, but leaving just enough time in between to try new restaurants—and a free afternoon after 3:15.

I spent those first few afternoons unsure of what to do, usually returning to my room to finish my homework. I was hindered by “too’s”; I was too ashamed to test out the French my month-long Duolingo streak equipped me with, too nervous to ask my peers what they were doing after class, and too scared to go places alone. Thankfully, it only took me a few days to realize my time in Paris was too short for me to waste valuable free time.

Over the next nine weeks, I explored the city to the best of my ability. I enjoyed escargot and tête de moine. I let an ad that caught my eye in the metro station guide me to Jeu de Paume, an art center that I exited with postcards, magnets, and a new favorite photographer. I bought gifts for my friends and family at Christmas markets. I wandered streets I was curious about, entering storefronts that piqued my interest. Releasing my inhibitions led me to amazing places, and surprisingly, amazing people.

One of these people was a young caissière at the boulangerie on Rue du Chevaleret who, by the end of my trip, could finish my lunch order for me. Although she corrected my pronunciation the first time I stopped there, we shared many laughs as my French slowly improved and I grew attached to their raspberry tarts, refusing to end my school day without one.

Boulevard Jourdan, the street I called home for 10 weeks, also houses Le Soleil, a Mediterranean restaurant with one of the best chicken shawarma wraps I’ve ever had and an extremely kind staff. Mustafa was always behind the counter when I went and gently prompted me to order in French, making “Je voudrais un sandwich shawarma poulet, s’il vous plait,” one of the first full sentences I could say. He’d even wave hello whenever he saw me through the window.

Magdalena and Camille, my French teacher and conversation assistant, respectively, not only helped me learn the language but revealed some hidden gems of Paris. Magdalena gave recommendations and assignments that guided us to local markets and restaurants. Camille introduced us to other French college students and bought us her favorite cheese, which we enjoyed in a beautiful garden tucked away in the 3rd arrondissement.

Through these interactions, I was able to ease into life in Paris and gain cultural understanding and appreciation for the city. Although I didn’t dare miss the grandeur of the Louvre and shopping in Le Marais, I found the more local sites, and the people I encountered at them made Paris feel less like a postcard and more like a home.