The First Time I Saw Paris

The first time I saw Paris I was arriving at my Parisian apartment. The driver dropped me off outside the door and I was tasked with finding my new home for he next three weeks. Before going to my apartment, I was taken to CEA for a brief orientation. In the orientation they gave me a booklet which had instruction to getting to my apartment, step by step. When I was dropped off at my apartment I completely forgot about the instructions pages. As I pressed the button to open the main door all I knew was that I was on the fourth floor. I was taught that the ground floor was zero, something very odd to me. And so I walked up to the Parisian fourth floor where there were four doors. Those four doors were not my apartment and now I had realized I was lost. I walked down to where I started and I found an older man with a beany and a zipped up jacket that was particularly short in height. I said hi and I pointed to my paper that had the address of the apartment but clearly the paper had poor instructions because the Parisian man could not seem to understand where I had to go either. So he begins talking to me in French and I could not understand at all what he was saying. This immediately scared me because I was lost late at night in a city where no one understood me. The man walked and talked to me to the same fourth floor that I went to but we could not find it. He attempted to open a random door then a young woman opened up and they began to talk in French. She seemed startled I’m assuming because someone was trying to open her door and she was not expecting anyone. They spoke briefly in French and I stood there watching them in awe. The beautiful language caught my attention. I could decode some of the words because they sounded like Spanish and some basic French words but I could not put a sentence together, at least not enough to understand what they were saying. The man walked me down stairs and it had appeared as if he had given up and was ready to let me by myself to find then but then he says four in French and he takes me to another set of stairs across the courtyard in the back and he points up. He says bon soir and I say merci beaucoup like four times because I was nervous but very grateful. Voila! At the top of the stairs was a single door to my new Parisian apartment and the start to my study abroad.

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