Cape teen adjusting to French surroundings

TRIAUCOURT en'ARGONNE, FRANCE--The one week I've been here, situations have presented themselves quite the contrary of how I expected they would happen. But, that is what happens when one travels.

My initial flight plan was to fly from St. Louis to Chicago, from Chicago to Dulles International, from Dulles to Charles d'Gaulle in Paris. Thunderstorms in the Great Lakes region cancelled my flight to O'Hare, so I switched airlines and flew directly to Dulles.

My bags, however, didn't. They were to follow me to Paris, if it weren't for the person at the airline desk where I checked my bags who flipped two numbers on my flight (changed No. 914 to No. 941), thereby nullifying any chance that I would see my bags at the baggage claim.

The week that preceded the receipt of my luggage -- which did arrive in one piece -- plodded along, mimicking that of one of the cooked l'escargots I ate my first night in France.

How ironic.

Even with the four years of high school and one semester of college level French, the rapid conversations -- especially during the meals -- between people who have been speaking this language for their entire lives mixed with jet lag really sent me reeling for something familiar.

For this, I quote from my journal: "Mon Aug. 26: 7ish (PM) This is my first time feeling complete and utter boredom É When I used to be bored, the good ol' 'Boob-Tube' never let me down. But in this strange land, you tend to be let down quite a bit [reference to my luggage situation]. Yes, even the ever-faithful 'Stupid Box' has dropped the ball this time. Sure it's the same, good, satirical syndicated sitcoms of America, but the hasty voiceovers take away from the show's homely appeal."

My journal has been my only true English companion, though many thoughtful French teenagers have made steps to make me feel more included by attempting a conversation in English. Most of the teens here can speak fairly decent English, much unlike their American counterparts who sometimes have a problem with their own language.

The school year here starts early in September (the 3rd to be exact; the same day as Cape Public Schools if my memory serves me) and ends in mid-June. I have no apprehensions of attending the lycée. French school systems are different from American schools in that students in France choose a career path and take only two or three classes a year specific to that career. In America, general classes are mixed in and offered as electives. I am enrolled in an English class (yeah!) and an art class for the entire school year.

This adventure is sure to be quite an experience, and I'm happy to share it with all of you, so until next month,

A tout à l'heure.

Dane Lincoln is studying in France as part of a Rotary exchange program. He is a graduate of Central High School.