Last week I left Toulouse, bringing my year abroad to a
close. My parents came to pick me up, loaded all my belongings into the car (which
seem to have multiplied tenfold since I arrived nine months ago) and off we
went.
Simple? Far from it. Leaving
Toulouse was just like many of my experiences in the city: emotional, slightly
late, with organisational skills leaving much to be desired. And like a true
adopted Toulousaine, quite a lot of
this was my own fault. I’d failed to tell my parents there was a market every
Friday in the square directly behind my apartment. This meant the ‘loading bays’
were in use as a temporary carpark for the morning. My parents arrived at 11am,
prime market time. And just to make things a little more challenging, the
couple two floors up had picked 11am Friday as their time to move out as well
(cue what I call ‘lift wars’, or ‘competition-to-see-who-can-monopolise-the-lift-most-successfully’).
After a typically Franglais goodbye to my flatmate (involving la bise (très français) AND a hug (really not French)) a good hour
after they arrived my parents and I set off on the long drive back to England.
So does that mean adieu
to Toulouse? Definitely not, I’d love to go back! Au revoir, then? Hopefully.
Provided I don’t have the dreaded law rattrapage
(from what I understand, a 3.5 hour long one-size-fits-all resit exam in which students choose which
questions to answer depending on which subjects they need to retake – eeewww)!
So for now (I hope), my hurried goodbye will have to do.
If that’s the case, at least I can say it was befitting.
For me, Toulouse was a city of last-minutes, an often chaotic place under the
rule of a very un-British (and as I learned un-German, probably un-lots-of-places) attitude towards
organisation. But I’m not complaining. Spending a year there has made me re-evaluate
what I value, what I like and don’t like, and how I see France, Europe, and
perhaps the world. It has made me realise how different one’s life experience
can be, even when compared to another country which on paper shares many
similarities with my own.
Toulouse makes me realise there is much more to somewhere than
immediately meets the eye. And that the eye in question was often concealed
behind the rose-tinted spectacles of a tourist (‘authentic’ restaurants which
play only British artists as background music, employ waiters who speak fluent
English and have an entirely English clientele? Since Toulouse, La Belle France has lost a little of its
magic sparkle I’m afraid…).
Cliché as it may
sound, living in Toulouse for nine months has helped me grow as a person in so
many ways: resilience in unfamiliar situations, understanding cultural differences
and adapting to meet expectations are just three of the skills I’ve improved in
order to make the most of my time in the city. And I’m sure these abilities
will prove valuable for life.
I think now’s the time to say un grand merci to everyone who has helped make my time in Toulouse
so memorable and above all enjoyable! I wish you all the best and hope to see some of you
again soon!
Voilà. I’ve not
written half as many posts as I had planned, mais c’est la vie je suppose ;) Over the coming weeks I will try
and find time to write a bit more about my experiences. In the meantime, if you
have any questions about living as an exchange student in Toulouse just leave a
comment below and I’ll do my best to answer!
Bisous !
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