I have been studying French since I was a little kid. I thought I was decently good at it… until I arrived at the airport in Paris. I had collected my bags and left customs. I was so excited to finally be studying abroad. It felt like I had been planning for it forever and that it would never actually happen.

My last stop at the airport was currency exchange. I had no idea what was beyond the doors of the airport, but was eager to find out. I knew I couldn’t start my adventure until I had money. I walked up to the exchange window, ready to use the French I practiced and studies for so many years.

I asked to exchange my money in what I thought was OK French. The man behind the window looked at me and responded. After he was done talking, I realized I had no idea what he had said. Was it a question? Was it a statement? What did he want from me? I asked him to repeat it. He did. I only understood one word; I knew he said “passport.” I dug through my bag and pulled out my passport, handing it to him.

I was shocked! I could barely understand what we was saying through the checkout window. He spoke way faster than the audios we had listened to in classes. It was so different to listen to a native French speaker.