My First Day Part 2

So I sheepishly collected my suitcase from the rack and made my way off the train.  I remember the air smelling different, and it was much sunnier than in London.  Instantly, people were speaking French.  I was like, "what the hey..." For some reason, I forgot that I was going to a country where they spoke a different language.  Weird, I know.

The first thing I needed to do was get cash from the ATM.  I joined a line and figured out how to work the machine.  The instructions were in French, of course.  I kind of aimlessly wandered around the station for about five minutes.  I wanted to make sure I was leaving from the correct exit, and I wanted to be able to get a cab.  I had written the address of my school on a sheet of a paper on the train because I wanted to be sure the cab driver knew where he was going.

I proceeded to the line of people waiting for cabs.  I had been warned at orientation to only take the cabs that lined up at the "taxi" stands.  As I was waiting for a cab, I saw a homeless person begging for money.  After spending spring break in Italy during high school, I wasn't that thrown off by all the beggars.  However, I did think it was a bit desperate to pick up a lit, unfinished cigarette off the ground.  He then smoked it and continued begging.  Ah, France.

After about 10 minutes, I snagged a cab and handed the driver the slip of paper with the address.  He helped me with my bag and took me to my school.  It was awesome just looking at all the buildings around Paris.  I'll never forget the first time I saw the Bastille (now I see it nearly everyday).  The sun was shining, and there were at least 100 cars whizzing around the Bastille.  It reaffirmed the fact that I have absolutely no interest in driving in Paris. There were no lines on the cobblestone street.  Cars weaved back and forth without turn signals.  It was crazy.

Once I got to ACCENT (my program provider), my cab driver asked for more than was on the meter. At the time, I thought he was trying to scam me/knew I was an American.  I gave him like a 16 euros for a 15.80 euro charge.  Later, I realized the meter didn't include the charge for my bags... So I was a complete dick and tipped him basically nothing for helping me with my bags. I wouldn't blame him if he hated Americans a little more after driving me.  Anyway, I had a minor panic because I forgot you had to walk down a courtyard to get to my building.  It looked like my building didn't exist.  I figured it out and lugged my over-sized suitcase and backpack to door.