In class, the other students are Parisian teenagers, i.e. half your size.

You try to blend in, but you can't hide your excitement.
You know you're speaking at least two octaves above everyone else.
And people always ask why you look so happy.
They expect you to drink your coffee black every morning.

And don't quite get your American customs at dinner.

Plus you probably eat twice as much as they do.
Boarding the night bus by yourself is slightly traumatic.

And sometimes mysterious liquids drip on you in the metro.
But getting a taxi on a Saturday night is impossible.
You have no idea how European devices work.
So sometimes you feel dumb.
You feel especially bad when you break things in your host family's apartment.

Despite your effort, sometimes people don't quite understand you.
