Part 1
20th August 2013, a
day I will probably never forget. That was the day I took my first ever, long
awaited international flight. In September 2013 I was to begin my first year of
Masters at Toulouse School of Economics. Wandering alone on the airport, I did
not realize what was in store for me. My folks were just a few walls away and I
knew I could turn back and return if I wanted. But to live alone, independent
in a place where I know no one was something I really wanted to do. So this
opportunity was my key to break free and fly away. I was excited to discover a
new place, study new things, keen to meet new people and make new friends. The
thought that I was going away from home and probably will not be seeing my
family and friends for another year or two did cross my mind but the excitement
of travelling to France pushed it into the background. I was slightly anxious and
could sense butterflies in my stomach but the fact that I was leaving had not really
sunk in me.
International flights are
something we all middle class Indians long to fly. I was taking an Air France
carrier and was highly thrilled to board it. My fellow passenger was a middle aged French
lady who was kind enough to help me with my cabin luggage and seat-belt. In about thirty minutes my flight was ready to
take off. Looking out of the window I remember thinking about my teary eyed mom
and masis, unusually quiet dad and my uncle and cousin who were trying hard to
cheer them up. I was sure that my girl friends would burst into tears on their
way back. I remember thinking that I could even at that moment go back if I
wanted to, but I did nothing of that sort. The Captain indicated the priority take
off, within minutes the wheels were rolling and I could see the Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport left behind. I saw Mumbai from the skies; it is at
its best. You can see the hustling traffic on the streets, the skyscrapers and
the ghettos, the Bandra- Worli sea link and the shimmering lights across the
city.
Air France carrier does not have
the best seats; hence I woke up with a bad backache the next morning. My back pain
was forgotten only because of the fresh hot croissant served for breakfast. My
flight was to land at the Paris airport from where I had to take the next
flight to Toulouse. Getting out of the airplane at the Charles de Gaulle I was overwhelmed
by the sheer vastitude of the airport. Not only is it enormous in size but the
diverse range of people you see there is astounding. On my way to Porte A28, I
spotted habitual travelers well versed with the functioning of the airport,
noisy Asian tourists probably visiting Europe for the first time, cranky kids
bugging their parents for the treats displayed in the eateries and clueless
first timers like myself trying to put up a brave front. Here I was supposed to
meet another girl from Delhi and we were to travel together to Toulouse. She
was to arrive a little later so I treated myself a pain au chocolat and it was fire
crackers in my mouth. Dimple arrived and together we boarded our flight to
Toulouse. And in about exactly 1 hour 35 minutes I was about to begin my new
journey in Toulouse. The Blagnac Airport is much smaller and very different
than the Paris CDG. Suddenly I was surrounded by strangers who did not understand
my language and did not look like me. Probably now would the feeling sink in, I
thought to myself, but no. Getting down with Dimple and seeing Kartika (a PhD
student who received us) I still was not out of my comfort zone.
Toulouse at the first glance was
not exactly how I had pictured Europe to be but it was no less. This ville
rouge is a metropolis in Southwestern France. Known for its wine and sun, I
could also spot distinctly the unique architecture and the aesthetic grills and
facades of the buildings. After the mouth watering dal and rice lunch, Kartika took
us around the city, showed us where we could find food, trains, maps, bars etc
etc. The day ended on an exhausting note and I do not remember when I fell
asleep. Kartika left for India the next day and now Dimple and I were on our
own in this new city. The first step was
accomplished and I was proud of myself.
The second step was to search for
a house. Now this was quite an ordeal because my French skills were not really
up to the mark and Dimple’s were worse. We made ton of calls for appointments
and visits. It was nerve racking. But eventually after our share of kick and
blows we managed to get a couple of “rendez-vous”s. I would be lying if I said
I wasn't anxious. Growing up in my parent’s house, I had never visited apartments
before. I had no clue whatsoever of what I was to check when taking a house.
Dimple was equally oblivious. Armed with a map and our French skills, we roamed
around the city to get a decent accommodation. It was fun. We discovered that
Toulouse has artistic bridges over the river Garonne which flows across the
city. The “trademark” red bricks seemed
to change colour as the day passed. Most interestingly, the map of Toulouse and
the actual city were surprisingly the same. Now this may sound stupid, but
growing up in India I had never used a map before and moreover to find a map of
any Indian city with all the roads marked correctly? Eh, not happening! We
jumped with excitement seeing the “A Louer” (For Rent) boards on the buildings,
we treated ourselves to tempting French delights, we joked about our broken
French, grumbled if we didn't get the good offer and were terrified when weird
white men hit on us. That sums up my first few days away from home. Finally
after about 3 weeks of the arduous house hunt we found accommodation in a
student residence near school and on the same floor.
…..to be continued
