The other day I watched The Wizard of Oz again for the first time in years and it occurred to me that, in a way, I’m living in Oz. I live in a place that’s sometimes magical – and mysterious – with people who  are very different from me. They’ve accepted me into their world, but it’s true that there’s no place like home – corny as that sounds. It does get lonely sometimes, not from a lack of company but from feeling “other.” I live in the periphery of French life even though I’m immersed in it every day. It’s not always easy. I juggle two cultures that overlap but are often worlds apart. We speak English at home but French when we go out. I teach English every day but before the lesson I speak French. Then I push an invisible button and switch to English for the lesson – then switch back to French when it’s over. When we go out we eat French food but sometimes I really crave a burger. I finally found a place that has big sloppy burgers like the kind I used to like – made by another expat of course – and served with thick cut fries. I’ve learned the polite, hierarchical way of dealing with people but I’ve also learned to be pretty damn rude. It’s a constant emotional and cultural juggling act. I’ve become two people. I juggle my personality to suit the moment. It’s a bit schizo – but that’s the way it is.

Yet sometimes I feel more American than when I lived in America. Maybe that’s a natural reaction when living in a foreign country. Or it could be that because people here notice that I'm American - and make certain assumptions about me - I become selfconscious. And I hang on to what I know. Then I try to figure out this new “old” world. I used to take a lot of things for granted that I miss now. I miss how easy it was to do things, to innovate and try something new. Here some things take time – way too much time. You have to go through channels. Tradition is very important – sacrosanct in some areas – as is history. I like the historical part and I’ve met some French people who have told me a lot about their family traditions, French history, art, and other topics that are fascinating. But I still feel homesick once in a while and it creeps up on me in subtle ways. When I get that homesicky feeling I often go to an English bookstore to catch up on news, magazines and hang around other expats wandering through the aisles. I watch expats in restaurents and remember how I felt when I first got here. Another thing I do is watch the international news. Back in the States I never used to watch the news. Now I watch everything, including topics that didn’t interest me before. I watch news programs, talk shows, and specials all the time and read more American news sites than I ever did when I lived there. A lot of Americans live in Paris – some through work, some by choice. There are also several expat groups here that meet all the time. We meet at bars, plan outings, and stay in contact. There’s even an expat website that lists expats from all over the world. We talk, debate, complain, and share our experiences. We need to do that – it’s our oxygen. We live between worlds until we decide at some point to go back to our old world or stay here. In the meantime, this Oz is one incredible journey. Dorothy had it easy.