Lyon: Lights, food, lizards…oh my!
Our group arrived in Lyon early on Saturday morning. As we left the airport, we passed by a sign welcoming us to the city that read, Lyon: Lumiéres et Gastronomie. “Hmm…a city of light and food?”, I thought to myself, “Wow, either Lyon needs to get a better marketing team, or my French translations need some work.” Turns out, it was the latter issue. “Lumiéres et Gastronomie” actually translates to “City lights and gastronomy”, which is much more sophisticated-sounding than what I originally thought was only an advertisement for electricity and sustenance.
The rest of the drive was absolutely beautiful, as spending the majority of my adult-life in large, metropolitan areas meant that I had fallen out of touch with what made smaller cities so enjoyable. While Lyon is still the third biggest city in France, the walkability and ease of transportation meant that within only a few hours, the city felt extremely familiar and manageable.
Orientation consisted of walking around the city to gain our bearings. There’s nothing quite as humbling as exploring a place and not being able to speak to, argue with, or communicate with the general population. Instead of engaging in small talk or witty banter with strangers, I found myself instead reacting to every interaction with a simple smile. This was not due to my sunny disposition and well-rested demeanor after a 10-hour long flight, but mostly because I felt absolutely helpless in most situations. A stranger says something to me while waiting in the line for the bathroom? Smile, and just turn away quickly. A cashier? Smile, hand over my credit card, and hope that croissant was only €2 and not €200. It was exhausting! First thing on the agenda? Learn how to joke around in French.
We also visited the “Musée des Confluences”, which was located at the— you guessed it!— confluence of the Rhône and Saône rivers. Lauded as France’s own Guggenheim, I spent the day learning the French translations of things such as “origin of species”, “mummification”, and “Cleopatra of Thea ruthlessly poisoned her own brother in 44 B.C.E. to regain the Egyptian throne.”
I ended my first day feeling relatively successful, as I had also set up a local phone plan by speaking entirely in French with the salesperson. But in the middle of WhatsApp-ing all my friends to brag about my growing bilingual abilities, the data was cut off. Turns out there was a misunderstanding at the store, and I had only loaded €5 on my phone, instead of the €20 I intended. So tomorrow, along with relearning how to count in French, back to the store I go.
