Dear Bob (my YEO),

I'm writing you today what is most likely to be my last letter from France. With less than three weeks left, I'm being confronted with such a whirlwind of emotions that I wish I could just scream for it all to stop for a few minutes. It seems that every hour there's someone who's reminding me of my now limited time in this country that I've come to love and frankly it's depressing. I'm practically forced to count the days and I don't want to do that. I remember when I'd only been here for three weeks, how quickly the time passed, and I know that now I have a life here with friends, family and a home, that flight back will be here before I know it.

Everyone always asks me the same question: "How do you feel about going back?". It doesn't sound very complicated, but in reality nothing is more so. I always say that I'm very excited to see my family and friends back home, but at the same time I'm not looking forward to leaving France. If I could just transport everyone I know in the States to my little town in Brittany, life would be just perfect! But it doesn't work that way. I have to go back and reintegrate myself into the place I call home while leaving a wonderful home I've made here in the process.

I don't feel the same coming back as I did going. On my departure I was looking forward to embracing a new lifestyle and discovering a whole new world and culture. Returning, I know what lies ahead and can already predict what I'm going to deeply miss about my way of life here that I just won't have in the U.S. It's the smallest things that make the most difference: eating at the table around a home cooked meal every night, walking to school each morning with medieval buildings on every corner, good French bread that's nice and crusty on the outside but soft on the inside, driving past bilingual road signs with French and the native Breton language on them, going to the market on Friday mornings and seeing vendors of cheeses, meats, vegetables, jewelry, crepes, and everything imaginable there. I guess it seems as if I'm going on and on here, but for me I've only named a few of the things that make my life in Ploërmel so wonderful.

At outbound camp almost a year ago (wow!), they warned us we would change and that it would be hard, but I didn't expect it to be like this. Physically I've changed. While we were warned that we would most likely gain weight while we were abroad (especially us girls), I've lost over twenty pounds since leaving the states. By the way, that's without dieting WHILE eating plenty of rich French cheeses, lots of good bread, and let's not forget Brittany's famous caramels made from salted butter. On the other hand, I tend to eat less here, but I eat well and I eat slowly. I get more exercise as well. My plans for my immediate and even distant future have completely changed from my expectations last August. I'm going to OU next semester (Boomer Sooner!) instead of an out-of-state university on the other side of the country. I'm studying Spanish next year, a language that was not in the slightest way attractive to me before. And although I knew I wanted to go into an international-type field before, my year abroad has confirmed my decision to pursue a career as an interpreter.

One of the hardest things about going back is leaving all the amazing people I've met along the way. I've had four wonderful host families who welcomed me into their homes for two or three months each. Every time I go to visit a previous family, I feel at home as soon as I walk through the door. I've made more friends than I can count at school. There are the people from my class that I'm with every day, but I've also made friends with a group of theatre girls while participating in the school play. I've met people in my community whether through host parents, siblings, or the local choir I sang with nearly all year. I've grown used to walking into a shop or café, running into someone I know and giving the French 'bisous' (kiss) on each cheek. Thanks to all the amazing Rotary weekends, I've also met students from all over the world, some of which I've grown very close to and don't know if I'll ever see again. And while I definitely plan on coming back to France to visit, maybe even to live later on, it's going to be a very long time—longer than my ten month exchange—before I get to see all of these people I've come to know and love.

If I could give one piece of advice to the upcoming outbounds, it would be to go without any expectations or pre-conceived notions of your country or your exchange and to take advantage of every moment that you have. One of the mistakes I made coming into France was expecting to have the year of a lifetime in a sort of European paradise. Although I have had an amazing year, I know I would have enjoyed it more if I'd come with a more open attitude. If you're not pre-occupied waiting for a life-changing experience, you'll actually take the time to enjoy and discover what's around you and you won't be disappointed when your previous ideas aren't the reality. Also, make an effort to get to know people. If you don't try to communicate with others, they won't do so with you. It's up to you to reach out. I guess that makes three pieces of advice in all, but you'll forgive me I'm sure!

Finally I just want to thank Rotary for giving me this wonderful opportunity this year. Technically I was a few months too old for exchange and you didn't have to let me go, but you did and I am forever grateful. Rotary is such an incredible organization, one that I hope to be active with for some time to come and not just related to Youth Exchange. There's such a deep and profound kindness in the heart of this community and network of Rotarians that I just cannot help wanting to continue to be apart of it.

Much love and best wishes for next year's outbounds. A bientôt! (See you soon!)

Lauren