A language all to myself

Transatlantic ExchangeIt seems very foreign to me that in less than a week I will speak, think, and write in only one language. I will no longer say words in the wrong language, have to ask myself, “Is that a word?” or have to ponder which language is appropriate for which person. I will also never have to be embarrassed of my accent or translate for friends. As much as I have struggled with my linguistic confusion, I have also really enjoyed it. It is always interesting to see in which ways my brain will get confused, which franglicisms have become rooted in my subconscious. I have also enjoyed watching the confused and surprised look on French people’s faces when the loud American actually speaks good French. Somehow, a world without linguistic crises just seems a bit boring. No more new expressions and swear words, no explaining the bizarre euphemisms and slang used by American teenagers (one French friend was particularly amused by “tots def”). And where is the adventure if you always know what you want to say and how to say it?
But at the same time, I am excited to go back to New York and finally have a secret language. Even though I am a foreigner in France, speaking my native tongue in no way distinguishes me from the crowd or provides me with any amount of privacy. In fact, I find it to be just the opposite. If I am speaking English in public, the French will assume that I am just one the billions of tourists who invade their city on a daily basis, and if they are rude, vulgar people, will proceed to talk about me or taunt me in French assuming that I could never understand. It is one unfortunate fact about Paris that I will definitely not miss, although responding in French and walking away can be very satisfying. But back in New York, I will finally have the experience of being able to talk openly and in relative privacy. Although, New York is full of French people, so a bit of caution is wise. I have often enjoyed listening to French tourists in public places like the Met because they assume that no one will understand, especially because they can spot other Frenchies from a mile away.
Because I am petrified of losing my French, I am hoping to find some French friends or at least a language exchanger partner in the city, but this may prove to be a rather difficult task. In France, there is a large community of Americans, of which I am currently a member, who associate with each other, attend each other’s parties, seek out each other’s company, and generally frequent the same places. In New York, there is a secret underground network of French expats who cling together as well. If I am successful in my infiltration, I will have access to nearly unlimited opportunities to practice my French. But if the expats are as reserved and difficult to befriend as the resident French, I may never find someone to talk to me.