David Rauch is a Northern Star employee studying abroad. “An American In Paris” will chronicle his studies and adventures in France.

I have less than a month and a half left in Paris.

If you read my last letter, you might think there is a sigh of relief or even joy. But truly, I think it is more the sound of growing concern — not at all happiness that the time here will end.

In fact, I think I am finally starting to get a hang of this place — finding the bakeries I love, the movie-houses that are cheap and nearby, the wine stores that are consistently helpful, the Chinese restaurant with the best dumplings, the cheapest bars with the loudest soccer matches blaring on the largest televisions and so on.

There is less wandering around blindly “adventuring.” And naturally so, Paris is getting colder.

The temperature drops, the scarves get bigger and when everyone faces the cold, they do so efficiently. They never saunter curiously, they walk with a purpose to where they want to go as fast as possible. It is a winter pace — a pace of experience — knowing shortcuts and metro layouts. It is the pace of someone who wants to get to as many places as possible before their time is up.

So if the first half of the trip was a flowing, filmic montage of everything in Paris in summer’s sunny heat, the second half is the paring down, the carving up of Paris into well-worn paths.

This is one of the benefits of Paris, the opportunity to find oneself. Views and preferences are reflected in various made-up windows and landscapes. That is certainly a characteristic of Paris — inevitably something will make itself appealing.

Maybe my trouble in the beginning was trying to make sense of the city — all of it — filling my time with impossible searches, questions and expectations so large, complicated and truly contradictory. And with so much rushing past, I could barely catch any of it in my fingers at all.

One could let it all stream past — watch the pretty colors float by for four short months — but Paris is a city that really demands some interaction and preference building. That is the foundation on which Paris was built.

It may be only be an internal dialogue, but the Parisian lifestyle is entirely hitched on the idea of cultural discourse and interaction. That explains a cinema culture that still centers around going to the theaters, the fact that most of the real reforms in Parisian society have been a result of giant public manifestations, how dinner with friends is a six-hour marathon and why the cafe life is almost always bustling.

However, I have had to make many decisions — not as a Parisian, but as an American in this bipolar city. I cannot stress how much studying abroad does not feel like being fully integrated into a society or a culture. That would take years and then some.

Studying abroad is also more than just a taste, it is not just a vacation. One is pulled in two directions, feeling the pull of split allegiances.

Sometimes I think, “I haven’t left my country forever, I want to return. There is no reason for me to shed my American heritage and customs for just four months.” I feel like I can’t just give up my American roots, even if I did want to. In fact, I think the French could use an American perspective sometimes.

However, studying abroad is also about opening up, being fully immersed in a new culture, letting it run through your veins. It’s the water, language, bread, air, sights, history and people.

The surprising part of a trip this long and this far away — as with all the others like it — is what kind of hybrid one becomes. It’s a combination of themselves, their home and their host home. It’s surprising that if you try, they come together. All the pulling has made you elastic.

And you fit better in your own.

au revoir,

David Rauch