The switch

I realized that on this last trip to Paris, I switched languages the minute I stepped foot on the plane. When the stewardess greeted me in French, suddenly my Italian was set aside. Even though I was still in Florence, I began speaking French. I picked up the in-flight magazine and read the articles in French, not English. When the stewardess came by to ask me what I wanted to drink, I told her in French.

Ever since I began this project in Paris a few months ago, Iíve been able to immerse myself in the French language. Initially, I didnít know how much of it would come back to me since it has been years since I used it on a daily basis. Funnily enough, my long stays in Paris have enabled me to retrieve my French.

Because I donít like mixing my languages, I really appreciate the stewardess greeting me in French when I embark in Florence. It feels natural and easy to me that I use that one moment to switch languages.

I know that no one will speak to me in Italian for a while except my marito, so itís easy to switch to French mode. No matter where I go in Paris, I speak French. Even at work, my colleagues speak to me only in French.

Whatís funny is that my switch to speak Italian usually doesnít happen until Iím off the plane and greeting my marito. Because no one speaks to me in Italian on the plane, the switch only takes place when someone addresses me in Italian.

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