Having been in Strasbourg for nearly a month, I’ve recently found myself wondering when I will stop feeling like a tourist.

I began thinking about this question this weekend while waiting to meet a friend outside Strasbourg’s famous cathedral, at the heart of the city’s tourist area. Around me was a ring of crowded shops selling postcards, key chains and purses emblazoned with “Strasbourg!” in red and white letters.

Out of the blue, a woman with a backpack and a thick Northern European accent approached me. After politely asking if I spoke English, she inquired about the visiting hours of the cathedral, which I explained to her. I realize now that she probably approached me because she’d overheard me speaking English in my loud American voice. But before realizing this, I had a moment of euphoria — she thought I was a local!

The brief encounter got me wondering about what it means to be a tourist versus a local, and whether I fit in either category.

On the local side of the scales, I’ve more or less settled into daily life in Strasbourg. I have my favorite cafe, bookstore and grocery store — by grocery store, I mean the section of the gas station where they sell wine and cookies. I’ve memorized the order of the tram stops in my area and finally mastered the art of making coffee at my host family’s house. The fact that almost nothing is open on Sundays no longer seems strange.

But there are also plenty of ways in which I still feel like a foreigner here. Earlier on the same day that the tourist had asked me for help, I’d bought two postcards. The language barrier also continues to pose problems. Sure, I can dash off a respectable essay on Verlaine in French with the help of WordReference.com, but a few days ago I accidently ordered a mug of tea in a bar when I’d meant to get wine.

When this method of deciding whether I still counted as a tourist reached no conclusion, I changed tactics. I tried to decide whether I was still a tourist in Strasbourg by considering whether the city had changed me. If I brought back European habits as well as souvenirs, would that make me almost a local?

I already know I’ll miss several things about life abroad when I return home this summer. I’ll miss having fresh bread and pastries within walking distance at any given moment. I’ve also gotten hooked on Strasbourg’s open-air markets — where you can buy everything from used paperbacks to soft pretzels to knockoff purses — and boat bars — because what “Pirates of the Caribbean” fan doesn’t love the idea of a night club on the water?.

But I’m already looking forward to being reunited with certain aspects of American life.  I’ll be overjoyed to once again have a cup of coffee big enough to wrap my hands around. I’m also getting nostalgic for showers tall enough to accommodate my full height. I even miss Wal-Mart.  It turns out that in Europe, if you want to buy a hair straightener, a box of cereal and a yoga mat, you probably have to visit three different stores.

At the orientation seminars I attended nearly a month ago, our program director explained the typical adjustment process of a study abroad student, from the honeymoon phase to homesickness to something in between. But at no point did anyone explain when you begin to feel at home abroad.

Right now, I’m guessing that — like the sweet spot between being dazzled by your new city and being homesick for the one you left — the truth about my tourist vs. local question lies somewhere in the middle.

I don’t think four months is enough to make anyone a local in any city. But I also hope that by the end of my stay, I’ll be able to be the one giving, rather than asking, directions.

For now, I’ll settle for simply being able to find my way around.

Maggie Cregan is a sophomore history and magazine journalism major. From Cleveland to Syracuse to Strasbourg, she enjoys rocking out and getting hopelessly lost. If you want to talk to her about this column, or are Keith Richards, reach her at [email protected] and follow her on Twitter at @MaggieCregan_SU.

Published on February 10, 2014 at 10:15 pm