Before I decided to study abroad, I often dreamt of the beauty and insight that I might gain on a trip to a foreign country. Even in my childhood, I had pictured myself on a brisk April night—a famous writer, sipping coffee in a little French café under the Eiffel Tower while penning my next masterpiece.

Needless to say, when I entered Centre College and heard about the study abroad opportunities offered as a part of the curriculum, I was sure that my dream could become a reality. I excitedly began buying new pens, and I just knew that I could smell the coffee brewing in Europe, so many miles away. I made the decision to spend a semester in Strasbourg, France, to venture out into the world alone—just me, my backpack full of pens and my two purple hand crutches.

When I first presented the idea of the exciting endeavor in France to my parents, they were both scared and skeptical. They knew that going abroad would be difficult for me. Even though they had always been very supportive of any new path I had chosen in my life, this time they were afraid that this new path would involve many unexpected detours for which I would not be prepared.

In the months before the trip, my parents and I spent many hours talking with the college international programs director about the accommodations I would need in a foreign country, attempting to eliminate any obstacles that I might face. We discussed everything from the importance of finding an apartment building with a bigger elevator to the significance of a bathroom shower seat. I had to remember to leave no stone unturned in our conversation and to ask for every last bit of help that I thought I might need. My success abroad would be an important stepping stone for me personally. In my mind, if I could survive France, I could handle anything. After careful deliberation and review of all the issues, Centre College was able to use some of my tuition money (which ultimately pays for everything needed abroad except a plane ticket and books) to assist me as best they could in my efforts to make France my accessible home away from home.

On January 23, I leapt (as best my four legs could) onto the plane, eager to begin my voyage to that new, beautiful home in Europe that had intrigued and busied me for so many months prior. I was going to France—to live, breathe, eat and speak like a true European for the next four months—and I was truly elated. I knew that I had a whole month of brisk April nights ahead on which to write that Eiffel-inspired novella and I was ready to tackle them all.

From the very first day I was abroad, I loved the experience. Simply walking down the cobblestone streets to the sound of a language other than my native tongue was amazing. I would go to the same bakery every day for my favorite raspberry pastry before heading to our single classroom and the Université de Strasbourg professors. There was a reassurance in the routine song of the cathedral bells. Hearing their music daily made me grateful that I’d come to France. It truly was a whole new world.

The arrangements I made ahead of time with the international program staff were helpful and included a rental wheelchair for long distance group trips and a shower seat for my apartment. The school also paid for four months of bus and tram passes so that I could navigate Strasbourg alone when needed. Through the school, I was also able to arrange a homestay with a French family on weekends, so that I could perfect my French and learn more about the culture while the others in my group took individual travel time.

However, though this new world had its comforts, it often presented me with challenges that at times would seem insurmountable. These challenges were the unexpected detours that my parents had earlier anticipated and that I had never truly appreciated. Some of the obstacles were easier to overcome than others. If a sheet of rain dampened my morning bakery walk, I’d take the city tram. If the tram drivers were on strike on the rainy days (as they often were), then I would walk slowly through the rain… left crutch, right foot, right crutch, left foot. This was an extreme sport at times, with the rain pelting through my poncho and the cobblestones becoming more slippery by the second. My trip was sometimes interrupted by a fall, but my forethought prevented the occasional slip from becoming an obstacle, as I usually packed a sweatshirt to put over or in place of wet clothes. I imagined myself as a soldier sloshing through the slippery trenches of a battlefield. This scenario always brought a smile to my face, even on the rainiest of days.

On the other hand, some battles became more personal than the raindrops and some wounds more deep than a sweatshirt could repel. While abroad, I lived with five other women from my college whom I hadn’t previously known. At times, we would clash as any new roommates do, but some confrontations were more personal than others. I learned to approach each problem with an open mind and to look at every situation from my roommates’ points of view, not just my own. Honestly, I believe that though we may not be the best of friends now, we learned from each other that semester. We all experienced new ways of thinking unknown to us before. Our actions, reactions and interactions during every conversation led us on many unexpected detours, together and separately. These were perhaps the most pain-laden paths upon which I have had to journey thus far, but they were also the most helpful. For me, these detours generated self-exploration and honest constructive self-criticism, both of which helped mold me into the person I am today, over a year after my return.

I did not write my novella under the Eiffel Tower on a brisk April night—though my journal often served as a great confidant—and I am not yet a famous writer. Some might say that my childhood dream did not become a reality. But I believe that my trip to France helped spur many other dreams that, with use of the skills I acquired abroad, can come true. The many obstacles I faced in my semester abroad have made me more flexible, conscientious and calm in difficult situations. I have learned to truly value and respect opinions other than my own. And I have learned that the longest, most confusing detour can become a familiar, well-trodden path through use of forethought and ingenuity.

These lessons are essential to my success in life. Namely, they provide substantial support for me as I begin to embark on the next important journey in my life—my decision to learn and practice civil rights law, with a focus on the rights of those with disabilities. The insight that I have gained from tackling the obstacles on my trip abroad will help me aid others in confronting their difficult situations. I can help them to constantly anticipate the unexpected detours, and to learn from every path that they ever choose to follow. More important, I can use the insight that I gained abroad to aid them in finding a positive outcome around every path’s tricky bends.

Seventy percent of Centre College students participate in study abroad at some point during their enrollment at the college. Centre College’s programs are available to enrolled students only.