Here’s the problem with getting ready for school when you’re an American teenager living in France: nothing makes sense. You drink coffee in bowls instead of mugs, eat a breakfast of baguettes with jam instead of fried eggs and bacon. Maybe you can take the train to school, but only if the SNCF isn’t on strike again, in which case you’ll have to find a bus or a parent/guardian with a car—French drivers aren’t allowed a license till age 18. Once you make it to school but before classes start, you’ll be expected to share la bise (kisses on each cheek) with all your classmates and sometimes with friends of friends. This practice, along with the question of whether to use vous (formal you) or tu (informal you) makes meeting strangers an etiquette nightmare. And then there are the high school classes themselves. French and European history everyone’s been learning since childhood. Second and third languages. Literature classes with references to Voltaire and de la Fontaine instead of Hemingway and Melville. Oh, and most of the school restrooms are unisex.