I miss Lamont Library….? Wow. That is one thought I never believed would cross my mind. I hope I didn’t say it out loud... I am standing outside the library of Centre Pompidou in Paris. By standing outside, I mean standing in a line hundreds of people long, seemingly miles from the one small door to this massive library.

My back is aching from holding my laptop, books, power chords, iPod, and day’s supply of food, water and gum (all marathon study session essentials) for the past two hours in this ridiculous line. I have already been harassed by several passing homeless people, one of whom was wearing a black trench coat, drinking a flask of whisky and blew smoke in my face after I refused to respond to his psychotic rantings.

While I am finding this experience dangerously close to my conception of Purgatory, it is seemingly normal to the hundreds of students in line ahead of me and behind me, who casually read their books or talk on their cell phones while awaiting the elusive moment where we will be allowed entry to the library. After another 45 minutes, a fight with some people trying to cut in front of me, a metal detector, a bag inspection and a required flash of my government-issued identification card, I finally settle down on the fourth floor near a window with a breath-taking view of Paris.

As soon as I dare think that this was worth the wait, I discover that there is no wireless internet, or not unless you’re willing to pay for it using a personal credit card. Oh yeah, and the only bathrooms are on the first floor, there are no vending machines, and it is definitely not okay to use the chair next to you for your food, water and gum supply.

When I hear an announcement over the loud speaker that there are pickpockets circulating through the library and that I should keep a close watch over my personal belongings, I figure it is time to relocate. I was actually inside the library for about 40% of the amount of time I spent waiting in line. At this point, Lamont is beginning to look like the Ritz Carlton of libraries. I guess it’s true that you never know what you have until it’s gone.

When I say I am studying abroad in France, a lot of people chuckle to themselves, pleased with the opportunity to demonstrate their ironic wit, retorting with ‘that’s funny, because I heard nobody in France actually studies.’ Even at the orientation session for my exchange program, we were warned that French university students are shockingly disinterested in their classes.

In stark contrast with $40,000+ annual cost of tuition of the our private system, the French university system is almost entirely public, allowing every student (as long as they pass the Baccalaureate exam administered at the end of high school) to attend any public French university at nearly no cost at all. Without the motivation of the opportunity cost of hundreds of thousands of dollars spent on their education, it seems logical that French students might not feel as pressured to succeed. Consequently, I began the semester ready to face the extreme nonchalance of my new peers.

I can’t quote the official definition of ‘extreme nonchalance’ or ‘ shocking disinterest’, but I would guess that neither include ‘willing to withstand hellish conditions while waiting line for 2+ hours to go to a library with no amenities’. I think I can safely say that the stereotype of the careless French student is not always true. Sure, there are people that sleep through lectures, and others that don’t show up at all.

But, much to my surprise/disgust/fascination, the majority of students in my lectures come prepared with some sort of special gridded note-taking paper and ten to twelve different colored highlighters. They then proceed to meticulously transcribe (literally) the lecture, simultaneously color-coding and furiously cross-referencing. As a relatively Type-A student from Harvard, I’ve never felt so under-prepared, so upstaged. I don’t even think they sell that kind of paper in America.

Obviously, I am still struggling to understand the drastically opposing academic approaches of French students and how exactly they are related to the unique structure of the French system. Maybe it would be nice to trade the ever-increasing tuition bill for a nearly free college education, but after experiencing the other option, I have come to truly appreciate the luxuries that our tuition bills afford us… namely, Lamont Library.