From Chicago to Orléans: My TAPIF Adventure Begins

I’ve cried more times in France than I have in my entire life—but I keep coming back. Let me tell you why. Many of my life decisions have been shaped by France. My very first time in France, and abroad in general, was during the summer of 2022 when I studied in Nice. That trip also included a Morocco portion, which I wrote about (check it out here)! While I’ll write about that experience later, this post kicks off a 3-part series on my journey with the TAPIF program.

What is TAPIF?

TAPIF stands for Teaching Assistant Program in France. If you’ve taken French classes in college, your professors have probably mentioned it. The program allows English speakers to teach in public schools in France, from elementary to high school. While it’s primarily for Americans, it’s also open to other English-speaking countries. You don’t need a teaching background—I sure didn’t—which makes it an appealing way to work and live abroad. You’re only required to work 12 hours per week, theoretically leaving plenty of time to travel. The downside? The pay is around €810/month (about $850). You’re not technically allowed to work another job, though you can tutor or babysit for a little extra income.

Applying for TAPIF

I first heard about TAPIF through my university’s French department. I was so determined to go back to France that I graduated from college a semester early. I loved my study abroad experience, but I wanted to live and work in France to get a deeper sense of the culture and daily life.

I spent months exploring every option that didn’t involve teaching—applying to France-based companies, looking into Master’s programs, AuPairing, anything that could pay me and secure a visa. Nothing panned out. So, in January, I wrote my essays, secured recommendation letters, paid the $99 fee, and submitted my TAPIF application on the final day.

While I felt confident about being accepted, I was nervous about my placement. The application lets you list your regional and school preferences, but placements can’t be changed. I chose Nice as my first choice but knew it wasn’t guaranteed since Nice and Paris are the two most popular options. I listed two other random regions and requested a high school placement—anything to avoid working with young kids, a decision shaped by my After School Tutor stint at the Lycée Français de Chicago.

In April, on my way to get LASIK surgery (a story for another day), I got my placement email: “Congratulations! You’ve been placed in the Orléans-Tours Académie.” The only Orléans I know is New Orleans. I pull up the map and it seems to be really close to Paris. Once I finally recovered from my LASIK procedures after a couple days, I actually sat down and tried to imagine what my life would look like if I decided to accept this placement. I saw myself in my own apartment, traveling on the weekends, having friends, taking the train into Paris - really everything that didn’t have to do with the actual teaching aspect of the job. Although Orléans wasn’t even one of the options I chose, I thought it was time I do something completely different and truly challenge myself. I knew it would be difficult with a slight language barrier, being completely alone in a foreign country, in a new city, and starting a new life, a new identity, and honestly it excited me. I was happy to leave my parent’s house, to leave Chicago, and start fresh in a place where nobody knows me. While teaching isn't what I saw myself doing, I accepted my placement with a mix of fear and excitement.

Breaking the News to My Family

This was the hardest part of the process. My family is close-knit, with most of us living in Chicago or nearby suburbs. A young, single girl moving across the ocean for nearly a year was unheard of and, to them, unacceptable. I did have a slight advantage by already studying abroad, but this would be almost a whole year on my own.

I eased them into it. Over the months leading up to my departure, I showed them my plans: how I’d find an apartment, open a bank account, and set up my new life. Their concerns lessened when they saw how prepared I was. My original plan was to arrive a couple weeks before the October 1st start date in order to set up the bank account, phone plan, and find an apartment. They agreed, but I begged them to let my brother and sister come with me for one week so they could see France for the first time! My siblings are indifferent towards France - I was the one trying to convince my parents for days. Finally, they agreed!

Arriving in France

The three of us traveled to Paris together and arrived in early September. We arrived at CDG airport at 9am Paris time. The Airbnb was not going to be available until 1pm. We had a lot of luggage so we decided to wait in the airport. That 3-4 hour wait was the most brutal experience of my life. Not one of us slept, we were fighting for our lives to stay awake, it felt like Dante’s inferno. After counting down the seconds, we made it to our Airbnb. I couldn’t wait to follow the itinerary I planned!

I divided the week into two days in Paris, two days in Nice, and three more in Paris. I of course took them to the touristy areas in Paris but I felt one week would get boring and repetitive. So I broke down the week into 2 days Paris, 2 days Nice, and 3 days back in Paris. I am Nice’s biggest advertiser and honestly I was happy to show my siblings the city I previously lived in. I showed them my old routine and it felt like such a different time. It had only been one year since I was there, but I have so many memories. It was weird walking down the same streets, taking the tram, going to the restaurants I went to, and so on. I was definitely nostalgic, but I didn’t like the feeling. I didn’t like thinking about how much fun I had then because I felt pressure to kind of relive that in Orléans now.

My sister in particular did not like Paris. She thinks the city is dirty, French people are rude, and the food is bad. While her brutal honesty didn’t surprise me, her critique only added to my doubts about what I was doing. That week honestly feels like a fever dream though, I don’t remember much and I don’t know why. I do, however, vividly remember the day they left. They had a morning flight, I walked them to their Uber, waved goodbye, and I’ll admit I went back into my room and cried. I hadn’t felt lonely and it finally hit me that I was going to be alone moving forward.

A Rocky Start in Orléans

I threw myself into setting up my new life, starting with the bank account. Opening one as a foreigner in France is notoriously difficult. I did some research and found that BNP Paribas is the easiest bank to open an account with if you are already a Bank of America client. Keep in mind, however, you still need a visa, work contract, US tax information, passport, and a permanent address. Now, you may be wondering - how are you supposed to have a permanent address if you don’t have an apartment/place to live. Great question. You may think - then first get an apartment and then open up your bank account. Seems like a good idea. But you cannot rent an apartment without a bank account and proof of income. And, your employer can’t pay you until you have a bank account. So no matter which step you try to start with first there’s something you need before that - it’s a chicken or the egg situation! Luckily, my Airbnb host was a French-American who had written an attestation de logement for clients before and kindly wrote one for me. After a couple days, and daily phone calls to BNP, I got approved!!

The next step was finding an apartment. I tried searching on leboncoin which is like Craigslist but I was too scared to call the number and speak to someone on the phone. I noticed a couple agencies so I decided to have someone do the extra work for me. I booked a train ticket to Orléans from the Gare d’Austerlitz (which will soon become my second home) and made a day-trip out of apartment hunting in Orléans. The day I went, I had a horrible throat ache - it felt like strep and I could barely talk! At the time my French was good enough for me to be alone, but it was still difficult to communicate and I definitely misunderstood a lot of important details along the way. For instance, I had my work contract with my monthly salary. But, my low salary did not meet the minimum income requirements to rent an apartment. So all of the agencies rejected me. In a scenario like this, you can have a guarantor, which is a person who can kind of co-signs the apartment with you. It’s essentially just proof of their income in the event you can’t pay rent. However, it has to be a French person, or at least a French resident/citizen. I didn’t know anybody yet, let alone have someone co-sign an apartment for me. Or you can apply for an online guarantor but you will only get approved for a couple hundred euros. This means you are only allowed to pay rent for an apartment or roommate situation between €200-€400ish because of your low salary.

At this point my first day of work was one week away and I was homeless in Orléans. I went back to Paris feeling defeated. I remembered though I was in a Whatsapp group chat with the previous language assistant in Orléans. I sent him a message about my situation and he quickly got the word out in Orléans that I was looking for an apartment. A couple days later, he tells me his doctor and her family would be able to host me. Apparently they have a big house in the city center where I would have my own room and plenty of personal space. He tells me the family can meet me on Sunday (which is the day before my first day of work) to officially meet me and have me move in. It was the looming homelessness that made me agree to this because never did I think I would have a roommate, let alone live with a whole French family.

Facing the Unknown

I pack my 2 large suitcases, a carry-on, a Longchamp tote, and backpack and make my way to Gare d’Austerlitz. Keep in mind it’s a 45 minute train ride from Paris to Orléans. I am boarding the train when I receive a phone call. It’s the guy. He tells me, “Hey, I’m so sorry but the family is not able to host you anymore” I feel my heart drop to my knees and I start feeling nauseous. “What do you mean?” I didn’t even listen to his response. My mind was racing and I had 45 minutes to figure out a place to stay. Honestly, I was mad. With my shaky hands I go on Airbnb and book a place for 2 weeks. Luckily, the host allowed me to check in the moment I arrived. I remember walking in with all my suitcases, sitting down, and just staring at the wall. Is this a sign? Did I just make the worst mistake of my life? I’m all alone and I can’t even call my parents because they’re still sleeping. I seriously started to doubt my capability of analyzing a situation and my decision making skills. I can’t even process what I’m feeling because I have to wake up at 6am tomorrow. I regret every decision at that moment and frankly I just want to go home to Chicago where I watch Netflix in my bed and my dad brings me a bowl of fruit. All I could do was take a shower, eat, and go to bed for my first day teaching high schoolers English.

To Be Continued

Navigating these early challenges in France taught me resilience and resourcefulness in ways I couldn’t have imagined. In the next part of this series, I’ll dive into my experiences teaching high schoolers and adjusting to life in Orléans.

If you’ve ever thought about living abroad, considering TAPIF, or facing a similar crossroads, I’d love to hear from you! What’s holding you back? Drop your questions and thoughts in the comments below—I’m happy to help!