The New Girl 🇫🇷🆚🇨🇳

So. New country, new school, new language, new EVERYTHING. Time to write it all down before I forget how WILD 🐯 the differences are.

First thing I did in France: join the conservatoire AND a local studio, because — brace yourself — each school has two classical classes a week. Two. ✌️ In China I danced nine to ten hours a week ON TOP of taekwondo 🥋. My poor little French planning looked like it was on holiday. (Spoiler alert: in France, everything is always slightly on holiday. We’ll get there. 🏖️)

Some context, because you don’t know my old life. I was born in China, and I lived there for 9 years and it’s where it all started (the ballet). In China, my studio was brand new — opened by a former principal dancer who had just “retired” — and me, Jackie and Min were practically its first three students. Literally founding members. 👑 We grew up in that studio, and it worked like this: everything followed the Vaganova curriculum (that’s the Russian technique 🇷🇺), and instead of one big class you had 45-minute classes, usually at least 2 per day. Classical technique. Pirouettes. Variations. Competition coaching. Russian gymnastics. 🤸‍♀️ Plus auditions and rehearsals whenever you got cast, and you got cast a LOT: Nutcracker extracts in shopping malls at Christmas 🎄, ensembles choreographed by Miss Wendy at Easter, and at least one real ballet a year — The Fairy Doll, La Esmeralda, Le Corsaire. I had a performing CAREER, babes. I was eight. 🎭

France is… a different planet. 🪐 There is ONE class, and it is called “ballet”. Every class is the same: barre, then centre. Basics, basics, basics. Boring. But OK. But boring. 🥱 You have to take modern and contemporary at the conservatoire (compulsory), but repertoire? character? I asked. “You cannot do repertoire before, at least, fourteen! Repertoire is for ÉTOILES — criminal offensive side-eye” FOURTEEN. What the helly?? 😱 AND there is one show per year. ONE. Do the maths with me: in France you could do ballet for YEARS — and most of the girls here started way before me — and NEVER wear a tutu. Like, never. Not once. 🚫🩰 When I open my own studio one day, hear me now: shows constantly, tutus, rat costumes 🐀, and The Nutcracker every single Christmas. This is a promise and a business plan. 📋💖

Now — the awkward part. When I arrived, I was, like, the star. And I am not being cocky — I know I am good but I was not like “the best” before. In truth, not even close. But here, I am like “the star”, and people had a THEORY about that: “she is from China, they force the children through it there… it’s like torture” Bombastic criminal offensive side eye. 😒😒😒 No. Nobody forced me through anything. It was FUN in China. Yes, we worked — splits with your leg up on three yoga blocks is not a spa day 🧘‍♀️ — but we laughed the whole time, the teachers were nice and encouraging. We gossiped at the barre. We made up silly little dances. Min and Jackie taught me how to twerk (sorry, Miss Wendy 🙈). We swapped tips. Hard work and joy are not opposites; they’re a pas de deux. 💞 France makes you do the basics for years and years — while in China they hand you variations and performance early and let you grow up inside the actual repertoire. Both work. Only one of them lets you wear a tutu before your eighteenth birthday. 🎂

The vibe here took some adjusting too. In China, the studio was our clubhouse — we’d go in early to warm up, hang out, LIVE there. 🏠 We even ate there quite often, and not dainty little sandwiches. Smelly takeaway chinese soups in polyester bowls. Here, the girls wait outside and walk in when class starts. (Gossips strictly restricted to the “Vestiaire” — until me, that is. 🤫) And the teachers are, let’s say, strict. My main teacher is Voldemort. (Not her real name. Obviously. But if the warm-up bootie fits… 🧙‍♀️) In China, Miss Wendy corrected us like this: “Good job Gigi — better! Maybe next time try to keep your leg straighter” or “I know you can do it, spot faster.” 🌸 I never saw a single person cry in that studio. Here? People cry. A LOT. 😭 I am trying to lighten the mood with my british humour, occasionally aimed at the teachers. Yes, it’s surprisingly useful when the adults aren’t one hundred per cent sure how much French you understand yet (wink wink 😉). And the other kids always laughed when Voldemort went on a rant while I fixed her with a blank stare, ended up asking if I understood, and me saying “I only heard blablabla plié”. Somehow, people always assume I am not that smart. One can be pretty AND smart, you know.

And THE HOLIDAYS. 🏖️ France is always either on holiday, coming back from holiday, or counting down to the next holiday. Every six weeks, minimum two weeks off, nearly three in summer — so you have to build your own plan to keep training (see: my Intensive Diaries 📓). In China we had a few days at Chinese New Year 🧧 — unless there was a mall performance, that is — and the occasional level 8 typhoon day 🌀. That’s it. That’s the list. Summer holiday? You mean summer intensive, LOL. The studio never closed. 🔒❌

What I miss most, though, isn’t the schedule. It’s Sundays. 🥟 Yes, you heard it, Sundays. In China I had FOUR classes on Sunday, and no school or other things to worry about. We basically hanged at the studio all day — Starbucks run before, dim sum after, usually with Min’s family, and Jackie trying to steal the last dumpling and denying it with a completely straight face. Main character energy, all day long. ✨ Founding members, remember. You don’t replace that. 💗

But new chapter, new studio, new mission. And France had something I had not heard of before… (dramatic pause 🥁) …it’s called danse-études. Next entry. 🩰💅