I learned to cook for myself when I was a teenager. All my life I have enjoyed cooking. I'm not good at it, but I do feel at home in a good kitchen. Before Mrs Late and I married, I loved cooking for her (You're hardly the only one, Kit), and now she cooks, ahem, chinadian pastas and beef stews for me. Haven't got her to roast a leg of lamb or a chicken yet, but I'm working on it.
Mimi is right, these tiny kitchens can be a bugger to work in, and you really can't quite duplicate what you made back home. You can, however, adapt. Experimenting, learning, overcoming the difficulties; these are all part of the fun. If and when you get to Carrefour or Metro or whatever, stock up on the western stuff, especially Italian seasoning (you know that already), but be prepared to get by without. When you're learning to cook, you learn to eat your mistakes. When I was a kid, I ate a lot of burnt dinosaurs.
My present job is located at the opposite end of the city from our home. I often get home a 9 at night or later, so as you can imagine I eat a lot of take-away and street food. (OOOh Mama, the weight I've gained) I'm making the money this year, but when this project is done I'll trade this job for teaching and live quite happily on half the salary. An improvement in diet isn't the first reason, but it is another reason.