Paris Reflections

Ok, so here are my most recent reflections on Paris and my life here... next will come the first week of my internship followed by the fun things I did last week, followed by Rome. Out of order maybe but they are all on their way.

Paris Reflections

So I have been in Paris now for almost two months. Sometimes it seems like I just got here yesterday, and other times it feels like there is no place else on earth, that I have been here always. It is also a strange feeling because this is the first time that I have really lived on my own away from home. Sure I have lived at DePauw for the past two and a half years, but sometimes that is more like living at camp… and I can always run home for a weekend if I really want to… not so with Paris. This is also the first time that I have really lived in a city of any real considerable size. Dayton doesn’t really count, and plus I really live in Oakwood, not in Dayton so it doesn’t count (sorry Eleanor, I hope you still come visit). And of course I have visited lots of large US cities, like DC and New York and Chicago; but I don’t think a visit can really count for much. So here in this post I just want to reflect a little bit on Paris itself, and how I think it suits me… but also the inexorable frustrations that I can encounter … and I wonder if that is Paris or simply city life in general.

Mac told me one of the first times that I told him that I wanted to study in Paris for a semester, that just like every other person who had spent time in Paris, I would both love it, and struggle with it, as the city has a life and mind of its own. I have had this in mind all along as I have been here, and I find that Mac is most definitely right. I love Paris for its cafes, its outstanding and accessible public transportation system, and for the way every time you go in a restaurant they ask you « pour dîner ou pour boire » (to eat or to drink) and regardless of if you buy one coffee, one glass of wine, or an entire five course meal, you are welcome and entitled to your table until three am if you want it. I like how nowhere are you allowed on the grass… but everyone goes out on Sundays and plays soccer on the grass regardless. I love to see people walking home at all hours of the day with two warm baguettes fresh out of the oven at the nearest boulangerie, and more times than not I am making my way home with a demi-baguette myself. I like to listen to French people on the subway complain about everything from the weather to the latest scandal that Sarkozy is caught up in, and I love the merciless political cartoons in le monde. I love to listen to small children speak French, and muse about how they have better grammar and pronunciation than I ever will have… and I am envious of the ease with which they speak a language I have been trying to master for more than half of my life. I love all of it, the sights, the sounds, the smells (ok not always the smells) but for the most part I find myself taking in the sights of the city in constant awe of this place’s history, culture and breath of its own.

I also love to think about the people who have walked these streets before me, from famous people like Hemmingway, to Mac and Anne when they were in grad school and I like to imagine that in studying and being here I have put myself among some of the greatest and personalities of all time. Picasso loved this city more than Spain or anywhere else, and so did many more of the artists that I have studied and loved. They had they commune in 1871, when even though they burned a bunch of stuff down, they still had one of the first governments based on social welfare and social issues… even if it fell apart really quickly. Paris is the center of France, the beating heart of the country that simply could not function without it. I like to be at the center of that… I just like to be here.

While I love all of this, just as Mac said I can find myself to be completely put out by small things… and larger things too. When the bus is ungodly full and the purse of the woman behind you is stabbing you in the back, and the guy next to you really should invest in a new type of deodorant, and all you want to do is be home, then I find myself frustrated. Or in a cafe, when I am actually ready to leave, but the server is nowhere to be found with the check, and he isn’t working for a tip, so he doesn’t have all that much interest in your quality of service… then I am frustrated. When all I want is a big cup of coffee, and I am of course served a tiny little shot of espresso instead… then I really long for Café Roy, and Rhonda who always greats me with a smile and a story of what her boys are up to. I am sometimes overwhelmed by a type of homesickness for strangers… and how they smile and say hello, even if they are in a hurry, or you know you are never going to see them again… Is it strange to be homesick for that? I suppose not, since I think that American friendliness can be both a blessing and a curse, but I can’t help but miss it sometimes. And maybe it is not simply American friendliness, but mid west friendliness… as much as I sometimes hate being from the Midwest.

There is always something to do, something to see and another museum to visit. Even being in this city for 6 months I am sure that I will not get to see everything that I want to see, one could spend a week in the Louvre alone. Not to mention all of the other art museums I want to see, and the special exhibits, and the small art galleries that the city is full of. Jerome (my prof of cultural politics) told us that Paris is no longer the art capital of the world… that New York won that place years ago… but that aside Paris is still home to some of the most interesting, famous, and understated art in the world. I am still trying to explore it all, and I only hope there are enough hours in my life to even begin to delve into the riches this city holds. But as always, when speaking about the rich culture and art that Paris is home to, I can’t help but call into question many of the complexities of Parisian and French culture that I refuse to ignore.

Paris would not be the diverse city that it is if it weren’t for the colonial history that France itself struggles to come to terms with even to this day. People from all over the francophone world inhabit Paris, and they all come from different backgrounds. On the metro I can be sitting next to a person who is a third generation citizen whose grandparents grew up in Algeria, a sans-papier from Cameroon who is stuck in Paris with no living, but still prefers it to his country of origin. There are people who could be descended from Clovis himself, and others who are visiting from Italy or England. It is always a wonderful mélange of people and places and cultures, all united by the French language, and their historical ties. However, in the states I feel like we embrace this diversity (even if only in theory sometimes) and in France it has raised many many questions which do not have easy answers, and have manifested themselves politically. The most recent manifestation has been in the débat sur l’identité nationale- essentially a question of what it means to be French… and many of the responses have been « if you aren’t white and catholic then you aren’t French » even though that is not how the French sold themselves to their colonies, and it just seems like the colonial ideas are far from dead in this country. Even if you are that third generation French citizen who’s grandparents grew up in Algeria, and France is the only home you have ever known, someone will still ask « D’où venez-vous » (where are you from) and expect you to respond with Algeria. It is a strange place for a country to be caught in, and a lot of it comes back to colonialism and how France approached her colonies, in contrast with say how England did it. France is also home to the Declaration of Rights of Man… and somewhere in all of that they want to uphold the highest standards, and are ashamed they haven’t always done so… but in reality they still struggle with an idea of a racial hierarchy…France really struggles in my opinion to handle this part of their complicated history, and I feel like being in Paris I have been able to see some of these struggles happen first hand. This is particularly true from only the week I have spent at L’institut du monde arabe… But as always in my reflections, I digress into issues of post-colonialism and its challenges…

So perhaps to conclude this Paris Reflection and I am sure there will be a few more, I just want to say that I really love this city, regardless of how frustrating it can be. After spending 10 day in Italy and visiting four different cities, I have to say that I am still partial to Paris. Rome feels much more Mediterranean of course, but it also feels different… it doesn’t feel like Paris… and for now, while I am here in Europe, Paris feels like home.