Pari(dise)

I decided to forget about the earlier blogs I had written prior to setting up on-line. Also I would love to be able to have my profession be a travel writer one day. This is my first attempt at travel writing:

France is its own world, much like any unique country that you go to. I have never taken French language classes, I knew only a few words and I have never been to France for more than two days prior to my little adventure this October. French words such as “bonjour,” “merci” or “bon appétit” always seemed like words only from fairy tales. Not real words, but some romantic expressions that don’t exist in real life. So when I hear them so commonly used in Paris, I feel like I am in a dream. I have a difficult time taking people seriously because I feel like I am watching people in a play and not really interacting with them.

I really got the romantic Parisian experience while I was there. Julianne, my best friend whom I was staying with, commented on how it is the end all American-dream to live in Paris. However, now that she herself lives there, she can testify that life still goes on and Paris isn’t all about walking along the Seine, writing in a journal and falling in love to “La vie en rose.” Although this truth struck me, I wanted to ignore that fact for the four days I had in Paris and live that stereotypic illusion. While Julianne went to her fashion school classes, I sat in a little café and read while I predominantly “people watched.” There are a few things that stuck out to me right away. Parisians do not ever wear sweats and sneakers, not even on their “fat days” or “lazy days.” Every Parisian seems to have their own style and they are very much stylish in general. Every girl seems to have been taught how to walk like a model in heels and every boy seems to know how to coordinate a button-up shirt and scarf from the time they are able to walk. Fascinating, I thought.

I am back from Paris now and although I enjoyed myself, it is not the prettiest and romantic place on earth as many people imagine. The language helps, and the old buildings, the flower boxes on the window sills of every apartment, the artists painting on the corner, and the amazing varieties of cheese, bread, and wine are all wonderful. But to me Paris is another confusing big city with its pleasant and unfriendly people crowded into a subway train. The Eiffel Tower was once thought to be so ugly that it should be torn down, until they decided to turn it into a radio tower so it would at least have a practical purpose since it did not possess any beauty. I think the reason I like it is because of the way the lights seem to twinkle like a Christmas tree when you walk down the Seine towards it. Many people that live in Paris say that they have never even been up the tower and have no desire too.

Always remember that when you meet a French person for the first time, they expect to be greeted by you with a kiss on both cheeks. My roommate says it’s called “les bisous” but I wouldn’t know the difference if she was wrong. The first evening I was in Paris, Julianne took me to a church meeting with her that was completely in French and lasted 2 hour or more. I had never met a French person before and I was not prepared for the “kiss-kiss” that I was receiving from every person, male or female. I was not quite a pro, especially when caught off guard by the first kiss-kiss, but I got the hang of it after about 10 almost-kisses that could have been only slightly more awkward. Here is the technique: Most people prefer to go right to left (know this or you may both go left and kiss on the lips). You just touch cheek to cheek and make a kiss noise on one side and then the next. Simple as that, so don’t screw it up!