Wandering in Paris - Finding My Way
I think I know where I am now.
My Paris adventure began with fumbling around a very large metropolitan city, one that didn’t speak my native tongue. Let me be honest, I am geographically challenged whether I am in the small Southern towns of home or in Paris. Yes - I am that person with the cell phone trying to figure out which way is North or South, East or West.
My first week was shared with my sister and niece who had never been to Paris. Because I studied here in college and I have revisited the City of Light multiples times thereafter, there is an expectation that I know the city. Well, I do, kind of. When I ask directions multiple times along the way, I am reassured that my French is very good. We had a wonderful time doing the must see activities, with one of our favorites being a four hour lunch in the Eiffel Tower. Contrary to my first thought of this being touristy, it was a very special and memorable time.
The plan with this trip was to immerse. Unpack. Live here. Well my sister is gone and I am not sure how I was in sharing the city with her but now I think I now know where I am. I am finding my way. Still confused by North and South, I can point my way towards the Seine and Notre Dame or to the Eiffel Tower and Champs Elysee.
My bags are unpacked and I am trying to find a rhythm that keeps me engaged. I am one that does not do well with idle time. I am a planner and a doer so I had to find a way to make that work in Paris. My two large, checked bags included an easel and paint supplies, seventeen pounds to be exact. I tried to check only one bag but could not do it. I have combined my adventures around Paris with trinkets and pickups of things to paint in the studio area I have set up in the apartment. So far, flea market finds, and goods from the outdoor Marchés are giving me great inspiration. So I am painting my way through the city. I have found a nearby Pilates studio - I am the woman in the back copying the form of those around me.
Living alone anywhere has its challenges when the quiet overtakes you. Or when you are exhausted from your head thinking in a different language. It is amazing how the words return. I am not sure what they truly think about my ability to converse but many around town are bearing me trying. Some have asked if they want me to speak English, many are amused and happy to oblige when I request French. Spoken French at a rapid pace is challenging but hopefully I will see progress as the weeks go by.
As I walk around, I am an outsider looking in at the French. I don’t have to interact. No one is trying to reach out either. No eye contact, everyone just making their way to wherever they are going. If I stumble up to someone, they are generally very happy to speak but for the most part only when approached. No one cares what you are doing or what you are wearing. It is as if everyone is enjoying their own version of Paris.
When in France,
Melissa
