It All Went Too Quickly

It is a cliché thing to say, but clichés exist for a reason: it all went too quickly.

As I sit on the Thalys train to Essen, looking out the window at a typical rainy day in north France, it is impossible not to reflect on the time I have spent in Paris. This morning, I walked out of my apartment (the Paris bungalow, we dubbed it) in the city’s 16th Arrondissement for the last time, and got into my Uber.

On the way to Gare du Nord (literally meaning “north train station”), I was happy to see that my Uber driver was very talkative, and willing to speak mainly French with me. Upon arriving in Paris, I learned very quickly just how fluent in English most people, especially those my age, were.

Furthermore, I saw that the moment people realized I knew very little French (which was pretty much the second I started speaking it), they would switch to English when speaking with me. But this was expected.

However, what I did not fully grasp was the reason why this was the case. Just as I wanted people to speak French with me so I could practice, they wanted me to speak English so they could practice. It was understandable.

I realized that when we Americans decide to learn a second-language (which sadly, is not enough), we usually do not have people to practice with on a day-to-day basis. For Parisians, however, speaking English with tourists on the streets of their own city is truly a quite normal experience.

What often resulted here was a bizarre situation in which people spoke to me in nearly perfect English, while I attempted to respond with a very basic French. So you could see how I would be excited to have the opportunity to communicate with someone who spoke very little English, which brings us back to that Uber driver this morning.

As we drove through Paris (Gare du Nord is about a 20 minute drive from my apartment, across the city), I managed to hold a conversation with my driver, en Français. Well, sort of.

There were times when I realized I misspoke, (saying “mon famille” instead of “ma famille”), and he would correct me. I am sure that there were many other times when I would mispronounce a word or use the wrong conjugation. However, what is perhaps most important, is that I was largely understood.

This is a far cry from my first Uber ride in Paris, three months ago.

The Arrival

August 27th, 2018. A very tired Harry Levine steps off his United flight and into Charles de Gaulle Airport, north of Paris. He meets two Sciences Po students who guide him to a shuttle, and then heads to the city.

After picking up the keys to my apartment from the office of our student housing company, and being still unfamiliar with the Paris metro, I decided to Uber over. It was a short drive, but in looking around the city, it hit me: I was in Paris - a whole new city to explore, a whole new world to see.

Perhaps due to my excitement, I began to ask what questions I could (in French) to the driver about the city, but in retrospect, I don’t think he understood many of them. I did learn something, however, when he pointed to the Eiffel Tower and said “Il y a la Tour Eiffel.” There is the Eiffel Tower.

There is far more to living abroad than just learning a language. In Quebec, French is also spoken, but people in Paris will be the first to tell you that Quebec and France are very different.

Eating Out, Differently

You don’t tip in France (most of the time). Waiters and waitresses here are paid a set hourly wage, and as such, do not provides the same intense, hands-on service as seen in American eateries.

At brasseries (a brasserie is type of French restaurant which usually just serves single dishes) and cafés in the city, it is usually custom to just walk up and take a seat, preferably outside. Most establishments have strong outdoor heaters, so you can have the true Parisian café experience at all times of the year!

After sitting down, a waiter or waitress will come and ask for your order after five minutes or so. Or ten. Or more, or less.

But going out to eat or get coffee is not just about, well, going out to eat or getting coffee. It is about the experience. It is about sitting at a small table outside a nice café with friends, and just talking - or just watching people walk by on an overcast day.

I was rarely asked whether I was “ready for the check,” at least not for several hours. It is also rare to be frequently checked on by staff as is common in American restaurants. Just relax with your friends, or on your own. Enjoy the (often somewhat overpriced) coffee and the excellent food; don’t rush things.

The Meaning of a Friend

In reading of this eating-out experience, you may have noticed that I spoke of friends several times. This leads me to another major takeaway from my time in France: what the French would call a friend, and what Americans would call a friend, are two very different things.

Back at George Washington University (which I am ever so grateful to for having this program, among so many things), I would throw around the word “friend” loosely.

I would call people I spoke with in my classes friends, people I met at parties friends, and people from back home, who I spoke with infrequently, friends. I would go as far to say that this view of friendship can be broadly applied to most students my age.

In France, the definition of friendship is far more narrow, and deeper. A friend is someone who you can count on, who is with you for the long-term, and who is part of a tightly-knit group of people.

Walk out of the main building (Building A we called it) at Sciences Po on any given weekday, and you will see groups of students congregating in the street. Most of the time, they are not gathered here for any specific event - just to see their friends, and talk.

The same applies to the (wonderfully-subsidized) Sciences Po cafeteria. You can see familiar faces; group of friends spending their time between classes together at lunch - often the same groups, almost every day.

There are many who hold the view that the French are rude - especially to foreigners. I can assure you however, that this is not the case. A better term would be “reserved.” In all of my interactions with the French, I was shown almost nothing but politeness and kindness.

However, one needs to realize that having a casual friendship with an expat for a short period of time may simply not be in the cards for many people in France, and that preference needs to be respected.

I would not be surprised if many in France went to the United States and viewed Americans as being social butterflies, who don’t value long-term human relationships as much as they do. To clarify, this is a generalization, and I myself did in fact make many French friends while here, who made my time abroad the best it could be.

The Sights!

I have commented much thus far on the more social experiences of my time in Paris, and rightfully so. However, no discussion of my experience there would be complete without talking about the sights! Indeed, Paris is abound with wonderful museums, parks, and cathedrals. Being a fan of them all, you could imagine I had a field day.

Of course, there are the obvious: the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre-Dame, the Arc de Triomphe - I could go on. I certainly enjoyed seeing all of these (as my Instagram and Facebook can attest), but I also think that other sites in Paris are overlooked, particularly by tourists only in the city for several days.

There is Jardin du Luxembourg, a wonderful and historic park on Paris’s Left Bank. On the Right Bank, there are the romantic and picturesque Parc Monceau and Parc de Buttes Chaumont, among countless others, all perfect for an afternoon stroll.

As for old churches, after Notre-Dame and Sacré-Cœur (the latter of which was one of my favorite spots in the city), there are countless others. Some of those which I visited were Saint-Sulpice, Saint-Ambrose, and Saint-Eustache - all grand in their own right, and mostly without nearly as many visitors as the major tourist attractions.

One may think, not unfairly, that I am veering into being a travel guide here. While such a purpose may be served, there is a deeper meaning behind describing the parks and cathedrals of Paris: they are representative of the commitment to beauty I saw in France.

Simply put, the city just flowed.

The streets were manicured, the buildings were clean and orderly, the cafes were well-presented, and there was plenty of green to be seen. I suspect that I am not the only one who, when walking down the streets of Paris, felt as if I was a character in a novel.

There was a certain sense of calm and order that this created, one that you didn't even have to point out, one that you just felt.

To complement the aforementioned beauty was an intellectualism perhaps no better expressed than through the abundance of museums across the city. Along with countless (and I literally mean countless) art museums, there are many cultural and historic museums in the French capital.

Of these, I greatly enjoyed the Institute of the Arab World, Les Invalides (a military history museum) and in particular, Musée du quai Branly. It is this last institution which I would like to focus more on, as it brings me to an important point before closing.

Take It All In

If one wants to truly learn about a country, especially when travelling in it, they need to engage all of it. There has never been a nation on earth without flaws, but as a tourist, it is often easy to be sucked in by the sights, the music, the art, and the food. These are all well and good, and in Paris, they are all exceptional.

But they are not everything to see, or everything to know. Musée du quai Branly, as mentioned earlier, is a museum dedicated to the art and craftsmanship of indigenous peoples across the world. In visiting the museum, I found myself immersed in a vast array of works and cultures spanning peoples across the globe.

However, despite being dedicated to indigenous peoples, the museum holds many artifacts which France itself looted from its colonies, an ugly reminder of the nation’s colonial past.

Simply put, you can enjoy walking the beautiful streets of Paris. You also should know that there are people living on the streets of its suburbs whose future is determined more by their zip code than their skills.

You can enjoy your interactions with people (it was one of my favorite parts of living abroad), but you should recognize that those interactions can be largely influenced by who you are, as opposed to just where you are.

And you can enjoy seeing Musée du quai Branly, but you need to know why the artifacts it holds are there.

To be clear, I absolutely loved France, and my time there will be an experience to remember for life. But again, in order to truly understand and immerse yourself in a place, you need to embrace all of it. This applies to all nations, including one’s own. You will be doing yourself a disservice if you do not.

The Time is Now

It just all went too quickly.

But as another cliché says, time does fly when having fun, and have fun I did. Which brings me to the biggest takeaway from my time in France: a recommendation.

Study abroad. You can only be young and a student at one point in your life, and during those formative years, there could perhaps be no richer experience. While I would recommend Paris (I am heavily biased at this point), go anywhere if you can.

I understand that doing so could be more difficult for some than for others, but what I am saying is that if you do have the chance to go, however small, go for it. You will not regret it, I guarantee it. Take the leap, engage, dive in.

The slogan of a certain well-known sportswear company may have worded it best: just do it.