Some kind of wonderful. A few thoughts on Paris

There are many stereotypes here. Some good, some not so complimentary and it is not easy at times to separate these preconceptions with newly formed impressions. Mostly I found that the city doesn't care what you think anyway so it's best just to experience it without analysing it, well analyse it later of course, but live in Paris without judgement nor instant adoration. Just be there. I have spent the last five weeks in a dreamy haze which I will try to make sense of without reverting to too many stale stereotypes...

It's easy to conform in Paris, the city almost begs anyone who stays longer than a few days to live the Paris way, to fit neatly into its scene, to move routinely to its pulse. No, scrap that, it inspires anyway who stays longer than a few days to live the Parisian way. To dress well for the supermarket, to walk purposefully towards a destination while still stopping every now and then to notice something beautiful, to perch tentatively on a Moped and ride the footpaths, to drink and eat with joy, patience and mindfulness, to be rude to anyone who is rude first and excite at the verbal rhetoric, to be grumpy some days, dramatic the next, to engage easily in social debate, to talk without pretense about the latest exhibition, to connect the importance of art and history to everyday life, to be protective of the French culture but to complain tirelesssly of its policies, but most of all to be energised and excited about life. The French call it joie de vivre.

But not just life's typical pleasures are embraced in this concept. Sadness, anger, and a sense of injustice are not emotions to be neglected in this city. They are what ignites the fuel to live with fervour, to give life its oomph. And in Paris no one hides these feelings because no one is scared of them. Afterall, the best art and music can be inspired by the most intense negative emotions. The historical social changes have been carried by eruptions of these feelings. I think the city itself, its close physical confines, architecture, history, contemporary culture, it's all out on display. It's like the city screams "Here I am, take it or leave it!" You would be crazy to leave it. Paris knows this, it has a confidence that allows such ultimatums. The same can be said of the people. They say, "This is me, me on a bad day, me on a good day, either day it's still me. Take it or leave it!"

Well, this attitude unsuprisingly gives a person a wonderful sense of freedom. With such confidence, of being unafraid to make negative impressions, to welcome strong emotions, to never be embarrassed to speak their mind, a person can feel an energy and waitlessness they have never experienced before.

I am in love, in love with this city because of how it makes me feel, this very energy and waitlessness. And I speak of love, not infatuation. I have been infatuated before on this trip. No, when it's infatuation it's promoted by a distance and coldness. Or better, an untennableness, like I want to understand but never will, because the place hides and wont show me. But love, love is only felt when there is more than a sense of wonder. Like with people, love is felt when there is fearlessness, because there is the knowldege of acceptance and a deep respect. Paris is not distant nor cold. It likes the way it is, wants the world to be Paris and hence will share it with any visitor. It will always treat the romantic well. Do not believe otherwise.

I came knowing I would like this city, I had been here before. But to experience this relationship with a place other than home is a gift and the beginning of what I feel will be a life-long love affair. It may be a long-distance affair, but it will always be love.