La vie en rose

     Now that the novelty of riding the métro has long-since worn off, we have a love-hate relationship. I’ve started taking round-about ways of getting around instead of taking the seemingly logical, American straight-shot across town, just to avoid frequents stops at the nightmares known as Montparnasse-Bienvenüe and Châtelet, because most of the time I’d honestly rather waste a half hour on a detour than fight my way through swarms of people who just stand there on the moving sidewalks. I’m also not the biggest admirer of that one person who smells like rotten eggs who always makes an appearance when the train is full and there’s no way out. But despite my gripes with other passengers’ hygiene, I don’t know what I’d do without the métro, because it really is the most convenient way of going anywhere in Paris. What will I do when I go back to Minneapolis and there’s only the Hiawatha line?

     I was asked a few times before coming here if I could imagine living in Paris after my semester and the answer just came to me: Yes. In a heartbeat. I think Americans are always in search of Audrey Hepburn’s Paris; the Paris without lines, pollution, or bad weather. But it really doesn’t exist. Paris is imperfect, it is always raining and no one is singing “Bonjour Paris” throughout town. Tourists are able to avoid being hazed by Paris- they live in hotels, speak their own language and leave before things turn sour. Now that I actually live in Paris, it’s completely different than the memories of Paris I had of my last visit and my ideas of what this would be like. Life is harder than at home, yes, but it's so much more normal here than I expected, too. My frustrations have already peaked and I think I could honestly live with crunchy, line dried towels, room temperature water, and without proper chips and salsa, because I love most everything else and the availability of outrageously good croissants and wine more than makes up for it. Eating breakfast under the Eiffel Tower while on an assignment from my boss, sitting in the sun in the Place des Vosges today at lunch and walking home from the Montparnasse cemetery (10 minute walk) are just a few of the little moments of bliss that I’ve had in the last week that make it hard for me to think about how my days here are numbered. I spent a half hour at my internship looking at jobs in Paris, desperate for a way to stay. I hardly think a semester is long enough to improve my French as much as I want to- I’m still not able to be funny yet. My coworkers must think I’m the most serious person ever.

     But for the time I have left, I’ll just have to profiter au maximum, as they say. 

Rachel

Croissants under the Eiffel Tower. 

Montmartre at dusk