17 August, 2011

Six Moins...

Paris from Montmarte

Just over 6 months ago, I followed a slightly frail looking gray haired French man through a thick wooden door and into the slightly pungent air of the apartment I would be calling home.  6 months that feels like both a decade and a week.  Today I sit here and look around: my clothes all carrying that musty smell I had once thought of as unpleasant.  They occupy the drawers of the black and brown dresser where my old school TV sits.  My airline ticket stub and a “Welcome to your new home” card from my parents, which were hung on the closet partition, are now covered with 6 months of Parisians memories.  The kitchen holds a few less glasses I may or may not have broken and the terrace blooms green sprouts that I had planted.  Then in my closet, in the very back sits my suitcases, which today I pull out with a heavy heart.  
You see my contract for my apartment expires on Monday signaling the beginning of the end of my time here.  I won’t be heading back to the states right away.  Instead I am becoming a nomad once again heading off for a couple of weeks in Spain before returning to my Paris where I will stay with friends. 
Le Louvre from the sky

I try to push back the images of taking the flight back to the states.  I try to avoid thinking about rejoining my life there.  But the thing is nothing will ever be the same again anyhow.  My life there, nor anywhere, will ever be the same because I am not the same.  I have chased a dream but lived a reality.  The experiences I have had and continue to have will forever be emblazoned on my heart. 

 I love it here, you may have guessed.  I love way the French are so open to life and laughter.  I love the flowers in the window boxes and the random parks that seem to call to you to take a load off.  I love the fast pace of the streets, the slow pace of the market, and the way the city has no problem closing down for a month so everyone can vacation.  I love that there are 2 months out of the year everything is on sale.  I love that the city doesn’t really wake up until 11 and if you are out before that it is like having it all to yourself.  I love that I can go and see a movie in an outdoor park and enjoy a bottle of wine with my friends.  I love that they ship in sand to make a beach along the Seine every summer.  I love that a proper meal takes three hours and that the service staff are rarely in a big rush.  I love the way the French language sounds when coming from little kids.  I love that you can be in the country in 30 minutes for a calm day outside the city.  
Paris Plage
I love that clothes don’t have to match to be fashionable and that you can get a 5euro dress at a farmers market that is good quality.  I love the open-air markets that are sprinkled over the city every Sunday offering varieties of fish and ample selections of cheese.  I love seeing people walking down the street carrying a baguette in long white bags.  I love that pique-niques are common and that there are lines of bicycles for rent across the city where you can pick up and drop them off.  I love that it is hard to find an open grocer on Sunday’s. 

I could care on and on.  But I will leave you with this simple sentence. 
Mon coeur est si vivant!  

No comments:

Post a Comment