I can tell you a thing or two about Paris, France [Erin edition]...

Erin Grimson is no stranger on this blog. I'm proud to call this artful eye and warm soul a best friend of mine. No longer does she live across the street in our quaint corner by the railroad tracks in Tennessee--she lives in Paris. One day she messaged me she was leaving haute couture class. Yeah, me too. 

I hope you enjoy this personal glimpse of Paris. I've done several bits and tastes of Paris in the past, but this one has the experience and perspective of a more long-term resident. The beauty of Paris, however, is that even a passerby gets it. It's the most magical city. 

Enjoy the 12th arrondissement of Paris, France.   

What’s a day of yours look like?

Thursday is my favorite day of the week. No class till 1, so I’m up early for tea and breakfast before I head out for the day. I’m sure people think I’m crazy when I’m out wandering. I’m always hauling around my  huge bag bursting with journals and art textbooks with both of my cameras over my shoulders and a ridiculous smile on my face. I’ll spend the morning wandering side streets, meeting new people, dodging into a café for some quiet reading and a café au lait. 

Every Thursday, my History of Modernism class meets in various museums around Paris. Last week we spent the afternoon in L’Orangerie, scribbling notes about the careers of Cézanne and Rousseau… while we stood before some of their greatest works. Afterwards, my professor sent us upstairs for a few moments of reflection with Monet’s Water Lilies. 

Come mid afternoon, I’m famished. So I’ll usually slip into the nearest boulangerie for a pain au chocolat or a quiche. Then, wandering and exploring. I walk and walk and end up in the most fantastic places. I make notes of places where I want to return; I document everything. Evenings consist of simple, warm meals and maybe a drink out with friends (often at La Crocodille in the Latin Quarter- our current favorite). Every night I fall into bed in complete disbelief at the routine I’m in right now.

 What are the people like? Do you like the people? Do you feel like one of them?
The French are a different breed. They have different rules about personal space. They eat differently, socialize differently, carry themselves differently. None of this makes them cold or rude. They are methodical and calm. They have a more somber, collected exterior than Americans do. Beneath this mystery, however, is a truly inviting and kind nation of people. I love to get lost in a crowd, so I’ve been feeling so at home through just becoming another face and occasionally getting to know a local or two even just for a moment.

What makes you fulfilled to be where you are? What’s fun? What’s not fun? Tell us a funny story.

Making a life here is empowering. Setting goals for myself, making huge mistakes, feeling integrated into this city. The small victories are what make me feel the most fulfilled. I carry out a conversation with a stranger in French- YES. I’m stopped and asked for directions by tourists- CHECK. I create an image that I’m genuinely proud of- BOOM. Of course the little wins come with lots of big losses. For instance, sometimes you think you’re en route to “like the cutest little French flea market EVER.” However, you end up on the wrong side of the 18^th in a seedy bar pouting over a below-average croque-madame.

 

Have you traveled around the area? What’s that like? Any discoveries?

Last weekend, some friends and I made a trek out to Chartres. Sweetest, tiny village just an over an hour southwest of the city by train. We spent the whole day wandering through cathedrals, chocolatiers, cobblestone streets and charming gardens. It was a welcomed change of pace from the rush of Paris.

Are you inspired, contented and happy with your surroundings. Or are you aching for home, wherever that may be?

I’m currently enjoying being fully present in this city. I long for my loved ones back home, but the support and encouragement I get from them makes me feel free to soak up every opportunity here. Homesickness can be paralyzing. I’m starting to understand how fortunate I am to have people in my life who want me to chase this dream.

What is yummy to eat there? What is not yummy to each there?

Rules for eating in Paris:

1. Get a hold of yourself and get out of the Starbucks line. Seriously.
2. Side streets all the way. Eating at a café on a busy corner means paying for your real estate. Something off the beaten path with be much cosier and far cheaper.
3. If the menu is mostly in English, you’re not doing in right.
4. Try the “weird, Frenchy” stuff. Snails are yummy, y’all.
5. Get off your high horse and eat the pastry. You don’t know when you’ll be back in Paris, two (or seven) macaroons won’t kill you.
6. Café allongé is the closest thing you’ll get to a mug of American coffee, but do the right thing and treat yourself to a café crème.

What can we glean from your travels/new home? Tell us a story.

Before I left, I had a pretty heavy conversation with my parents. I sat across a table from them in tears, telling them that I was terrified. I told them that I was scared out of my skin and so ready to go after this time. To prove to myself that I am capable. To get away, get lost, fight with myself, get to know the person I’m created to be. I sat in a café with dear friends last night when a couple of street musicians wandered inside and began to play. “Non, Je ne Regrette Rien” filled the restaurant. Everyone eating around us set down their forks and knives, put aside their drinks and sang together. A few rose from their seats and began to dance, the room swayed. I exhaled deeply and tried to gather up every detail I could about that moment. I’m doing this. I’m here and living and learning and have this new place to leave part of myself.

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Thanks, Urn. Your words are what dreams are made of.