Final- Letter to Paris

A Letter to My First Love 

Experiences from traveling in Paris

Paris, My Dear
      I've never had the pleasure of falling in love, but if I did, I imagine the relationship would feel much like the one the two of us have shared this summer. You pursued me with such vivacity I could hardly catch my breath. You enticed me with grandeur and beauty that left my heart racing a thousand beats per minute. In the words of one of one of my favorite Jane Austen characters, "you have bewitched me, body and soul." 

Paris, You Changed My Perspective

The only painting with a mob.
Photo by: Kimberly Chandler

      Our relationship began like any other. We went on dates and you expanded my thinking, showing me how beauty is found not just in Mona Lisa's smile, but just to the left; in the gazed over master pieces of other Da Vinci works. Bustling tourists speed by some of the most brilliantly crafted pieces of art in a mad dash to catch a glimpse of that smile. However, you have taught me to appreciate the beauty in the lesser known; In the things that have always been there, but go unseen by eyes living in fast-forward. You made me slow down in order to look for and find unsuspected treasures hidden in the mundane; like the smells of open markets and boulangeries wafting through my windows in the early mornings, taunting me from my sleep. 

Paris, You Made Me Independent
       As time moved forward and euphoria turned into routine, I became comfortable with you, Paris. I started to venture out on my own seeing things with fresh perspective; you gave me new eyes. The beggars on the streets weren't just the scammers that I was warned to avoid at all costs, but teammates with their own eunique stories, working busy corners in shifts, rotating from sidewalks to metro stations. They were actors on the world stage just like the rest of us. I finally understood what Shakespeare was saying, "they have their exits and their entrances and one man in his time plays many parts." I wonder what part I play.

                                                            Paris, You Taught Me To Communicate Without Words

Even on the darkest night, the Eiffel Tower
never loses its shine.
Photo by: Kimberly Chandler

      My lack of knowledge in the french language proved to be difficult, and yet you did not allow it to hinder my experience. On the days when I felt  lost, you translated for me, showing me that spoken language was only one form of communication. Art spoke for itself. In fact, the Eiffel Tower told me to withstand and endure without saying one word. The tower demanded my attention, exuding charm and confidence that begged my mind to engage with its rich history. In a day trip to your sister city, Normandy, I learned about how the Germans conquered you during the second world war and how through defiance and rebellion, your people would not allow the nazi flag to fly over the tower.  As the old adage says, "Hitler conquered France, but did not conquer the Eiffel Tower." With confidence and indignation, the Eiffel Tower tells me I too can resist my enemies. 





Paris, You Helped Me Appreciate French

      Although I can't speak it fluently, your native tongue still leaves me in awe at the beauty of its word choices.  Walking down the Seine I witnessed a scene play out between two musicians. A flute player began yelling at a guitarists, clearly upset that his marked territory was being tramped upon by another musician. "Tu respectes mon misère, plus que tu respectez mon musique," the flute player shouted repeatedly. After doing a little research, I translated the words to "you respect my misery more than you respect my music!"  Even in the heat of anger, the french language shoots from the lips like little bullets leaving a barrel. Simple english sayings  take on new life when spoken and translated from french. The phrase "I miss you" is tu me manque, and it's literally translated as "you are missing from me." Again, this example shows how zeal infuses your language with a passion that drips from each word like poetry.

Paris, You Taught Me Love
      Paris, the very things that make me love you, are also the things that infuriate me about you. Your busy streets, although charming, almost got me killed on several occasions as absent minded drivers sped through crosswalks and ignored traffic rules. The adorable pups that roamed the streets at the heels of their owners, left little presents in their wake that my shoes always seemed to find. Your indecisive weather patterns that changed on a whim, left me with the sniffles. You were aggravating, and I loved every minute of it. In my home city, the traffic is pretty moderate, dogs are confined to fenced in yards, and the weather is hot and cold when it's supposed to be. My home city is sensible and right for me like the boyfriend that says all the right things and treats me like I deserve, but you, Paris, are like the ex that I have screaming matches with at 3 a.m. With you I am passionate, tumultuous, and crazy and even though my boyfriend is the obvious and safe choice, it's you my mind runs to and craves to be with.

Paris, You Changed Me
      My time here is coming to a close and to say you have changed me is an underwhelming statement. Because of you, I have found my voice in a city that doesn't speak my language. My stride is still the same but my pace is different, matching the steps of those who value living in the moment and enjoying life. Like most Summer flings, they must have an ending place, but I believe this is just the end of a chapter in a book that has many more pages. I will see you again Paris. I have too much more to learn not to.