Is it possible to fall in love with something all over
again, even when you never stopped loving it?
I think so.
Because today, I fell in love with Paris all over again.
When I first arrived in the city, I felt a little disjointed, as if I didn’t belong. Or as if I didn’t quite have my ‘city smarts’ anymore.
I realized on the train to le centre de Paris that one of the things I love so much about metropolitan life, especially in Paris, is that it challenges your pre-conceived assumptions about people. I found myself wary of many of the men belonging to a minority at the train station, I had to laugh at myself. Here I was, a short white girl from Myrtle Beach, SC (needless to say, NOT a big city in any sense of the word) in one of the most dangerous parts of Paris. And I had to laugh at myself because I realized that in order to survive in the city, you have to let go of those hesitations and co-exist with everyone, regardless of nationality, orientation, religion, or skin color. Otherwise you’ll drive yourself mad.
Ironically, it wasn’t one of the men of whom I was initially suspicious who tried to steal my luggage.
I think so.
Because today, I fell in love with Paris all over again.
When I first arrived in the city, I felt a little disjointed, as if I didn’t belong. Or as if I didn’t quite have my ‘city smarts’ anymore.
I realized on the train to le centre de Paris that one of the things I love so much about metropolitan life, especially in Paris, is that it challenges your pre-conceived assumptions about people. I found myself wary of many of the men belonging to a minority at the train station, I had to laugh at myself. Here I was, a short white girl from Myrtle Beach, SC (needless to say, NOT a big city in any sense of the word) in one of the most dangerous parts of Paris. And I had to laugh at myself because I realized that in order to survive in the city, you have to let go of those hesitations and co-exist with everyone, regardless of nationality, orientation, religion, or skin color. Otherwise you’ll drive yourself mad.
Ironically, it wasn’t one of the men of whom I was initially suspicious who tried to steal my luggage.
Luckily, I still had my city smarts about me, for I was
sitting on the now-crowded train with my suitcase sitting parallel to me, close
to my body, my purse strung across me and sitting on my lap, with my bookbag on
the outside of my lap, with the zippers locked resting in my hand, and pulled
tightly shut.
To kill the suspense, nothing ended up happening, but I noticed two men get on the train together; one stood in front of me, and the other went to sit down about two rows behind me. By a stroke of luck, I saw the man standing in front of me make eye contact with someone behind me, lower his eyes, and ever so slightly shake his head. It was as if he was saying, “Nope, we can’t get this one."
To kill the suspense, nothing ended up happening, but I noticed two men get on the train together; one stood in front of me, and the other went to sit down about two rows behind me. By a stroke of luck, I saw the man standing in front of me make eye contact with someone behind me, lower his eyes, and ever so slightly shake his head. It was as if he was saying, “Nope, we can’t get this one."
Nevertheless, it was an eye-opener (and reminder) that I was in a large metropolitan area, and it kickstarted my hypervigilance into full gear. So thank you, would-be robber for my ‘Bienvenue à Paris.’
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