Moments in Paris

Walking through the streets of Paris on a Sunday quickly reminds you that this day was intended for rest (Saturday being more of an active day of adventure). Brunch is being served, packs of screaming kids are seen in the parks, and most businesses are closed. That is, of course, except for shops smart enough to stay open for wandering tourists, aching to spend some money. The best part about still being in the tourist stage is walking into one of these smart shops and having the pleasure of hearing an old familiar song reminding me of young elementary school days filled with knowledge of Israeli music. All I needed to hear was, "Yallah lech ha bayta moti, shalom ve toda" and I instantly knew I was drawn to this store for a good reason. Sarit Hadad has forever left an impression on me, making it particularly amusing to come across such culturally driven music in this wonderful city. Cultural diversity at its best.

And then there's the clash of cultures that we Americans sometimes excel at. As earlier noted, large obnoxious groups of American youngsters aren't very well accepted by Parisians and sitting alone on the metro as one such group came on I quickly understood why this is so. Aside from loudly and abruptly taking over the car from both ends, conversations followed as such: American Boy: "You're bag is open" American Girl: "You're mom is open" Rest of American Clan (in unison): "Ohhhhhhhh damn!"

I read an article in class describing the French as the worst tourists in the world because of their aggravation and inability to adapt to other cultures, and Americans were simply listed as generous because of their tipping (usually a result of just not knowing it is all included here), but clearly this author forgot to study American teenagers as a separate group because they would definitely take the gold medal.

Paris has its renowned landmarks like the Eiffel Tower, which is truly surreal particularly when standing under it, with it's size and magnitude and bright lights creating a breathtaking image, apart from the brutish satellite at top, which disrupts the wholesome image. The Eiffel Tower is cool, that's a given, but Carousels seem to be all the rage in Paris. In various quarters, parks, landmark areas, and simply random streets, a large brightly lit carousel stands calling kids to jump on. I won't lie I've been tempted to get on several times, but they seem almost untouchable as sacred artifacts of the city.

The French really are quite good at preserving their history especially when it includes creepy skulls and bones lying deep under the ground to remind people of all those who died from a tragic outbreak (textbook history isn't enough to convey the facts). The Catacombs not only take you through miles worth of skulls and bones literally piled on top of each other, but they also make you feel pain to get the full experience. (Take this as a warning) Leading into the Catacombs is a winding staircase preparing you for the dizziness you may soon feel and leading out of the Catacombs is yet another winding staircase with no end in sight making it hard to breathe, your legs burn, and finally, they point out the brutal truth that I am clearly not in good shape.

Most importantly, a crucial aspect to the French lifestyle which must be noted: the constant flow of wine. Wine is available as readily as water and absolutely necessary at any meal or gathering. In the States, if professors want to bribe students to come to a meeting pizza is a must, but here, a rendez-vous with our professors is promoted with wine and snacks. And in legal terms when politicians take bribes they call it pots de vin (wine jars) because the French communicate best through the language of wine. This may be a culture shock I can easily adapt to.