Revisiting Paris

The first stop on my two-week adventure is none other than France’s capital. You’re probably thinking: Jasmine, why would you spend time visiting a city you have already lived in? Well, dear reader, the answer is this: the Jonas Brothers had the final show of their comeback tour here. No further explanation needed.

I gave myself a day and a half to run around Paris, thinking that I could revisit my old home really for the first time since moving to Lyon with the same wonder and excitement that I’d always had. But it was… strange. Revisiting Paris can only be described in this way: it’s like revisiting somebody you used to love. I was flooded with memories of my time here, but both Paris and I have changed, which is, after all, inevitable. I’m delighted that I have grown into the woman I am today, but I am no longer the same person I was when I moved to Paris in January of 2018. But it is strange feeling like I’ve moved past Paris, especially when (to continue the analogy) I thought I would spend the rest of my life here. There was time away, and now I’m back, and nothing is exactly as it was.

When I wander the streets of Paris, I have many mixed feelings. I am submerged in memories, drawing myself back to a time when this was my playground and everything was shiny and new. I am nostalgic for that period in my life, but it’s bittersweet because I know I will never be able to recreate that incredibly special time. And while returning to Paris feels like watching a movie of my old life, I am simultaneously seeing Paris through new eyes. Most of the time when I’m in the city, I am overjoyed- even seeing the font of the metro signs can crack a smile on my face. But this time was different, and I can’t quite figure out why. Perhaps it’s because this is the first time that I am visiting Paris since moving to Lyon (I have been back four times, but I spent those weekends with friends and therefore wasn’t trekking around the city). This was the first time that I have been alone in Paris for more than an hour since I made my little life in Lyon, and Paris is so completely different to me now. I think that when I first came here for my study abroad, I was soaking in all the aspects of France that I could. It was a double exposure: the glamour of Paris and the thrill of living in another culture were layered over each other in my mind. But, now that I have lived in another French city, that ‘newness’ of French culture is no longer present. And, because of that, Paris doesn’t seem as… genuine. It seems over-hyped, flashy and big and at times… unpleasant? I still love Paris, and I know that this is where I want to spend the rest of my life, but I feel so disconnected from the way I used to think about the city that I feel almost put-off. That could be completely due to the fact that I spent my time on the first day walking from Trocadéro to the Arc de Triomphe and then down the Champs Elysées to the Louvre, all areas that I rarely spent time in while studying here, and which is a part of Paris that is FULL of tourists and seems like the least authentic part of the city there is. When in return to Paris, I usually spend my time in the Marais and the Latin Quarter and Bastille area (also where I used to spend the majority of my time)- seeing the other side of the city felt plain weird. It’s like I’d broken free from the spell cast on me from the time I lived there.

When I was deciding where to live in for TAPIF, I knew that returning to Paris was not an option: the obvious reason was I wouldn’t make enough money to support myself in the incredibly expensive city, but the reason that rang clear in my head was that I wanted to get to know the ‘real’ France. I know that Paris is not a true representation of all of France, in the same way that New York and Los Angeles do not represent all of America. There is so much more to France than just Paris, which is something I think we Americans often forget. I chose Lyon because I thought that I would get the authentic French experience (or, at least an experience different from that offered in Paris). Before arriving in Lyon, I spent a few days in Paris, and while I returned to my old stomping grounds and wandered around the city I had once called home, I was worried that I had gotten myself into something I wouldn’t like. What if I left the polished, glimmering Paris and hated what France really was? What if the only reason I was so drawn to France was the glitz and glamor of Paris? What if I didn’t like the ‘American’ version of France, the one we created that basically consists of the Eiffel Tower and person with a striped shirt, beret, and baguette in hand? I was afraid that I wouldn’t like what I found on the other side of Paris’s blue-gray rooftops.

Instead, I have found the exact opposite. I have loved every French city I have been to for the reason that it’s not Paris- I’m seeing all these new versions of what France is, and I have enjoyed each one of them. It makes me excited to visit more cities and discover the other versions of France- the fairytale buildings of Strasbourg, the cliffs of Étretat, the wine country of Bordeaux, the Calanques of Marseille, everything!

While spending two days in the capital, I came to understand that I definitely don’t see Paris the same way as I used to before I moved to Lyon, and in some ways I find myself longing for Lyon. Perhaps it’s due to the fact that I am no longer a resident of Paris- I’m an outsider in this city where I once was one of them, the people that pass me on the sidewalk and eat beside me in restaurants and cross the street even when the light is red. I’m an actual tourist now, whereas two years ago, I was a hybrid between a visitor and a resident. While I may have favorite restaurants and stores and streets, while I may be able to see the metro map on the backs of my eyelids, and while I may know some neighborhoods better than some of my friends that live here, I am a tourist. I am visiting. I’m passing through. And that’s something bizarre to wrap my head around.

There are days when I find myself longing for Paris while I’m in Lyon (mostly due to the lack of things- Paris has so many more things than Lyon: museums, people, restaurants… the number of vegetarian options in my city compared to the plethora of vegetarian cuisine in Paris is abysmal), yet when I’m in Paris, I find myself missing the comfort of Lyon. The easiness of life. It’s just as beautiful down in Lyon, but it’s calmer than the gray hustle of Paris. It’s more charming. The people (and the weather) don’t seem so off-putting.

Maybe this is the problem with leaving little pieces of myself to so many different cities: I’ll never truly feel complete in one place. I’ll always be missing a little bit of all the places I’ve lived in. But isn’t that a good thing? Doesn’t that mean that I was happy there? I think that’s better than living somewhere and hating it. And, who knows? Maybe when I move back to Paris, I will change my mind. Maybe I’ll become a real Parisian and learn to hate Paris. But for now, I’ll just sit with my coffee and think about how lucky I am to be back.