Itās occurring to me, as the days start clicking past faster and faster on my calendar, that I havenāt had as much of a realisation about the fact that Iām in Paris, living my dream, as I was expecting. The past two months have twirled me about, gradually unwrapping their warm summer blanket from my shoulders. And from today, as the wintry air hastens my need to buy a coat and I feel a chill, I also note that I have 12 weeks left. Time - perhaps the most curious creature there ever was.
When I was 8 or so, I remember the giddy excitement that the knowledge of upcoming travel would give me. Iād start packing weeks before, carefully setting aside my favourite items of clothing for a suitcase that was still hidden in a cupboard I was too short to reach. By the time the night before a family departure came, Iād lie in my bed, rolling from one uncomfortable position to the other, my heart pumping surges of adrenaline through me until I fell into a late sleep full of dreams about Namibia road trips or my first visit to extended family in Poland.
This past July, just before leaving for Paris, and even though my suitcase was carefully laid aside the same way it has always been, I felt my past child being pressed down with my young adult. The same excitement was not there. Instead, the concerns of taking the correct documentations with me, the idea of leaving loved ones behind, the fear of being a stranger abroad, and the anxiety that comes with having such a grand opportunity and making the most of it occupied my thoughts.
After having a wonderfully insightful conversation with my dear friend Megan - who is currently adapting to a new life in Hong Kong and resonating similar emotions - we came to the resolution that that beautiful adrenaline we felt as children may be past us now. And while that may be lamentable, something has taken its place. Because indeed, living abroad is so very different to any 3-week holiday Iāve ever experienced before. The speed, indulgence and infatuation that comes with holidays is like those first couple of weeks of dating someone new. You shave your legs for every date, he wears cologne, you donāt burp, he talks nice and you both dress your best. My 3-day stint in Paris some time ago idealized the city in my mind and made me want to come backā and it is, in so many ways, a place to be romaticised. Yet, Iāve had some time now to push the veil of romance aside, and Iām starting to see a different side to the city, to my time abroad and to myself.
I thought, surely, the wave of adrenaline and childlike happy would hit me once I arrived in Paris. And undoubtedly, since having done so, there have been jolts of pure elation ā seeing the Eiffel Tower pop up between some trees on a Sunday promenade, looking over the Haussmannian rooftops while staring out of the large glass windows at the Pompidou Modern Art Museum, or even eating dinner at a French family home - my bread soaking up the sauce from the warmed Toulouse tomatoes laden with garlic and rosemary.
Yet, as romanticized as these moments are, the rest of the time feels ā¦ in the most inexplicable of ways ā¦ well ā¦ ordinary. Itās not all Eiffel Tower sparkling lights, cobbled streets, Julia Childās recipes for lunch, and Edith Piaf on replay. Most of the time, Paris offers me dog poop on the sidewalks, graffiti on the walls and overpriced groceries. And some days, I can be grumpy or sad, I may dislike the long walks to the metro and occasionally, I just want to stay in my room and watch 30Rock. Who I am is innate, and Paris canāt change that.
Iām coming to peace with the idea that, perhaps, I wonāt have that major realisation of āOH MY, IāM LIVING IN PARIS!ā. I know that, subconsciously, I am garnering life lessons everyday and new ways of viewing myself as an individual, of viewing people, and of society. And most likely, my realization will be much more subtle, probably way in the future ā a gradual change that takes me by surprise. And thatās alright I suppose. It has to be, because I canāt seem to feel any other way.
Of course, I am doing my upmost to appreciate every second I have here, and fill my time with seeing as much as possible. Yet, the city that once had me swooned now seemingly has me swept.Ā Itās definitely love. But like dating someone, you can't be dressed up all the time, and as you get more comfortable together, you see each other in a different light. It's genuine. AndĀ right now, Iām seeing Paris, in the morning, without any make up on.
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