Parisian Encounters

Entering my 4th week in Paris I have begun to get a good fundamental understanding of my surroundings. Parisian tendencies and normalcies are starting to make more sense to me, and I am beginning to develop a very fond liking for the area that for the next few months I will be calling home.  Language however is still tricky for me, I have begun to pick up on some of the colloquial phrases, and I have started to gain more confidence in my speech. I have noticed that the most useful and somewhat intruding comprehension technique is to listen to people's conversations around me and try to pick up what they are saying. One typical Wednesday after class two classmates and I went out to explore and find a place to get espresso.  We were in search of a cafe with wifi, but found instead a quaint coffee place not a block away from our residence. The cafe owner behind the counter was busy preparing the food for the lunch menu,  fixing boisson chauds, and entertaining locals in conversation. We found the small environment inviting and the smell of freshly ground espresso intoxicating.  The chairs at the table we sat at were round on top like the work out balls at the gym, but they were flat at the bottom, so they could be stationary, weird to picture I know. I got up to order a drink from the bar, and a man at the counter noticed my lack of diction and obvious non-native dialect; he asked (in french) if I was a student studying near-by because there was a school room on the other side of the cafe.  I told him that I go to school a few streets away and I am here to learn french. Of course like every Parisian, he was correcting almost everything I said, but he was very sweet about it, and I could tell that he was glad that I was making such an effort. I went back to my table a few feet away with my drink and the man kept talking to me and my fellow classmates. We told him that we were americans and he seemed intrigued, he spoke some english himself and we proceeded from there speaking a variety I like to call Franglais. The man, named Charles ( Charrrll) told us that he was a painter and had a studio in the neighborhood, he was dressed head to toe like a vrai Parisian. He had on an orange sweater, and blue blazer, slacks, nice shoes, but most notable were the John Lenon shaped glasses he was wearing with the thick, black rims. He was older, and balding, with a slight gap between his two front teeth. His dress and mannerisms was altogether charming. It was as if the man embodied the cafe itself. Modern, eclectic, with a hint of charming warmth to make you feel invited in. We discussed a range of subjects, he told us he had studied for a while in Japan, we were talking about rent control in city apartments, and we were mutually correcting each other's speech as we would switch from English to French. The man behind the counter was also joining into the conversation, poking fun at Charles for his "bavard-ness" (chattiness). My guess is that Charles doesn't exactly have to be invited into a conversation to join one. We all finished our drinks and sat for a few more minutes talking and describing our studies, Charles said he had to go, and then we all left at around the same time.  I very much enjoyed our short encounter with Charles. He was a perfect example of how many Parisians defy the stereotype that they are cold and snouty.  I feel that many of the youth fit the stereotype better than some of the older people, and I find that odd. Maybe it's just the youth themselves who are more stand-offish. I hope to have more encounters like this one in the future. 

Parisian definition of "old".

So for my first couple blogs I am going to resort to expressing myself in English because my French abilities, while getting better, are not quite at the level I want in order to truly answer the questions at hand. After going to Museé Cluny and the Roman gladiator ruins, the words old and ancient have a new connotation. I have previously been to Italy and seen the Coliseum and the Pantheon and other historic landmarks of the past and present.  I went there when I was twelve years old, so I don't think I quite got the full effect or grandeur of how ancient Italy actually is. Yet because I was twelve, everything looked so much larger from that perspective in comparison to now.  Paris is full of historical landmarks. Some are large and famous like Notre Dame, and others might be the building that is now a café across the street. Old to Parisians could mean 50 years ago or 500 years ago. Americans can't even fathom 500 years back, because the USA wasn't in existence. When Americans are asked about our heritage, we say German or Italian or whatever, and that usually means some kind of immigration and mixing of heritages happened. Yet in France, you can talk to someone whose family has been living in the same house for 100 years or more!
The integration of the old and new culture is incredible to me. What is even more incredible is how casual and common it is to all the Parisians to be surrounded by such history, beauty, and culture.  Parisian culture has evolved along with the rest of the world, adapting to the growth of commerce and international trade, industrialized technology, the advancements in communication, and the natural progression of living standards that occur over a vast period of time; yet there is something distinctly Paris about being in this city. The city itself has character, and the character is apparent in it's inhabitants. It's something about the architecture, the buildings are formal looking and grand. Almost every building looks like it could be some kind of state capital, yet when you look at the details, such as the figures engraved along the top, or the use of different stones in the pillars, you realize that there is so much beauty and attention to detail, in what looks like a capital or rigid structure.  What is has made me realize is that every city, not matter how old, has character. Coming from America, which is still a relatively "new" country, it is easy to see why the Europeans could look down on us for lacking what they would call "history" and "culture", yet after noticing the differences between people here and people in America, it would be impossible to say that America's history, although much shorter, lacks depth.
Being in a foreign environment makes me notice all the things about myself that make me a foreigner. First and foremost is language. Almost anywhere you go in Europe, you are likely to meet people that speak multiple languages.  Due to American isolation we have been limited to needing just one language, which has it's benefits, yet it makes you stand out like a sore thumb in some situations when you are forced to resort to "Parlez-vous anglais?".  The second indicator would be the way I dress. Parisian women, no matter how old, looks so put together and almost like they just stepped out of a magazine. The third indicator would be my lack of manners, there is almost a French code to manners, it's like their secret second language. Never will you find a French person in a restaurant with their coat on, never will you see a French person with their elbows on the table, never will you see a French person chew with your mouth full.. and the list goes on. In America, it is looked down upon to not present class when dining, but in France it is shamed. After my first two weeks here, I am already starting to feel much more at home. It makes me realize why I came here and what I love to study and watch most, people and cities. Coming from a city like San Diego to Paris forces me to compare and contrast the people and the environment, two things I am obsessed with analyzing. So far Paris is amazing, yet I could sure go for a burrito right about now! Jusqu'á la prochaine fois!