A Reflection Essay on My Time in Paris: Time Affluence

There are only twenty-four hours to each day and yet, as we know from research we all experience time differently not just compared to one another but also when we go through the different seasons of life. For many of us, when living through a terrible event, time seems to halt and prolong. Each second seemingly ticking slower and slower. The times of comfort are too fleeting. But quite beautifully, this concept of time affluence highlighted by Arianna Huffington, was a reality of my time spent in Paris. 

Walking mindlessly through the streets without any seriously planned destinations in my mind, I would aim with the general direction of a certain arrondisement and some things I wanted to accomplish. Not major things. But certainly, the time to write a little at the café on the corner of Saint Germain des Pres. Maybe, putting my feet up near the main fountain of Jardin Tuileres or Palais Royale. Or even to take a moment and savour a gooey éclair from Maison du Chocolat on one of the green lounging benches of the city’s mystical parks. With my friend Clara, we took to the task of exploring. Our lack of planning and major intentions brought us to some of the most magical places and as they say, certain places we stumbled upon, the city’s hidden treasures called upon us. I think that beauty of taking time is unparalleled in France. Where this concept of time heavily infused the layers of my lived experiences and life philosophies. What was it about it here that made it so tranquille, so peaceful, so down to earth and in the present moment? I had never felt such a groundedness. An anchoring of mind and body to being completely aware of each lingering second but not to feel rushed as it slipped away through my fingers. To feel completely myself to the tips of my fingers and to the crooks and nannies of my whole being. Life was hectic in the sense of rushing to class, being hustled against a lot of tourists, and racing to complete an onslaught of challenging but rewarding assignments at Sciences Po. But amidst it all, time seemed to cascade carefully and elegantly around me. Taking its pleasure to relish in the moments of stopping by the rose bushes in Palais Royale to fully capture each budding beauty’s scent. It took its time to engage with each shop owner or restauranteur to listen to their eloquent and passionate English and French. 

This state of utter bliss was centrally founded upon this new discovery of time I had found in France. I watched the locals close their eyes to the sun in the Luxembourg lounging chairs. I listened to the animated conversations for hours inside and outside terraces of restaurants, cafes, bars, and brasseries. The quick skidded glance across a shoulder, the subtle bisous, the longing gazes of lovers saying goodbye, the embraces, the brief touches of arms and shoulders, all of it was an extension of time. Of people telling another, I’ve got you, I’m here to stay to listen, to talk, and to laugh. 

It got me thinking about time on a macro level. Time in Paris was centralized powerfully through the connections between people and their communities but it sparked through their commerce and their politics. During my time, the escalations between police and the gillet juanes occurred every Saturday. Hearing, seeing, and feeling quite literally the stomping of people in many of the protests and riots signified a growing fear not just in myself but in the surroundings. Yet, there was also a type of admiration on my part. Admiration for the time people invested into politics and their belief in their own powers to bring about change. Learning from the country on how they used their voices to keep power accountable. Obviously, whether methods undertaken should have occurred or should be celebrated themselves are questionable. But this wasn’t something I saw often in the quiet suburbs of Vancouver where I had grown up. 

You see, when I was walking into shops to engage with these different store owners or sales associates, I was given time. I never felt rushed. And most often, while I would window shop, I would get an experience in itself. To touch the different fabrics. To smell or taste the varieties of cheeses. To embrace the wafts of freshly baked baguettes while standing in amazement before the spreads of handcrafted desserts. Each store was the epitome of time itself. Of the craft, dedication, pride, and love each baker, shoe maker, hat creator, etc put into every item. What does it feel like then when you walk into a store and you engage dans le francais and you get to hear the excitement that comes from another being encountering their creations? It’s magic. It felt like it was forever. It felt like I was in a slow-motion movie being given the opportunity to experience every small moment in splendid detail. 

It was those small moments that made that time living in Paris, the best of my life. What does it feel like to live each moment, completely fixated in the present? To not be caught up in the past or to feel pressure from the unknowing future. Despite, not knowing anyone in the city before going, I found trinkets of things to hold onto. The kind people who would teach me French, give me directions, or treat me to food over the course of certain solo travelling trips. No matter how much of a rush my French friends were in, whether on their way to the metro or to catch a class, they always gave me la bisous and that was plenty of love and time for me in a given day. 

Strolling mindlessly through Le Marais or climbing the wobbly streets of the Montmarte, it felt like time transcended into forever. Knowing that my time would come to an end during my last weeks, seemingly kept the days constant; time felt the same for the most part. Until the last evening before my day of departure where I felt time would never be enough in the sense that I could live in this magical haze for the rest of my days and never feel replenished for a thirst I had never experienced before. 

The city grows on you so strongly that if you are unable to stay forever, you will be nudged into doing so by your heart. Perhaps, that is why those who have been will keep returning. I felt a little bit more abundantly there. Somehow. It was like every moment and every memory was stained vividly in my mind. The five senses taking their time in solidifying my experiences. It must have been the way I took the time to stop and smell the flowers. To try with every bit of my being to live the way the locals do. And looking back now, it was never much any effort to belong. It was a natural unfolding and collapsing into a singular form of being. Maybe, it was always who I was. Maybe, I became a better version of myself. I’ll never know. But this distance that separates me from the city of light will continue to make my heart grow fonder. However, in essence, it isn’t this longing and the tragic missing of Paris that saddens me the most, it is the way that I experienced time. It was a time in my life, where I felt invincible. Forever young, grateful, and loved. 

---

It was the way the musicians sang or played music that flew around you so lightly like the music notes were dancing on tiptoes across the Seine. It was the way when it got so hot and the stench got pretty bad but you smiled like an idiot anyways. It was the quirky metro stations and the not-so-quirky ones. It was the way that you just walked and you would stumble across famous things. It was the way the women said “ooop” when they helped you with clothing or by demonstrating their jewelry on your trembling but ecstatic neck and wrists. It was that first bite of Pierre Herme's cake. Such delicacy in the mixing of bursting flavours. It was the small droplets of fountain water that would spray onto your face when it got windy. It was the addictive and endless watching of passers-by on Boulevard Saint Germain. It was the breeze and smell of fresh-cut grass during spontaneous picnics. It was the way freshly squeezed OJ from Franprix tasted like 2.99. It was the way the city felt when it rained. It was the smell of Camembert stinking up your room but loving it anyways. It was the speed at which delicious French cuisine would arrive before you had even started putting words to paper or flipped a page. It was the way the families and lovers would come together each day in the parks and the terraces. It was the little kids dressed to the nines just for a walk in the park. It was the moments of just sitting along the Seine and allowing your taste buds the luxury of some good red. It was walking through the markets and stopping to smell the veggies and to try the sausages.  

It felt like coming to know someone you love and wanting to spend the rest of your life hoping to explore every single thing that brought them into being. Inside and out. Past, present, and future. It felt like the way you swam for so long and you had no more fight in you but you come gasping for air. Out of the water and wide-eyed because you could see again, you could breathe again, and most importantly you could feel again. It felt like the moment you really knew this was your song. The way your body tingled and your body moved with the rhythm and your heart sang wide open. It felt like the comfort in counting the footsteps and tracking the specificities of the gait of your family members during the morning routine. It felt like falling in love, hating it, and then collapsing into their arms without any regrets. It was like winning the lottery but coming to the realization you already had everything you ever needed. Right there in front of you. 

It's vivid and priceless. These memories that I safeguard. But one day they will just become a distant past. Even now, they’re nothing more than the past. If it’s anything I’ve learned in France, it’s just that. The past is the past. And so I am with treasuring my present moments until I am lucky to come across being in Paris again.

5 Months in France: Exchange Reflection 

Things I’ve Learned:

-savouring the present moment

-appreciating a different aspect of time 

-the journey of getting somewhere, is as, if not more important than the end destination 

-going with the flow, sometimes the best aspects of life are the unexpected, unplanned treasures that you wouldn’t have discovered from meticulously planning everything

Different cultural nuances:

-taking the time to master the art of everything:

Food, hats, gardens, talking to people

-crafting beauty takes time. Though the French presentation of everything is breathtakingly beautiful from the pruned gardens, to the blooming flowers planted just in time for spring, to the delicately balanced hats on the monsieurs and the artful air of the madame’s scarves, everything takes precious time, talent, and effort to perfect 

What I Loved:

-the people: the kindness with which people would delve into helping me. Whether this was the post office people trying to find the best and most cost-efficient ways of mailing. The store owners who would find clothing pieces that would really suit me for affordable prices

-the jaw dropping architecture

-the fast deliverance of top notch, mouth-watering, and quality food

-the DESSERT. Pierre Hermé and Maison au Chocolat I miss you dearly already

-long walks along the Seine

-closing my eyes to the sun and allowing my heart to bud open under the skies in the Luxembourg or Tuilieres Gardens

-walking through the bustly and charming streets of Le Marais

-subjecting myself to the “long” metro rides and hard climbs to Montmarte but realizing that was one of its specialities and what’s not to like

-la bisou.

-the people crowding the Seine, gardens, and overflowing terraces at any possible moment 

-the smell of fresh baked bread

-the freshest, sweetest, and most succulent strawberries I’ve ever had from that special street in the Marais parallel to the secret garden across Bontemps

-the museums! Can I ever get enough of Impressionism art? No. Can I ever get enough of craning my neck so hard to gape at the ceiling? No. Can I ever get enough of following over the stairs in shock at the history and majestic talent of humanities greatest artists or creators? Nope. 

-walking without too much of a plan with Clara throughout the various arrondisements 

Things I’ve Learned About Myself:

-that I really don’t have a knack of learning languages as demonstrated through the kind attendees or shop managers who taught me repetitively the pronunciation of certain words or phrases

Things I developed through France:

-not taking myself too seriously

-not taking others too seriously (having less expectations for people and life in general). I learned how much entitlement I felt from living life in this checklist mode. How that if I ticked off all the boxes of “doing things right” then life or God should do this or this should lead to that. A very meritocratic belief that was adjusted accordingly during my five months in France. You can do everything right in life and things don’t have to work out. No one owes you anything. Especially God or life. In the same way, choosing to believe that means that people in my life don’t have to treat me a certain way. I can only change my perceptions. I’ve learned the very hard way that changing myself is difficult enough therefore, changing others is even more difficult to manage. I can do my best to help those I love and care for if I really believe something problematic is underlying their actions, intentions, or thoughts but at the end of the day, I aim to focus on my perceptions. It is first through how I value myself and treat myself that others will follow. Of course, I choose relationships and work on relationships that have mutual trust, respect, and compassion. Therefore, I have been extremely fortunate to have been surrounded by people who reaffirm my worth and treat me with the respect I now know I deserve. 

-enjoying a good glass of red wine 

-recognizing quality and understanding I deserve nothing less 

-recognizing quality and understanding that I deserve to to produce it within my own life in service of others

First Times in Europe:

• Picnics + wine along the Seine or in gardens/ in front of the Eiffel tower

• Staying up till 3am at the Rothschild x SPo gala 

• Going clubbing for the first time in London ( I know, shocking because definitely not my thing but surprisingly, very posh because the British apologized each time they bumped into me *apparently this is abnormal though?)

• Riding the tram when I forgot my Navigo until later on in the trip (don’t do this please because the anxiety was high and all in all, the fines!!!)

• Not washing grapes and eating them for a picnic (apparently European friends never do… très interessante)

• Aperol spritz which to be quite honest wasn’t that great

• Sitting and drinking in a garden until quite late 

• Almost missing flights or trains but making them anyway 

• Procrastinating school work because Paris ! Not intentional, but it happened

• Not doing all the readings for class :/ tsk tsk

• Going solo travelling in Italy and the South of France

• Italian ER room

Time at Sciences Po:

To be quite frank, I don’t think I got into much depth with the courses as I had hoped. I do hope that next year when I start school that I’ll be prepared? At this point in time, I’ve been away from UBC the same amount of time that I’ve been there. Extremely interesting. More propelled to dive back in and excited to learn again! 

Favourite Things in Paris

Neighbourhoods:

• Le Marais

• Montmarte

• Odeon

• Saint Germain de Pres 

• Latin Quarter

Gardens:

• Luxembourg

• Tuilieres

• Palais Royale

• Buttes Cheaumonts

• City Park Bontemps

• Place des Vosges

Museums:

• L’Orangerie

• Musée d’Orsay

• Centre Pompidou

• Musée Rodin

• Musée Picasso

• Louvre 

• Musée Dali

• Petit Palace 

• Arc de Triomphe 

Desserts:

• Pierre Hermé

• Maison au Chocolat

• Angelinas

• That bakery really close to Musée Rodin and perhaps on the way to Les Invalides

• Sucré et glacés

• That bakery in Odeon across from Paul beside that restaurant with a lot of floral coming out of it

• The mousse bar chocolate house on the street across Saint Sulpice Square that goes down from SPo (kinda)

• Maison Pradier 

• Le Valentin

Restaurants:

• Les Boites aux Lettres (Montmarte)

• Café Constant

• Lèon

• The cafe diagonally across from Bon Marché and when you turn right you’re on Rue de Rennes for Mr. Vigna’s Economic class (something along the lines of rives gauches)

• Les Antiquares

• Blue

• Pink Mamma

• Bouillon Pigalle

Cafés 

• Cafe Cuillier (Montmarte ou Saint Germain des Pres)

• Saint Pères 

• Le Valentin

• The one in the Marais with fairy lights on the ceiling really close to Pierre Hermé and the BHV 

Quick Bites

• Lili’s Brownies

• Maison Pradier

• Apègo

• Crous (11/10 for the student)

• Paul

• Cafe Basille