Featured image is Eiffel Tower at night in Paris, France. Captured by Madeline Mulligan.
This weekend, I went to Paris for the first time! I've gotten the hang of traveling solo by now, I even restrained from staring out the window in awe while the plane took off and my city got smaller and smaller right in front of my eyes. That's right, I just nonchalantly read my book. I'm so well traveled that the existence of an international flight system isn't even a big deal to me anymore (ok, it totally is, but more on that another time).
I arrived in Paris and checked into my hostel mostly without issues. Obviously, you relinquish certain luxuries when traveling on a budget. Booking the cheapest possible hostel and the cheapest possible room (10 beds with mixed genders for 12 euro a night) sometimes leads to stained sheets when you arrive, and the fire alarm sounding in the middle of the night. Despite this, it was a good hostel for what I paid for and I even made a friend. I woke up in the morning refreshed and ready to seize the day.
My first official day in Paris started with a free walking tour. I learned about art nouvea at the theatre athnee and the three animals of the Paris opera, which are the catfish in the underground pond, the bees in the beehives on the roof, and "les petits rats" (the little rats), the children in the ballet school whose scurrying feet sound like little mice. We hit all the major sights and ended at Concord Square, where I walked over to Madeleine (my namesake) and took a picture with literally everything in sight with my name on it.
I was feeling ambitious after this and, upon learning that the cost was only 5 euro if you take the stairs (15 euro for the elevator was way too pricey), I decided to climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower. I was there a mere 670 steps later and it was mesmerizing. The day was absolutely stunning, warm and clear, and Paris looked beautiful. It was like living in a dream. To really be at the top of the Eiffel Tower? In Paris?? My whole life Paris had been a faraway place, with old houses covered in vines, and 12 little girls in two straight lines (the smallest one was Madeline). To be here, in the flesh, was surreal. It did not matter to me that I was doing the most basic thing that American study abroad students do, and that Europe is overrated, and that thousands of tourists do this every day (these are the most common reactions that I get to my experiences). It did not matter because I was in Paris, the city of light, and it was beautiful.
Apparently climbing 670 steps is rather tiring, so afterwards I went and checked into my second hostel and took a nap. Afterwards, I met up with Eléonore, a wonderful friend of mine, whom I had met while she studied abroad in the United States last year. We went to her friends apartment and ate mouth-watering homemade vegetarian curry. I have been very aware of the differences in conversation that I have with native english speakers and non native english speakers lately. At dinner, instead of gossip or small talk, my new friends shared their unique perspective on the world with me: having parents that don't speak the same language, how chickens are key to preventing scorpions from entering your house, the pros and cons of tourism during the Cambodian rainy season, as well as their outside impressions of Americans. Apparently it is a common stereotype that Americans are friendly and easy to make acquaintance with, but forming a deep relationship with them is nearly impossible.
After dinner, Eléonore and I went to meet up with the friends I met in the hostel for drinks. We had a great time sharing more unique world perspectives and I even added a new book titled to my "I swear I'll get through someday" reading list. We stayed until the bar closed, then got some Nutella crepes (a necessity at 3 am).
The first day of December showed me an entirely different side of Paris. I woke up naturally early, to my surprise, and had an amazing breakfast of fresh bread and fruit in my hostel. One of the girls at breakfast was born in the same hospital as me in the US! (Overlake Medical Center) Impulsively, I decided to jump on a train to Versailles to start my day. This turned out to be an expensive decision, as I was caught by the guard at the train station without a proper ticket and made to pay a hefty 35 euro fine. To think of all the things I could have bought with that 35 euro... LESSON LEARNED.
I did another free walking tour of Notre Dame upon return to the city, and it was great, but by this time in the day the temperature was dropping and it was raining so I was not in the mood to appreciate the architecture. (Edit: little did I know that it would burn down less than 4 months later). Fortunately, Eléonore rescued me and we took refuge in a cozy french bistro with mulled wine, fresh bread, and french onion soup. Neither of us had the stamina to endure the cold again, so we retreated to the hostel and passively absorbed french history by watching (and singing along) to Les Miserables.
*Interruption for a funny story* My hostel, Pariscoree, was absolutely lovely. Clean, cozy, ideally located, the works. However, I was the only non-Asian person staying here. Every other person was Asian, and most people were from Korea. In fact, every employee I met working there was Korean, they made us take shoes off and put on Asian slippers at the door, and the wifi password involved Korean characters. I could not figure out why this was, nothing in the description of the hostel had mentioned any of this at the time of booking. I even mentioned to Eléonore that there must be some sort of secret code that indicated this hostel was a place for the Korean community. When we arrived at the hostel, she gave me a funny look. "Coree" is Korean in French. The reason that there were so many Koreans staying there is because the name of the hostel is Korean Paris...needless to say I was a little embarrassed but definitely less confused! *We now return you to your regularly scheduled program*
Word on the extent of the damage from the Paris riots started trickling in through the hostel rumor mill by the evening. Curious, Eléonore and I decided to investigate. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. Picturesque streets that I had walked just yesterday were now caked with spray paint and broken glass. The stench of burned cars was stifling. I come from a peaceful country and have been exposed to very little violence in my life. I have never seen raided banks, rows of storefronts with their windows shattered, or tear gas canisters. For the first 15 minutes we took pictures of everything, but after counting over 40 burned cars, it became clear that we would never be able to photograph all the damage that we saw. There were more police cars than I had ever seen in my life, and it seemed like every inch of the city had been affected.
Overall, I am glad I got exposed to unrest. It burst my bubble of blissful European weekend trips. It reminded me to engage in the culture of the countries that I visit, to embody my duty of a well educated global citizen over that a tourist. It reminded me that this city is not a fleeting destination, but the core of many people's lives. Lastly, it reminded me that the people have a voice, that civilization is constantly changing, that our entire existence is basically trial and error.
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