Paris: Fin

Although I’d taken several semesters of French, I found myself much more uncomfortable than I expected speaking French, especially after having been in Spanish mode for several months. It was a very similar experience to coming to Madrid and being forced to use Spanish in real life, and subsequently realizing that what you thought you knew is actually very little. I found I was lacking key vocabulary in French, making it hard to not look like another dumb foreigner, such as when I realized I didn’t know what the French word for “check” was and then had to mime signing a receipt to get my point across (apparently it’s “la/e note”). Or when a Frenchman at my friend’s bar asked me in around about way if I spoke French, I was able to reply with “un petit peu,” but not much else.

I did notice, however, that even after a couple days in Paris, my mind started to shift more into French, and I feel like given the opportunity to be in Paris for a decent amount of time (at least a month or two) my French would come around pretty quickly. At first, my go to response was just to answer in Spanish, like if someone asked me what I wanted and there was some confusion, he or she would indicate something, and I would respond with “sísísí” rather than “oui.” Then when I got back to Madrid, I had to stop myself from saying “oui” to Spaniards.

In the discomfort of trying to communicate across language barriers, we tend to get a little reflexive I think, to develop knee jerk reactions to get our point across, making the most of the little we know. The more comfortable we get in a language, the less awkward these knee jerks are. At this point, I feel very comfortable navigating in Spanish. Sure there are occasional hiccups, but overall, I can communicate, hold a conversation, find my way around etc. Dealing in French definitely felt like I was going back at the beginning, but I was encouraged by how quickly my ear/mind got used to being around French again.

Then of course there are the Parisians themselves, who notoriously turn their nose up at anyone who doesn’t speak French, or even anyone who isn’t Parisian. One of my friends who worked in France as a language assistant said that even if you do speak French as a foreigner, the Parisians aren’t much nicer.

And yet, the great paradox is that Paris is one of the biggest tourist sites in the world, and so you have an astounding and diverse amount of tourists, from all different parts of the world, that obviously don’t all speak French. So you have all the bad aspects of tourism, the key chains, the shirts, the berets. When I was in Budapest, I stayed with a group of Parisians in my hostel, and I talked to one of the girls (who was extremely nice and adorably French) about my trip to Paris and the bad rep that Parisians have.

She said, “I just don’t understand why we are so unable to share our city with visitors. We just don’t seem to know how.” It’s not really hard to figure out. For the most part, tourists suck. Even speaking as a tourist. I feel like anyone who travels and who is remotely conscientious of their situation has to feel at least a little dissonance, a little self-hate, at being a foreigner in someone else’s home. Combine this inherent suckiness of tourists with one of the largest tourist destinations of the world, and you’ve got a lot of suckiness on your hands, whether you’re French or not.

This all being said, you have to take some efforts to navigate the tourism in Paris. I didn’t go to the Louvre or any of the other museums. I didn’t go to Notre Dame or the Arc du Triomphe or other of the “go to places.” I still had a wonderful time. I was happy at how easily I was able to tailor my trip to my own interests, which for the most part led through the major parts of the city without getting bogged down by lines or other annoying touristisms. If you’re familiar with the show Rocket Power, the term “shoobies” seems appropriate, even if we’re not talking about sandals on a beach.

The second night I was there, I found myself unable to sleep, thinking of all the stories, all the lives lived and deaths died, the weight of grandeur that is palpable when you’re there. When you are there, you can’t do much better.

To conclude:
YES, YOU SHOULD GO TO PARIS. YES, THERE ARE A LOT OF TOURISTS. DON’T BE COMPLETELY IGNORANT OF THE FRENCH LANGUAGE. YES, FRENCH PEOPLE MIGHT NOT BE THE NICEST. YOU SHOULD STILL GO. WALK THE STREETS. DRINK WINE. EAT BAGUETTES AND CROISSANTS AND CHEESE. SIT ON A TERRACE. APPRECIATE.