To All The Places - Paris
Dear Paris,
The old saying is true. Chacun a deux pays: le sien et la France. Everyone has two countries: their own and France.
We finally met.
For many years, I admired you from afar. Like most people, everything I knew about you I gathered from books and movies. Roses pave your streets. An oasis for migrating love birds from across the globe. If love was a destination, it would be you.
Visiting you with the love of my life was the most thrilling adventure. It was like living in a book. And what a joy it was to see you in your golden hour. When all your leaves were like strokes of gold yellow, blissful orange, and groovy brown paint. You are beautiful in the fall.
We landed at Charles de Gaulle around eight in the morning, bright and early. We walked the terminals with clear eyes and full hearts. Pregnant with expectations of dreams about to come true. Our Uber driver was a kind elderly man, from Cambodia. He moved to Paris fourteen years ago. He learned french by listening to the radio and conversing with his passengers. KiKi, my sweet love, has dreamed of seeing the Eiffel Tower since she was a little girl. Without hesitation, we requested our Uber driver take us straight to the Eiffel Tower. There was no better place to begin our Parisian adventure.
It did not take KiKi five seconds to recognize the rhythms of Haitian Kompa music at Cafe Gustavo. A stone’s throw from the Eiffel Tower. She was spot on. Our Haitian server welcomed us to Paris with hot chocolate and buttered croissants. He recently realized his dream of trading the shores of Port Au Prince for the banks of the Seine. Haiti is KiKi’s second home. She visited several times and even lived there for a while. This cafe couldn’t have been more perfect. A wink from God. We were at the right place. Right here, right now.
Our plan was simple. To explore the Paris we’ve learned and dreamed about. But we also wanted to find our own Paris. The Paris we had not seen in the movies or read in any book. The neighborhood of Montmartre became our home for the week. It gave us a treasured gift. The opportunity to have an authentic Parisian experience, to meet you up close.
We saw your grandeur. From the streets of Champs-Élysées to Arc de Triomphe. Your elegance was not exaggerated. As I looked up inside the Palais Garnier, I knew in an instant that I had been using the word magnificent wrong. Breathtaking. Jardin de Luxembourg wore a golden royal robe as her trees prepared for the upcoming winter. The Mona Lisa was smaller than I had envisioned, and the heights at Sacre Coeur higher than I imagined.
We also saw a different side of you. The simple everyday life. We picked up croissants each morning. At a boulangerie near the Porte de Clignancourt metro station. The metro was vibrant with people from all works of life. Some chitchatted, others read. Others tried to tune out the world with their headphones. I even tried to eavesdrop on a couple of conversations with my little french vocabulary.
Off the beaten path of your cobbled streets, we made a friend. A chef at a petite restaurant near the river. Perfectly named Près de Seine. The food was so good, we went back again.
We got to see you at night. When the moon cast its big light, you responded with a million little lights that sparkled all night. The Eiffel Tower glistened. You were like a painting, but alive. A universe in yourself. A constellation of stars with the dark sky as the background. You capture light in different ways and in different colors. Maybe that is why they call you the city of lights.
I envy you. You did not seem so obsessed with productivity, in a good way. The two-hour lunch breaks. The happy hour that followed right after. You embody a culture of rest and leisure. I can see how Claude Monet, Edgar Degas, Edouard Manet, Camille Pissaro, Renoir, and others found inspiration and creativity here. By having conversations en Plein air.
Your atmosphere teems with artistic charm and human rawness. Beauty (in the human sense) is not a measure of sameness to a predefined ideal. It is an imperfect mix of loveliness, elegance, and little quirks.
On this trip, I got to know the real you.
The Parisian who drove us through your enchanted streets at night is you.
The chef at the little restaurant near the Seine, a native of la province is you.
The Haitian server we met on our first day is you.
The Cambodian Uber driver who drove us to the Eiffel Tower is you.
I, the tourist from Nigeria, visiting for my first anniversary, am you.
In a way, we are all Paris.
That’s what makes you beautiful. You are an amalgamation of different cultures, ideas, and people from all over the world.
Je t’aime Paris, à bientôt!
Love and light,
Tobi
