Life in Paris

I wake up at 5AM to the vibration of my smartwatch. I walk three steps away from the bed and unroll the extra set of blankets in this studio apartment. I do my 108 bows in complete silence and meditate. I then find myself in a bit of a pickle: what do I do now?

The studio we are staying at has no separate room and I’ve spent a few days trying to do things in the dark room where my wife is sleeping after a night-long battle with jetlag. The strain on my eyes were a bit too much after a few days so I just hopped on to the bed again and dozed off for a few more hours.

I’ve been feeling the itch to write again but I didn’t realize how much I depended on my environment to write. Having a room where I can gather thoughts in a bit of silence, being able to make a bit of noise without disturbing others, these had become a part of my writing routine. Being in a studio apartment in a culture where noise is deeply frowned upon from 10pm-7am, the first 2 waking hours have been tough.

Yesterday I stepped outside to find a place I can plug my keyboard and write a bit freely. Something I learned about France is, nothing is really open in the early morning except the train station. So I walked to the Montparnasse train station and settled myself on one of the waiting area desks and started writing.

The internet made it sound like the French are posh, condescending arses who look down upon your horrible French accent. The internet also made it sound like Parisians are the most cocky of them all. But in my personal experience it’s been the complete opposite of that. The French are very abundant with their smiles and they look into your eyes as you ask them to speak a bit slowly.

The man who sat next to me asked about my bluetooth keyboard. He seemed very impressed and I told him that it helps me not use my thumb to write long texts like this. Another thing I noticed: older people tend to speak more English than the younger people. He dozed off while watching YouTube and it was 8AM, the time the cafe at our street opens, so I decided to walk back.

I didn’t realize how much I enjoy walking. It’s very weird, according to my step counter it’s the same 10k steps but 10k steps in California seem like a very boring chore while 10k steps in Paris seems like a quick stroll around the neighborhood. Walking my dogs for an extended walk, all I see is houses and more houses along with strip malls all coated in beige. Walking to and from the train station to the studio, I see so many people living life.

I think that makes a difference in how you perceive yourself in connection to your community and surroundings. When I’m at Costco, I definitely see a lot of people but they’re all doing one thing: shopping at Costco. When I’m at a busy cafe in Los Angeles I see a lot of people, again doing the same thing: drinking coffee. When I’m walking in Los Angeles I rarely see people in the streets because people are mostly driving.

In Paris as I walk I see a group of people sitting outside of a cafe enjoying breakfast. I see people walking to their destinations. I see people repairing their bikes and people waiting for the bus. Some people are sitting and chatting, some people are enjoying some smoke time in the middle of their shift. My walking reminds me that I’m part of this collective organism of a community, at least for this moment.

A few hours pass and the street landscape looks completely different from the morning. As more shops open more people are out in the streets and there are sounds of life. My wife and I grab a quick bite from our haul at the local markets and venture outside again. Taking the bus, the metro, walking, stopping, taking pictures and videos, we have what you might call a typical day but this typical day was very missing from our life in America.

My wife grew up in Korea where public transportation is abundantly available. I used to be a Southern California drive-anywhere-and-everywhere kind of guy but now that I’ve experienced both public transportation and driving for an extended period of time I can see how needing to drive to places shapes your life in a certain way. This change is especially pronounced for my wife because she came from a completely different culture of not needing to drive at all.

Now that we’re both in a place where public transit is part of everyday life we’re out more. It is so nice to not have to care about parking, unprotected left turns, and whatever else you have to think about when you drive. This only works because we’re in an urban area where all the things you typically need to drive to are in walking distance. What will we think of a European suburban environment? Guess we’ll have to find out.

Soon it becomes evening and this is when the streets are the most full of life. It feels like all the people stayed in their cocoons to turn into a butterfly in the evening. All the food businesses are filled with people inside and outside as people wine and dine. We’ve been trying to cook more so we head back to the apartment to prep dinner but when we open the windows to let the sound of the streets in it’s like we’re bustling with them.

Cooking… Leaves a lot to be desired especially because this is such a small space. Pots have no lids so rice cooking has been difficult, heat is induction so it’s been hard to fix a “quick” meal. But even if the cooking is a bit horrible from the perspective of cooking techniques or equipments, the flavor is exception because the ingredients are all exceptionally good.

Late PM is my usual time when I have clients, so in between clients I do the cooking and eating. After that we shower up and wrap up the day. This has been life in Paris so far. How are you doing, wherever you are?