باريس - Paris

A long ode to France on Fat Tuesday

See on the canals
Those vessels sleeping.
Their mood is adventurous;
It's to satisfy
Your slightest desire
That they come from the ends of the earth.
— The setting suns
Adorn the fields,
The canals, the whole city,
With hyacinth and gold;
The world falls asleep
In a warm glow of light.

There all is order and beauty,
Luxury, peace, and pleasure.

(Translation of a paragraph "L'invitation au voyage" from Les Fleurs du Mal, by Charles Baudelaire)

Francophilia is not a rare condition. There's a reason why that popular movie from a couple years back is called "Paris, I love you." Mardi Gras, good bread, house music, long vacations… Everyone, intentionally or otherwise, probably enjoys something that initially came from the French. When people here (Egyptians are curious folk) ask "why Arabic?," the question is often followed by more inquiries into what I studied in college. When I say "French" (I never mention Plan II - that's ridiculous to explain in English), people either kind of sigh sadly (Poor thing, she'll never get a job), or exclaim excitedly (neat! French is cool! I studied French too!) But Paris is indeed objectively beautiful. A friend of mine in college (coughDANE) gently mocked me on occasion for posting pictures of Paris on my dorm wall . . . "Unique!" he would laugh. Okay, yes, sure, it is not unique nor is it creative to declare one's self in love with France . . . or with crêpes, or good wine, or good architecture, or sad black and white French movies for that matter. But ever since my second trip to the city, when I was seventeen, I joined the Francophile bandwagon, and I've been très happy ever since. Full appreciation, however, didn't arrive until this year, while living in Alex, a different sort of place.

What's amazing in such a grand culture as France's, and in the corners of such a magnifique city like Paris - is that there's room for everyone to share in the fabulous things together (plenty of inventive food, people, music, art, theatre, and dance to go around) but also room for everyone to find something just for them, completely their own, that no one else has claimed or known or found in the city or among the people. Everyone has a hook, a reason why Paris or France drew them in, a reason that actually IS unique. 

This past week, in Paris, while walking home on the Boulevard de la Chapelle on a frigid night, with snow flurries melting on a "new" hat (that my travelling buddy found on the floor of the metro), I clearly understood two things for the first time: My own reason why Paris pulls me back, and just how important languages like Arabic and French are to me, equally, and why.

When I was seventeen, my generous dadman took Sophie, my younger sister, and I to Paris to enjoy ourselves for a week while he attended a conference downtown. He asked us to check in with him once a day using payphones (remember those?), but gave us complete free reign over our time and decisions. Sophie and I got lost, contracted food poisoning, exhausted ourselves, and really, truly had a snazzy time. Museums are free for under-18 year olds in France and we noisily stomped our way through as MANY as we could. Most importantly, we armed ourselves with a map and our rudimentary French language skills, and found bright little spots throughout the city (The markets at Place Monge, that crazy graffiti throughout Belleville, Place de la Contrescarpe at 10 PM, the bridge where the Vedettes de Pont Neuf take off, full of tourists), with random conversations here and there, on our high-school-french level. Isn't that bewildering and emboldening rush of independence what we all love about travel and new places? It makes your strengths and weaknesses and desires stand out in stark relief, in the absence of all the comfort points that make life easy at home.

What I realized for the first time THIS past week is that my brain has knit the idea of Paris with that thrilled feeling; it was that trip, in high school, when I first realized that there's no need to stay in one spot, when there are so many others to wander through. I was privileged to be able to go at a young age, and am still blessed enough to have the time and freedom to study a pretty language like French, and a crazy one like Arabic, without negative effects on my family or future. I realize this is a big privilege, and I try to remind myself to remain ever-grateful for it. And the importance of studying languages, to me, is that maintaining some knowledge in anything besides English can help in that exploration - be it for the sake of travel, career, or otherwise. Oh fellow liberal arts folks… fine arts folks… we chose silly, weird things to study in college; oft-self-serving fun things. But perhaps insha'allah, they'll lead to places that are neither self-serving, nor weird, nor silly. 

The week in Paris was my Christmas gift from my parents (MERCI, parents), and an opportunity to see Raphael and Camille, my two switfly-growing, now five and seven-year old nanny charges from three years back. It was so, so good to walk in from the ice and cold to the warm, familiar apartment on Rue Pierre Sémard, and to hugs and kisses from those two little guys. I am already excited for them to visit Texas, "la terre des cow-boys." Allez, viens, la famille Ayed!

Paris is the old-fashioned and the inventive; an old, well-maintained Peugeot with a new coat of paint every few years. France has the capacity to amaze, and the ooos and aaaaahs of "it's just so beautiful!" that you can find yourself thinking as you stroll past meticulous Hausmannian buildings, select a pastry from a case of freshly-prepared masterpieces, or stumble into an accordion concert and tango contest on the banks of the Seine, are indicative of the culture's far-reaching appeal. It can also sometimes be cold and condescending, and it's a detail-oriented society, bureaucratic without being tryannical (the guillotine took care of that), and one where "les petits soins" (the little cares) and traditions are carefully cultivated. Politics is a national pasttime, like in Egypt, but is kept tidy under long-respected rules of chivalry and budgeting. A vibrant democracy that has succeeded in ousting power-hungry kings, emperors, and dictators time and time again throughout its history, France also now shares in carrying the burden of an expanding, teetering European union, and has accepted a lot of the blame and shame of its imperialist, bullying past.

Musings aside, me, myself, without any shame whatsoever, am an unabashed Francophile, and will keep that flame lit until the day I find the right stone house in the south of France (near Aix, I think) to open up a bed and breakfast. I'll make American breakfast (I'll steal Kerbey's recipe for lemon poppyseed pancakes, I think… the world should know about those) for weary travellers, and shop daily for the next day's meal in airy, green, open markets in Provence. It'll, like, totally be the *best*! France is a place with the capacity to nurture and strengthen one's most outlandish dreams, so yalla bina, if you have yet to spin underneath the Eiffel Tower, Zilker tree style, discuss French politics with pétanque-playing old men in Les Halles, eat a ham/cheese/egg/salad crêpe with hard cider on a clear, freezing night, or listen to old accordion ditties in the Lapin Agile, you've lived but not like the French, qui vivent. Go! Allez!

But if you're already a Francophile, you probably already knew all that. ;)

Some good old-fashioned French music, if you're not already sick of all this French stuff:

Carla Bruni - Quelqu'un m'a dit

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvyMG0z0FZY

Edith Piaf - Hymne a l'amour

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5BtmFohQdk&feature=related

Barbara - Quand reviendras-tu?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nUE80DTNxK4

Probably the best scene, and the best song, from Amélie, in my opinion

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R3heoAMuyH4

Scene from Delicatessen, a 1991 film from the director of Amélie. A much stranger little movie.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nLE-xARwnC0

Entire poem from Baudelaire:

L'invitation au voyage

Mon enfant, ma soeur,
Songe à la douceur
D'aller là-bas vivre ensemble !
Aimer à loisir,
Aimer et mourir
Au pays qui te ressemble !
Les soleils mouillés
De ces ciels brouillés
Pour mon esprit ont les charmes
Si mystérieux
De tes traîtres yeux,
Brillant à travers leurs larmes.

Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté,
Luxe, calme et volupté.

Des meubles luisants,
Polis par les ans,
Décoreraient notre chambre ;
Les plus rares fleurs
Mêlant leurs odeurs
Aux vagues senteurs de l'ambre,
Les riches plafonds,
Les miroirs profonds,
La splendeur orientale,
Tout y parlerait
À l'âme en secret
Sa douce langue natale.

Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté,
Luxe, calme et volupté.

Vois sur ces canaux
Dormir ces vaisseaux
Dont l'humeur est vagabonde ;
C'est pour assouvir
Ton moindre désir
Qu'ils viennent du bout du monde.
- Les soleils couchants
Revêtent les champs,
Les canaux, la ville entière,
D'hyacinthe et d'or ;
Le monde s'endort
Dans une chaude lumière.

Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté,
Luxe, calme et volupté.