July 6 Paris Reflections

Amazed, grateful, inspired, loved, and at peace

Right now - I’m at the Charles de Gaulle airport, terminal 2G. After some anxiety of getting around this labyrinth of an airport, and taking a few different buses – I’m all settled with about two hours before my flight boards. All I can think about is how happy I am. So grateful for my weekend in Paris…I hope I can do it justice with words, but here’s a try.

I was once asked why I loved Paris so much. I think I have a better answer this time around. Paris is a place where my soul can sing. I felt the warmth of music, art, love, passion, food, and everything that life has to offer when in Paris. I feel renewed and inspired. These past few days, I didn’t feel like a tourist, I felt like a human being living the life that I was meant to live! One of my favorite memories is when I walked through the subways, and stumbled upon a string group playing Pachelbel Canon, beautifully. The acoustics were amazing in the middle of beehive subway station. The music filled the air and I felt my heart swell up with emotion and love. The song has a great significance to me not because it’s the most commonly played song at weddings, but because as a young violinist it was the first song that I fell in love with and took great lengths to play well.

And then, despite the many unanswered questions still resting in my heart, I made up my mind about one thing. I will get a dog someday. This weekend, I got to play with the cutest puppies. We wandered upon a row of pet stores along this street by the river. I didn’t expect to find puppies because typical pet stores in the States don’t usually have dogs. But these stores had plenty of puppies of all types. Labs, English and French bulldogs, beagles, boxers…but I fell for the Jack Russells. The shop owner wouldn’t let us play with them at first because Jack Russells are too hyper and tend to run out of their cage; but after I stood there in love for almost 20 minutes, he opened them up and let me play with them. My heart just melted! Every so often, you can catch them in a moment of stillness. There was this sadness about the Jack Russell’s when they were just sitting there calm and still, it was absolutely adorable. It was like they wanted to be loved, waiting for the right person to come along and take them home. They knew that something was missing in their lives. But the majority of the time, they were completely crazy, restless, happy, needy, and full of energy. They’d wrestle with each other, run around in circles, lick and chew on everything and everyone, and beg for attention. I can relate.

This trip also reinforced my deep yearning desire to actually live in Paris one day. I want to raise my kids here, especially if I have a daughter. I will do everything possible to make sure that she spends a few years as a child in Paris. Instead of reading her books or teaching her history, I will take her to the Louvre, Musee d’Orsay, Pompidou, Victor Hugo’s house, Van Gough, Picasso, Rodin…all of it. I’d want her to love the Louvre just like I do, but if she chooses to love impressionism or modern art at the Musee d’Orsay or Pompidou and have a thing for Monet or Manet, Cezanne, Degas, or Van Gough, then so be it. I’d still love her. But I’d teach her about real beauty through the paintings; I’d show her that beauty doesn’t mean skinny arms, man like musculature, chiseled bone structure, and million dollar shoes. Beauty has evolved throughout the years. It is complex and mysterious. Those paintings of naked women, full and voluptuous, confident and radiant, front and center will be a stark contrast from the fashion magazines and Victoria secret models. I’d want her to discover her inner beauty by looking at all of those that came before her and let her choose what type of beautiful she wants to be.

There’s so much that I felt and experienced this weekend. I’m trying to spit it all out before I forget or move on to the next thought. I’m afraid that I’ll lose them if I don’t describe all of these memories and emotions while they are still fresh in my mind. It was almost overwhelming…but breathtaking at the same time. I’m sorry I’m not doing this justice because I feel rushed in my reflections, when in fact my time in Paris was just the opposite. It was slow and subtle. Patient and kind, not boastful or extravagant. I’ll try to take my time and give it the time that it deserves.

The food. The people. The sights. The spirit. The diversity. The depth and complexity. I’ll take you through it one at a time.

The river that runs through the city reminds me of Rome and the Tiber River. There are lots of bridges to take you back and forth between the north and south side of the city. Some of the best sights are along the river, the Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, Pompidou, Musee d’Orsay…But what struck me the most about the river was the people that sat along the river in the evenings. Mostly students and young people, with some teenagers, and some older couples filled the entire two banks. They would linger late at night with bottles of cheap wine, beer, some hard alcohol, crackers and cheeses. Everyone sat in groups or as couples, and talked for hours and hours. So much to talk about. Outside, lingering, and enjoying the night. Couples embraced and kissed passionately as if it was their last kiss on earth. No one stared (except for maybe me and a few other Americans), but it was so well accepted. I really appreciated that. What we call PDA can actually be a true manifestation of love or passion. It was pretty sweet. They weren’t a bit apologetic or embarrassed of their emotions. They were in love and happy to make a statement to the world about it.

After spending the majority of the past month in Germany eating potatoes and some form of pork, I thoroughly enjoyed a weekend away to experience French cuisine. All in all, I think we had about 4-5 baguettes and a pretty giant chunk of brie. My favorite meal was the first night, I had mackerel as the first course, and the entrée was some sort of bird wrapped in bacon with amazing peas, carrots, and vegetables. For dessert, we had figs and pears soaked in honey and red wine. It was pretty amazing. The small cozy restaurant was completely packed, service was excellent, and atmosphere reminded me of being in an Italian villa. One of the other favorite meals was moules and frites: A popular shared dish between Alexa and me. It left a familiar taste just like dinners after Bistrot du Coin. The moules we chose were in a cream sauce that wasn’t a bit too heavy. The mushrooms kept their texture and taste in tact to complement the bread. Dijon mustard, ketchup, and one portion too much of mayonnaise accompanied our frites. The caraf of rose wine we shared was just enough to get us both a good buzz. The last meal Alexa and I had together was at the highly recommended Le Bistrot d’Henri, but unfortunately it didn’t live up to our expectations. My pork and pasta was decent but not amazing. The portion was way too much. Alexa’s duck and potatoes were tough to handle. The duck was impossible to cut with the butter knife they provided, and even with a steak knife, it just wasn’t very tasty or edible. We did start out with great pastries every morning though; I think there were quite a few chocolate and regular croissants. I also had a decadent peace tart on puff pastry. OH I almost forgot, the first meal I had on Friday morning was the cream of mushroom soup with puff pastry. It was the most amazing cream of mushroom soup I’ve ever had!! This takes the whole Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup and basically turns it into the equivalent of camel spit/American coffee to Italian espresso. The puff pastry was flaky and buttery, perfection. The soup was to die for. Then there was Laduree and the macaroons there. Pistacchio and vanilla for Alexa, raspberry and coffee for me! Met a random CEO of some Germany company who invited me to visit him in two weeks when I’m in Stuttgart. Boy did he love to hear himself talk. Certainly made me question how great being extraverted is...can't imagine how he sleeps at night. The macaroons were extremely expensive, sort of felt like the whole Serendipity feel of overpriced, overhyped, and overcrowded desserts. We spent the only cab ride to a closed Angelina’s where we were hoping to get hot chocolate after spending a chilly evening sitting by the Eiffel Tower.

The one baguette and a chunk of brie were complemented by a small bottle of red wine atop the Montmartre Sarcre Coeur Chapel. What an odd place? The Chapel was absolutely breathtaking – it was like an ancient mosque-like structure dropped on a hill in the middle of Paris. I inflamed my left knee climbing to the top of that hill, but well worth it. The whole scene though was a bit off putting. The entire hill around the Chapel (a church of God) was green and grassy, but littered with trash and beer cans. Hooligans and people of all walks of life were just sitting around waiting for something to happen. Some met friends for drinks, while others waited opportunistically for aloof tourists. At one point, about a handful of police cars drove in and out of the roads while some policemen ran around chasing people. It reminded me of the time at Gallery Place/Chinatown in DC where the policemen chased down teenagers on the streets like a stampede after an under 17 club let out. But this occurrence was completely inexplicable to a newcomer like myself. Everyone around me sitting on the hill cheered and hooted, almost in a taunting way when the police started to chase down the people. I can attempt to make up a back story for what happened, but it’s likely to be entirely false.

We watched the Germany vs. Argentina game at The Great Canadian, where I had a strongbow. The game was fantastic. I was certainly cheering for the right team. I had a moment of weakness and had to leave during half-time and sit outside for five minutes past the half-time break. But luckily I didn’t miss any goals. I had my iphone with me, and despite the urge to drunk dial someone, I remembered how that whole experience turned out last weekend when I had a Sunday breakfast drink and then proceeded to act petulant and inconsolable. I missed the first half of the Germany game last Sunday. I wasn’t about to miss another game due to lack of self-control. Instead, I prayed and read a few verses on love, patience, and faith. It settled my heart and reminded me of how good I can be. I’m glad I didn’t make the same mistake twice in one World Cup week.

The conversations that Alexa and I had were incredibly timely and impactful, at least on me. After quite some time apart and few and far in between phone calls, we were able to reconnect. Things have definitely changed since college, the stakes are higher and issues are more serious, I suppose. What used to be around boyfriends, classes, different social circles, etc. etc. has now turned into marriage discussions, kids, sacrifices, careers, and family expectations. On one hand it was incredibly nice to have someone to relate to, and someone who makes similar but different mistakes. We both constantly struggle patience, control, expectations, demands, all that… but I wouldn’t say it was comforting because there were more questions than answers that came out of those conversations. And in some ways, we were both left to be content with waiting and hoping.

It’s definitely tough being a minority (female and ethnic minority) that is. We both struggle with the expectations and preferences of our culture versus mainstream values. For me, obviously marrying a Chinese boy would make so many aspects of family life easier on my parents and future in-laws. Then there’s the whole career versus family question. In so many respects, we are taught at young age by our parents that we need to be selfish and pursue higher education, be the best and brightest. Be just as smart if not smarter than the boys. We shouldn’t let anything get in the way. Especially boys. They forbid us to date, but then sometime around the mid-twenties they tell us bam! Time to get married, have kids, go! It just doesn’t make sense. I do want to be selfish. I want to be happy. I don’t want to settle (down). The thought of marriage and kids just seems like shackles at this point. And I guess I’m just not smart enough to have both, yet.

I have been thinking a lot lately in light of recent events in my personal life. This past week was definitely a transformational one. After a busy Monday to Thursday, I sat at the airport in Hanover before my flight to Paris last Thursday afternoon and literally cried by myself for 30 minutes. It was incredibly cathartic. I could feel God’s hands on me healing me. It was also incredibly humbling. I hid most of those emotions for a later, more appropriate time, which turned out to be Thursday afternoon. When all of the sudden, this gushing wave of emotion just burst. I felt guilty, spent, sad, miserable, lonely, hallow, abandoned, but mostly I felt like a terrible person. I saw through the mirror and it was ugly. I was brutally honest with myself about my flaws and blamed everything that had happened on me. I caused someone a lot of anger, pain, resentment, negative feels, disappointment, sadness…etc. I did a bad thing, and I knew it. I wanted to make up for it. I wanted to make amends. I wanted to change, to be better, and to be good again. I wanted vindication!! I wanted to scream out loud, “I am not a needy, selfish, and insecure brat! I swear, I’m not!”

Aaahahaha…I’m laughing about it now because I can still see myself in that moment desperately wanting to prove a point. It’s no use, I am who I am. I’m happily embracing it now, and looking forward. I have to believe that I can change, and that God does want me to change. One day I will be a patient, humble, considerate, faithful and true person. I’m not the complete opposite of all those things right now, and this weekend spending it with Alexa, I also learned to be kind to myself. I don’t want to blame anyone, and I don’t need to be so hard on myself.

I can’t just say that I’ll never be that ugly person again, it could happen. If I were to be put in a similar position right now, it could likely happen over and over again. I don’t have it all sorted out, and there are plenty of unanswered questions. But I know one thing for sure, God is an awesome God, He loves me and He really wants me to be good. He’ll do anything to make sure that I am doing what’s best and what will make me happy. I will trust in Him!

And so, this weekend has definitely left me feeling: Amazed, grateful, inspired, loved, and at peace