Not Vacation & Paris Syndrome

This past January I took a two week study-abroad trip to France with 20 something fellow students to learn about ancient Roman architecture in Southern France and modern Parisian architecture around the city. While I obviously did sign up for the trip voluntarily I had really no expectations in my head about the Paris portion of the trip. I've been to Paris previously when I was 11 for my older sister's 16th birthday trip but I wasn't really conscious and the only things I remember are the orange blossom ice cream from Noura and having to use the bathroom at the top of the Eiffel Tower. 

As far as cities go, I find most of them to be quite similar and therefore with limited capacities for charm. Milan, New York, Madrid, they're all just cities, and I'd much rather go to a rural town surrounded by nature than strolling around yet another "fashion district" and pretending like I haven't seen it all before. Besides my existing disdain for and boredom with most cities, I am also aware of the concept of "Paris Syndrome", a sense of culture shock that has famously afflicted (most notably Japanese) travelers who visited Paris only to be severely disappointed when it inevitably did not live up to their expectations. All this to say that my expectations were tamped down, and I was just happy to be traveling. Perhaps due to the fact that I had no more of an expectation of my enjoyment of Paris than, let's say, New York, which I enjoy perfectly fine but no more than that, I was very pleasantly surprised by how much I liked the city. Compared to the people in Madrid which I had been in a few days prior, the Parisians I encountered were, uncharacteristically it seemed to me, very kind and fun to converse with. The city was clean, the food good, the people hot, sexy, and sweet, and the nightlife incredible (nightlife meaning Caveau de la Huchette and nowhere else). I did really love my time in Paris and I would really love to go back. 

For my newfound fondness of the city, I've compiled a short list of songs that mention it in a sort of indifferent love letter to Paris. 

La Femme! My favorite French band for quite some time and my go to when I want to emphasize how esoteric my taste in music is (pay no mind to the fact that they sell out arenas back in France...). 

My mission during this trip was to purchase as much of La Femme's discography on CD as I could, since my only chances here in the States are to get them at their concerts where they're often sold out of older records or to ship the CDs from their shop in France which would cost far too much in overseas shipping charges. The first record store I went to, Crocodisc, a sweet shop split into two parts located on Rue des Écoles not too far from Notre-Dame, humbled me. The store was small, and what little space there was inside was all occupied by various Millennial and older French men, looking very seriously through the store's selection. Too nervous to ask if they had anything from La Femme, I circled the four tight aisles for 15 minutes, trying to seem like I was consciously looking through the discs I was shuffling around so fervently and not just building up the willpower to give in and admit I needed help. After a few laps, leaning in to the stupid American demeanor, I asked if they had anything from La Femme, to which the kind cashier responded, "Mais non, you can try Gibert Joseph five minutes walk away." After trying to figure out what the hell he had just said because I've never heard the name Gibert in my life, I found it, and had to laugh. Gibert Joseph is essentially the Barnes & Noble of France, a big chain store with different buildings for comics, video, music, and books. I was genuinely impressed and jealous that the French get these huge mainstream stores filled with physical media, something I feel we lack in America. Beyond that, I was wildly amused and definitely knocked down a peg. This band that would be considered generally not very well known in the States, that no one ever knows when I bring them up, wasn't in a little indie shop but instead French Barnes & Noble. I realize their fame is geographically relative but it did put everything into perspective! At Gibert Joseph I was able to find 2 of their albums, and on sale at that, which was maybe the best feeling ever. In total I purchased 16 CDs while I was in Paris, those of French bands and older releases that I simply can't get in America, or at least not in person and at reduced prices. Just the concept of widely accessible music stores is so dreamy to me, like that's living! 

Besides my CD buying frenzy and realizing in France my music taste is so regular, "Ciao Paris!" is one of my favorite songs off La Femme's most recent release, Rock Machine. It never fails to make my dear friend Minahil and I emotional and after being in Paris for a week the song feels like it was written for me,,, because I'm basically a local, right? In the song the singer says "bye-bye" to various locations around Paris, and bids adieu to friends and family, singing, "Now please don't call me, my phone just died, oh please, don't worry, I feel so fine," a line that makes me particularly teary-eyed. 

This song really has nothing to do with Paris but the beginning is of a French person with a heavy accent monologuing with much melancholy in their voice which is extremely Parisian. 

"I stayed up all night long, waiting for the fire ache in my heart to subside. It never happened. He was the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen, most beautiful boy I'd ever met."

These lyrics were written about me in reference to my feelings for the incredible 6'7 man I saw at Caveau de la Huchette one night... I'll never forget him...

"Paris is a dream come true, and we don't even need to explore." 

Strong disagree! I did in fact need to explore Paris and never once had I dreamed about Paris before this trip. Good try, Shura.