le francais.

I wasn’t certain at first what it was that makes the French so fundamentally different from Americans but now I believe that it is confidence. They are not necessarily self-confident like we Americans think of the term, but they share a confidence in life. The French expression, “c’est la vie,” although cliché, is true in more ways than I had ever imagined. The concept of “positivity” comes to mind but that is not it exactly, either. A French person would not necessarily jump off a cliff sooner than an American would, and yet they wouldn’t be phased by the cliff and they would go around it, instead. On the other hand, an American would frantically consider leaping over the cliff because they would be so hesitant to veer off course. My personal anxiety, for instance, has lessened considerably since by being surrounded by a community that, if it does worry, it is infrequent and over something important. I understand that an unexpected cliff is a significant concern in any case, however it is how we define a “cliff” versus merely a gap between stepping-stones. That has been my experience, so far, regardless of the reality here in Paris. I do, however, believe that it is a fact that American society is generally more anxious than other nations and that fact alone is worth considering. Discussions of poor health and of chronic stress aren’t nearly as frequent as they are on the other side of the ocean, as far as I am concerned and I am eager to know why.
Philosophical moment aside, I had another lovely day wandering in Paris. The French confidence that I was referring to earlier rubbed off on me this morning for my oral exam to determine my language level, and I actually enjoyed talking to the teacher about my goals in Paris. Then I went to Notre Dame with some fellow students and was so happy to see blue skies and sun! I foolishly believed that I was saying goodbye to the sun when I left Miami, but Paris never fails to amaze me with little marvels like these. The dark interior of the cathedral concealed my teary reaction to its general beauty and the sound of the choir. Just being inside such a powerful place evokes feelings of hope, tinged with sadness that ordinarily lie beneath the surface. Notre Dame is just one of the many places where I can find quiet in Paris, and I am eager to discover more.