Personal Narrative
David Parrott
It was a sunny morning in Paris, France. My friends and I had just been in a plane for nearly eight hours, and now we were ready to go out and explore the amazing, and beautiful city of Paris. None of us had ever been to Paris, or even Europe for that matter, and we had no idea what to expect, with our map of the Metro, and our not so great French speaking skills, we went out to explore the city.
As we set out on our journey, we had no idea what to expect, or what was to come, although we knew where we were going. On that day we were going to the “Sacre Coeur”, which is a huge church in Paris made in honor of the “sacred heart” of Jesus. We didn’t know much about where we were going. Almost anyone could give you a brief description of what it kind of looks like. Which would go something like “oh yea, isn’t that the big thing in France that kinda looks like the Taj Mahal in India?” Although that is one of the many ways to describe the highest point of Paris, from which you can see from miles around, it is extremely understated. The beauty and sheer magnificence of this basilica, which is the Sacre Coeur, in the Montmartre district of Paris, is what we set out to see for ourselves.
Finally the day came, when we had the chance to go to the Sacre Coeur. It was a cool, yet sunny Paris morning, as almost all of them are. We descended down to the Metro system (the subway system of Paris). It was as it always was, which entailed wind, cold, and the indescribable smell of the metro system. It seemed to follow you everywhere you went, until you got up above ground.
As we got onto the white and green train we made sure that everyone was there, so that none of us would get lost in the commotion of Parisians rushing to try to get to work on time every morning. We all made it and everything was fine. As we sped off from the nearest train station to our hotel, we couldn’t wait to see what was going to be on the other side. We came to a halting stop in the Montmartre district of Paris. The night before, our teacher Madame Guedon, warned us about this area and the overwhelming prevalence of pick pockets, and thieves roaming the streets looking for naïve tourists, like us.
So we got off the train, the three of my friends (Dan, Serrie, and Jillna) and I got off the train and climbed up the steps of the metro to get back into the city, only to see that there were hundreds of Parisians, trying to get to work, tourists, perusing throughout the tourist shops that packed the streets, and pickpockets, looking for unknowing victims, all trying to get to where they needed to go that morning.
As we made our way up the worn cement path along the busy, yet only two-lane narrow roadway, we really got a sense for what this was all about. It wasn’t just going around observing and seeing the many magnificent pieces of architecture around Paris. We were going and learning about the amazing culture of France. This didn’t just entail eating French baguettes, pastries, and fine cheeses all day long, but it was more of seeing how different things can be a third of the way around the world from where we had started in Iowa City.
It wasn’t all tourist shops lining the streets though, there were bakeries (boulangeries) in which you could find locals buying baguettes for under a euro (which is just over a dollar) for themselves, and chatting away with the people that they saw there on a daily basis. There were fruit shops (that didn’t really have specialized names), in which you could find some teenager running the shop for their parents, while listening to American pop music on radios (which was actually very common throughout France). There were cheese shops (fromageries) run by old Parisian couples, who had obviously been doing what they were doing since they were young as a part of a family store tradition and who were also some of the nicest people that I have ever met. Next there were the pastry shops (patisseries) in which the best of any pastries in the entire world could be found, displayed proudly in the front windows of their store, all lined up in straight lines, and all precisely crafted to perfection. And so Dan, Serrie, Jillna, and I went into these little shops and bought whatever we wanted to for our picnic at the top of the hill at the base of the Sacre Coeur. This was something that we might not be able to do ever again and was really a new experience for all of us. Partly because of the fact that we don’t have specialized shops like these in America, that just sell bread or cheese or fruit only, and also because we, as teenagers in high school, never really buy food for ourselves, but rely on our parents to get it for us, in a familiar environment.
This was an especially memorable moment, and a moment of truth for all of us, as we perused through these shops. It really forced us to be able to use our French, because in this part of Paris, a large majority of people didn’t know how to speak English so we had to go along and actually be able to speak their language. Finally, we made it to the top of the hill, with our lunches in our bags, and our stomachs ready. As we walked up the stairs, we could finally see the entire beauty of this magnificent structure, standing proudly in the afternoon sun. At this point, it couldn’t have gotten much better, besides the homeless people trying to “sell” their string woven wristbands, everything was amazing. As Dan, Serrie, Jillna and I sat on the side of one of the many fountains eating our lunch, we were in sheer amazement of what we could see from the highest point in Paris. We could see for miles around, and we could see all of the major land marks of Paris like the Eiffel Tower, Les Invalides, and the Arc de Triomphe, just to name a few. This was one of the moments that I really knew that this decision that I had made was a good one, and that I wouldn’t rather be anywhere in the world right then but where I was at that very moment.
Once we were done with our lunches, we decided to go up to the top of the Sacre Coeur, even though there was an entry fee to get up to the top, along with about a long, almost-never ending spiral stair case (which seemed to be very prevalent throughout all of France). I believe that it was truly worth it in the end, for the view from the top of the Sacre Coeur was more magnificent than where we had been before, which almost one hundred feet below. From this point we could see even further on the horizon and we could see even more of the magnificent, shimmering, almost glowing, city of Paris.
This was just one of the few things that we did when we were in Paris and France. I think that it was definitely one of the things that I will always remember as long as I live. I believe that this experience that I had when I was in France was not only a great adventure, it also shaped the way that I see things today, in terms of how a completely different culture than our own works. It came along with an experience that not everyone can have, but I believe that experiencing a different culture should be something that everyone should have a chance to do at some point in their lives.
David Parrott
It was a sunny morning in Paris, France. My friends and I had just been in a plane for nearly eight hours, and now we were ready to go out and explore the amazing, and beautiful city of Paris. None of us had ever been to Paris, or even Europe for that matter, and we had no idea what to expect, with our map of the Metro, and our not so great French speaking skills, we went out to explore the city.
As we set out on our journey, we had no idea what to expect, or what was to come, although we knew where we were going. On that day we were going to the “Sacre Coeur”, which is a huge church in Paris made in honor of the “sacred heart” of Jesus. We didn’t know much about where we were going. Almost anyone could give you a brief description of what it kind of looks like. Which would go something like “oh yea, isn’t that the big thing in France that kinda looks like the Taj Mahal in India?” Although that is one of the many ways to describe the highest point of Paris, from which you can see from miles around, it is extremely understated. The beauty and sheer magnificence of this basilica, which is the Sacre Coeur, in the Montmartre district of Paris, is what we set out to see for ourselves.
Finally the day came, when we had the chance to go to the Sacre Coeur. It was a cool, yet sunny Paris morning, as almost all of them are. We descended down to the Metro system (the subway system of Paris). It was as it always was, which entailed wind, cold, and the indescribable smell of the metro system. It seemed to follow you everywhere you went, until you got up above ground.
As we got onto the white and green train we made sure that everyone was there, so that none of us would get lost in the commotion of Parisians rushing to try to get to work on time every morning. We all made it and everything was fine. As we sped off from the nearest train station to our hotel, we couldn’t wait to see what was going to be on the other side. We came to a halting stop in the Montmartre district of Paris. The night before, our teacher Madame Guedon, warned us about this area and the overwhelming prevalence of pick pockets, and thieves roaming the streets looking for naïve tourists, like us.
So we got off the train, the three of my friends (Dan, Serrie, and Jillna) and I got off the train and climbed up the steps of the metro to get back into the city, only to see that there were hundreds of Parisians, trying to get to work, tourists, perusing throughout the tourist shops that packed the streets, and pickpockets, looking for unknowing victims, all trying to get to where they needed to go that morning.
As we made our way up the worn cement path along the busy, yet only two-lane narrow roadway, we really got a sense for what this was all about. It wasn’t just going around observing and seeing the many magnificent pieces of architecture around Paris. We were going and learning about the amazing culture of France. This didn’t just entail eating French baguettes, pastries, and fine cheeses all day long, but it was more of seeing how different things can be a third of the way around the world from where we had started in Iowa City.
It wasn’t all tourist shops lining the streets though, there were bakeries (boulangeries) in which you could find locals buying baguettes for under a euro (which is just over a dollar) for themselves, and chatting away with the people that they saw there on a daily basis. There were fruit shops (that didn’t really have specialized names), in which you could find some teenager running the shop for their parents, while listening to American pop music on radios (which was actually very common throughout France). There were cheese shops (fromageries) run by old Parisian couples, who had obviously been doing what they were doing since they were young as a part of a family store tradition and who were also some of the nicest people that I have ever met. Next there were the pastry shops (patisseries) in which the best of any pastries in the entire world could be found, displayed proudly in the front windows of their store, all lined up in straight lines, and all precisely crafted to perfection. And so Dan, Serrie, Jillna, and I went into these little shops and bought whatever we wanted to for our picnic at the top of the hill at the base of the Sacre Coeur. This was something that we might not be able to do ever again and was really a new experience for all of us. Partly because of the fact that we don’t have specialized shops like these in America, that just sell bread or cheese or fruit only, and also because we, as teenagers in high school, never really buy food for ourselves, but rely on our parents to get it for us, in a familiar environment.
This was an especially memorable moment, and a moment of truth for all of us, as we perused through these shops. It really forced us to be able to use our French, because in this part of Paris, a large majority of people didn’t know how to speak English so we had to go along and actually be able to speak their language. Finally, we made it to the top of the hill, with our lunches in our bags, and our stomachs ready. As we walked up the stairs, we could finally see the entire beauty of this magnificent structure, standing proudly in the afternoon sun. At this point, it couldn’t have gotten much better, besides the homeless people trying to “sell” their string woven wristbands, everything was amazing. As Dan, Serrie, Jillna and I sat on the side of one of the many fountains eating our lunch, we were in sheer amazement of what we could see from the highest point in Paris. We could see for miles around, and we could see all of the major land marks of Paris like the Eiffel Tower, Les Invalides, and the Arc de Triomphe, just to name a few. This was one of the moments that I really knew that this decision that I had made was a good one, and that I wouldn’t rather be anywhere in the world right then but where I was at that very moment.
Once we were done with our lunches, we decided to go up to the top of the Sacre Coeur, even though there was an entry fee to get up to the top, along with about a long, almost-never ending spiral stair case (which seemed to be very prevalent throughout all of France). I believe that it was truly worth it in the end, for the view from the top of the Sacre Coeur was more magnificent than where we had been before, which almost one hundred feet below. From this point we could see even further on the horizon and we could see even more of the magnificent, shimmering, almost glowing, city of Paris.
This was just one of the few things that we did when we were in Paris and France. I think that it was definitely one of the things that I will always remember as long as I live. I believe that this experience that I had when I was in France was not only a great adventure, it also shaped the way that I see things today, in terms of how a completely different culture than our own works. It came along with an experience that not everyone can have, but I believe that experiencing a different culture should be something that everyone should have a chance to do at some point in their lives.
posted by Alan at 8:14 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home