french connection

I just returned from my first trip to Paris. Ever since I took French my freshman year of high-school I've felt I was living on the wrong continent. I should have been born a French girl, darn it. Only a trip to Paris could prove me right.....or wrong.... Maybe I was just glamorizing the whole French thing. I was warned... "they are rude" ,"they don't like Americans so say that you're Canadian" ," look how they treated Oprah".

After our trip to Rome I began to have my doubts. I thought for sure I must have gotten it all wrong. Why would I be thinking I was a Parisian girl trapped in an American body this whole time? Rome was fantastic, friendly, relaxed and so photogenic, I felt like I BELONGED in Rome. Silly me. I thought that all this time I was meant to be a Parisian when really I was meant to be a Roman girl. Surely nothing could compare to the high that trip created in me.......in fact, I decided that when my French course expires this September, it is really Italian I should be taking. That accent comes so much easier for me.....yep, I'm destined to be Roman girl....but to be fair......I still really needed to compare the two cities

I'll be honest. Although I couldn't imagine liking another city more than Rome, I wanted to like Paris more. But on our first day I wasn't sold. I felt an odd loyalty to my first European experience; to the picturesque streets and old world feel of Rome. I loved the way the streets were narrow with gradual slopes and hidden alleys, buildings of all different shades of old brick and stone. Rome was instantly comfortable, friendly and animated. Paris on the other hand with her monochromatic colored buildings, and more manicured, vast streets took me awhile to get to know. But, by the end of the second day, I could feel myself falling in love. Paris proved to have all the hidden nooks and crannies of Rome along with wide avenues made for cars and long walks. The best of both worlds.

I love her great, understated refinement. I love the feeling of being part of her well-mannered, cultured sophistication. When I really think about it, Paris feels more like a city I could really live in. I have a habit of rating every new city I travel to in terms of "could I live here". Rome is a great, fantastic getaway, but Paris feels like it could really be home.

In an effort to keep my travel buzz going I have been googling France. On the plane home I even watched Pret a Porter just so I could see all the places we saw one more time. During my google frenzy I stumbled upon a quiz called "Are you a Francophile?". Hmm...I thought about that for a minute. I love the language, even though my accent is weak and my pronounciation is off. (And my recall.....forget it. For my entire first day there I kept accidently saying "si" instead of "oui". Now that I'm back in Dubai, I can't stop saying "oui" instead of "yes". All the Philippino and Indian workers are giving me strange looks.) I love, love, love the fashion and can't get enough of the je ne c'est quoi for how they put their efffortless looking outfits together. I love the wine and cheese......but then again, I love wine and cheese from every country so that may not count. I love the stylish energy that Paris has, and I love that everyone was friendly and polite. Yes, they were polite. No one was rude or mean to us....even when we admitted to being American and liking to watch Oprah.

So, am I a Francophile? Actually, I think I am more of a Parisphile. It sounds less creepy and there is just something about that city that has called to me even before I went there. I am more convinced than ever that I was a French girl living in Paris during a past life. (Surely that explains why Les Miserables is my all-time favorite musical.) Now, I just have to figure out how to become a French girl again.. in THIS life.......