Last year we had a short getaway to Paris. It was in a word idillic, in two movie-like. We arrived at our little hotel close to the Gare du Nord at night, spent the next day strolling around the city doing many touristy things and flew back the next (before I had time to eat half the city's supply of macaroons). And it was absolutely perfect. Paris is a city destined to steal hearts. At least mine.
Oddly enough I think I appreciate Paris all the more now that I'm living abroad. Because this city (and I guess France in general) feels so much closer to home than the UK. Don't get me wrong, I love love love living in the Midlands, but this is a land where I had to adapt and learn so much because even the tiny things are so different from the way things are in Portugal. In Paris I would look outside our window and if I ignored the street names and the language I could pretend I was in downtown Lisbon. Because the city itself and the culture are so close to home. It makes sense for things to be this way, I mean, Portugal and France are both romance cultures, whereas the UK is germanic so those two are bound to be closer. Also for decades France has been the number one destination for Portuguese that wish to live abroad, so I imagine you could easily find a community to support you and all your national cravings.
And it got me thinking - what would've happened if I (we) had chosen to move to France instead? Language-wise it might have been harder at first, simply because I dedicated so much of my life to master the English language and practically ignored the French, even though it's so much closer to my mother tongue. But two weeks, maybe a month, and I'd be fine on that score. Architecturally it'd be bittersweet because it would be so much closer to home and yet it would be someplace new. Still, very small learning curve, I believe. Culturally it would be much easier than the UK. I find the French frame of mind is very similar to the Portuguese, so again, very low impact. Moving to France would be like being a foreigner in a parallel, alternate version of home. Sure it isn't the same as being in Portugal, several things I can't even think of now would make it hard to adapt, maybe we'd have to jump through different hoops than the ones we had when moving to the UK, yet I can't help but feel that overall it would've been so much easier.
One the flight back I was a bit sadden by all the troubles and tribulations that could have been avoided had we made a different geographic choice. How much simpler it could've been. How much closer to home we could be on so many aspects. I envied all the foreigners living in Paris for how easy they had it.
But that's all neither here nor there. At the end of the day I know all those feeling and thoughts were nothing more than a meaningless fancy born of the desire to cling to my own hometown. I love living here, I moved to this country for a variety of reasons and I wouldn't change any of it for the world. Sure, when in Paris it all felt a bit like a lot pointless pain and effort to go through when in comparison, but deep down I know everything I experienced as a foreigner, despite how steep the learning curve, was worth it. This is the country where I fell in love with a truly wonderful man. It's where our home is. Where I got the best job in the world. And it's I hope to spends many happy decades. Where I wish to build my future. This is now my home.
And Paris will always be there, just a flight away. Waiting to be rediscovered. Again and again.
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