a. Paris is more hard-core than any city in the Netherlands. Amsterdam is full of marijuana, but that just makes it feel like an adolescent boy's favorite hang-out rather than anything seriously sketchy. The Paris I experienced coming out of the train station (Gare du Nord, if anyone knows it) felt like the ghetto and smelled (predictably) like pee rather than pot.
b. People here pay more attention to their appearance than in the US or the Netherlands, however much I am loathe to admit it. I felt quite surrounded by chic people as I walked down the platform, especially in comparison to the Netherlands, which isn't the most fashionable of countries. I did feel a great surge of triumph, though, when one of the really fashionable girls burst into American English when she was met by her boyfriend. Hah! Not all of the beautiful people are French!
c. My new don't-look-anyone-in-the-eye skills kicked in as soon as I stepped off the train, and good thing they did. Lots of drifters, lots of loiterers. This contributes to the hard-core feeling of the city. Before I had even walked the few blocks to the Metro I was accosted by a boy calling me pretty, asking me if I was from the area, and if we could talk sometime. This, despite my bedraggled appearance, or, perhaps, BECAUSE of the "young American girl on a backpacking trip all alone" vibe I was radiating like the sun.
Guys, you would be so proud of me! I didn't make eye contact, I didn't smile all the way (one corner of my mouth did creep slightly upwards, but mainly because I was congratulating myself for understanding what the boy was saying), and I said one word: "Non". And then I was past him! I win!!
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| This is me feeling tired on the train. This is a true-to-life photograph. WYSIWYG*. No airbrushing, no photoshop. I didn't even smile for the camera. |
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