Back in Paris
Paris is always the same, but I have changed. I just came back from 8 months straight in Asia, and for the first time I really felt that culture shock that everyone is talking about. Of course I have experienced a mild culture shock before: first time I came back in France after moving to Tokyo, I was annoyed at hearing people complain again, and the day of my arrival Paris was stuck under piles of snow—which meant that my luggage was, too.
This time was different. I am no longer annoyed or angered by the differences: I’m actually observing them. I’m like a stranger in my own country: I had forgotten that subway doors are not automatic, I am amazed at how people react, and I’m often surprised by how they talk to customers. But no longer annoyed. Just observing. Living with it. Like its no longer my home, like I’m no longer just another individual on the train. I’m more aware of my surroundings, of other people on the train, of fellow pedestrians.
I am also more and less self conscious at the same time. I enjoy being able to feel like an outsider and at the same time have this underlying fear of being found out as a stranger. The pleasure of watching other people live their lives, and the fear of being singled out, especially in such a big city where I used to dwell with ease. I no longer have my habits.
Yet it’s a satisfying status. I can’t wait to meet my “old” friends and chat. Like we used to do. They have changed, progressed in their lives, and so do I. I’m looking forward to our sharing everything.
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