The Arrival

On May 17, 2011, at around 4pm I boarded American Airlines flight 44 from John F. Kennedy in New York to Paris. And just like that, I ended my almost five years in New York City, leaving a city that I had once dreamed of living in for another city that I had always dreamed of living in.

The reasons for my departure were complicated: Certainly, an opportunity to work with an organization in a unique capacity was a factor. But on a deeper level, France and I had always had an affinity (although attenuated since my college days). In high school and college, I had dreamed of living and working in Paris, learning the ins and outs of French language and culture, and simply becoming Parisien. I had assumed that those opportunities had long passed me by, so when the chance presented itself to me (with bells), I could not say no.

My last days in New York had been composed of the slow accumulation of goodbyes and loss. Everyday in the last two weeks were filled with a series of "lasts" -- the last time I would see someone, the last time I would go to a restaurant, the last time I would see something I owned. And although every "last" pulled on the heartstrings, I was too busy to fully appreciate the sum of the parts. I have to admit that I avoided facing the fact of my departure as much as I could, since I knew that regrets and heartache were not going to get me emotionally away from the inevitable. All of a sudden, it was my last ride on the subway (4 train to Atlantic Ave.).

The flight from New York was uncomfortable and possibly unsafe. It was staffed with the some of the most unhelpful and rude service staff I have met, nothing on the flight worked, and there were several times when the airplane fell several hundred feet in the air. I thought to myself, "I will have to remember not to take American on my return trip," when I remembered that it was a one-way ticket.

Upon arriving in Charles de Gaulle, I waited an hour for my bags, wrestled them into a taxi and headed to the 16th arrondissement, the location of my temporary apartment. While spacious and comfortable, my thoughts turned to my (formerly) comfortable 2-bedroom, 2-bathroom apartment in Brooklyn. That apartment does not exist anymore; I've emptied it and sold or given off too many elements to re-create it, I thought to myself. I also asked myself, "How was I going to live here one night, let alone three weeks?"

The first three days were challenging. After my red eye flight, I took a quick shower and commenced an extended and exhausting apartment search covering four arrondissements for eight hours a day. I hardly ate, I hardly slept, and the romance of Paris was completely extinguished by looking at less than desirable apartments with pushy brokers who asked for documents I did not have and could not get. During the time that I was not looking at apartments, I was applying for all manner of documentation, running random errands and involving myself in French-style bureaucracy. Each day was filled with awkward interactions, involving terms I had not heard of or had misunderstood. The fact that my cell phone was mostly useless and the internet kept on going out only accentuated the sense of isolation.

Throughout the experience, I continually reminded myself that this was a dream of mine, and I had decided to do this. "This is what you wanted. ....Right?" However, the dream seemed so far from my reality; the gap seemed uncrossable, the goal seemed unreachable. Would I ever reach a point where this would feel like home? Why did I think Paris was right for me? Could I move back to Brooklyn and could I get back that dining table I had sold?

Today (day four), was the first day that I lived a life away from the realities of the move. I walked and walked the entire day: from the upper crust family-oriented 16th, where people sat on café terrasses, to the Trocadero, where the Eiffel Tower revealed itseff in all its glory, from the Hôtel de Belle Villes (and BHV!) to the Place de la Concorde.

Paris is a beautiful city, made more beautiful by the springtime. It was at some point during this day, that I saw for the first time, tiny glimpses in reality of the life I had envisioned in my dreams. I look forward to continuing to bridge those two worlds.