Over the years it seems that Paris has undergone many changes and has slowly evolved into the city that it is today. Despite these changes such as an increase in population and the notable changes that Baron Haussmann made from 1853 – 1870, one thing has remained the same - Paris is an intricate and interesting city, explored by many. As I do my research about the Flaneurs, I can’t help but relate my findings to my own experiences. Recently I spent four months abroad living and working in Northern France at a Canadian War Memorial. During this time I came to better understand and appreciate the French culture and their way of life. At work I would often have locals coming in and trying to explain their way of life to me. The term “la joie de vivre” (the joy of living) would often come up in these conversations. As I spent more and more time, meeting new French people every day and adapting to the French way of life (as best as I could) I started to truly understand what this means. In many ways I didn’t find the French culture to be all that different from my own. Yet, it seems to be portrayed as very different. As time went on though, these little differences in day-to-day life became apparent to me. “La joie de vivre” really is a great term to explain this. It seems that on a daily basis the French culture is much better than us at taking moments to appreciate their surroundings or what it is that they are doing. There, I found myself slowing down and really taking in my experiences and surroundings - something that doesn’t seem to happen as often for me back at home. I believe a lot of this is to do with walking. I cant speak in general terms because I don’t have the experience of living all over France but in my personal experience of the area that I lived I found that for the most part, it seems that more people walk to their destinations compared to here where driving seems to be a popular option. This is for a number of reasons of course but what I would like to emphasize is that walking was a large part of my experience of living in France. In the readings about the Flaneurs it mentions that it is saying something about the life there, that they would have developed a term like Flaneurie or les Flaneurs – meaning to stroll, loiter or to fritter away time. Pg 198 Walking in France, to me, seems to play into the idea of “la joie de vivre”. It is a common activity in their daily lives that is often done even for fun. When I was there I often found myself wanting to set out and wander for no reason other than to explore and to experience the city. There were so many things to see and every street is beautiful and unique. There are also beautiful shops, cafes and boulangeries to discover around every corner. In France, walking doesn’t seem to just be something to get a person from point A to point B. It is part of the experience of the city. The article mentions a quote “now a landscape, now a room” Pg 196. This may seem strange to anyone who has not experienced this, but it is very true. In the streets, everywhere you look there is something beautiful or interesting. This is the same for the cafes and boutiques that line them. There is a blending of indoor and outdoor spaces with the cafes who’s doors stay open and tables and chairs spill out onto the streets as well as the streets which are so decorated that they sometimes give you the feeling of being inside. All of these things can only truly be experienced by walking. I once had a summer job where I was to go around my town looking at heritage houses and describing their architectural features to be catalogued. After a few weeks of going past these houses and writing about them, my boss told me that I was not giving enough detail of the house. I wasn’t capturing the whole scene and feeling of the area nor was I giving enough detail about the features. I couldn’t understand why he would say that because I thought I was doing a great job of describing all of the tiny details of these buildings. He then told me that the only way to truly see these homes was to slow down and walk through the neighbourhoods (rather than drive and stop) and really take in all of the details and the whole feeling of experience. I of course listened to my boss and tried this tactic and it made a world of difference. But, I digress. The point is, to truly experience a city or your surroundings, I strongly believe that it has to be done at a slower pace and thus, by walking. I also really believe that this is something that the French culture has figured out versus the North American culture, which jumps from place to place in the hustle and bustle of everyday life without ever really seeing, or feeling the area. Sometimes we forget to experience “la joie de vivre”!
I was lucky enough to live about 40 minutes and 15 Euros away from Paris by train. So, as anyone would (I hope), I took full advantage of how accessible the city was. I spent time in Paris just about every week. Thankfully, because of the time I had to explore I was able to slow down and really see the city. I had travelled to Paris once before and had about 48 hours to cram in everything I possibly could while I was there. I was literally running down the street at times so that I could get to the next attraction. The problem is that while I was running to see things, I really didn’t see much at all. This time around, my experience was quite different. I went to the city each time with the exact same plan – none. Each time we would stay in different areas and we were free to explore these areas without any particular goal in mind. In a sense, I myself was a sort of Flaneur. There are certain snippets of my memories that really stick out to me. As I consider these memories and why they were significant to me, it seems that the common ground between all of them is that they weren’t planned. Instead they were experiences that I had because I just happened to fall into them while wandering. One of the nights that I spent there, we set off walking outside of our hostel. Eventually we walked down a really interesting and somewhat claustrophobic narrow street lined with international food restaurants, one of a kind furniture shops, art galleries, a boutique full of scarves, and a couple cafes. It was such a strange little mishmash of boutiques and restaurants on this tiny little street that was seemingly forgotten. We continued on exploring the tight and amazing streets. I should mention that one thing that working day in and day out with people from France taught me was confidence in my French speaking abilities as well as enough confidence in my knowledge of the culture that I could comfortably walk around and not feel too ‘touristy’. It seems that my confidence coupled with the fact that I was actually still on vacation and had time to spend exploring lead me to almost naturally (and unknowingly at the time) adopt some of the behaviours of a Flaneur. Much like the Flaneurs would do, I found myself comfortably wedging my body into the crowds while still being able to casually stroll and take in the scene with no real sense of urgency or need to get to some sort of destination. On this particular walk after getting lost probably several times over without even realizing it, I eventually ended up (to my surprise) out front of Notre Dame de Paris with hundreds of people walking and talking and taking pictures. This experience was one of the most memorable I had in Paris. I should probably also mention that we were terribly exhausted and sick of talking and in a bit of a zombie trance so we parted ways in the open space outside of the cathedral for a bit to explore. Alone, I decided to wander around and take in the beauty of the church. What really struck me though as I walked through this area were the crowds of people standing shoulder to shoulder. Having seen this cathedral already many times, I was then able to detach from the touristy desires to take pictures of the building and really take in all of my surroundings. I noticed things about the area that I had never seen before and I was able to really lose myself in the people around me as I imagined the stories of some of the people in this incredibly diverse group.
Another time in Paris, I found myself in the Latin Quarter, again, with nothing to do and nowhere to be. I wandered the streets for a while in what I’m pretty sure were circles and then ended up somewhere at the edge of the Siene River. There were people everywhere and I could hear a brass band playing in the background. In front of me were some stairs so I decided to go down them to see where they led. The stairs led to a passageway about a foot and a half wide which was snug against the large wall of the bank of the Seine. I decided to walk down it while getting splashed by the water and ending up in ankle deep puddles at times (the water is not nice for the record) and then, all of a sudden, I was standing in front of the brass band that I could hear from the top of the stairs. They were too loud to stand right beside so I decided to go up another shorter set of stairs which led me to what seemed like a small island in the middle of the river. The island was absolutely beautiful with flowers, trees and benches everywhere. The band was playing in the background and it was a beautiful sunny day. I sat on a bench and people watched. The park was quite busy and people would come and go quite often. Before I knew it, again I had been lost in thought while watching the scene around me, 3 hours had past.
These experiences were not the only ones that I had like this in Paris, where I was able to aimlessly explore, but they were some notable ones. As I read about the idea of the Flaneur and what they did in Paris, I do feel like I had an experience similar to that in some ways. They speak of the Flaneur as an ideal. They seem to be a person who doesn’t really exist. Realistically I can understand this, because there aren’t many people out there who have no attachments to anything/anyone in Paris, with the time and money to wander around with no real aim. The average person in Paris I would assume is either a tourist looking to rush around and see all they can, or a resident with responsibilities and places to be. I was lucky enough to fall into a bit of a grey area where I wasn’t quite a typical tourist and I wasn’t quite a resident with responsibilities. I must say, that although I have tried, it is very hard to articulate the feelings that I have when I think about my time in Paris. I can never really explain all of the weird and wonderful people and places I saw in my time there, nor will I ever forget them. One thing for sure is that even without having any real concrete connections, I still feel a strange connection to the city that I know became stronger every time I wandered the streets.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
As I begin my final year here at the University of Guelph it seems fitting that I would spend my first days back wandering and exploring new territories and speaking to new people within this city that I will once again be calling home for the next eight months. In the time leading up to now, my life in Guelph hasn’t changed a whole lot from year to year. For the most part I have kept my same group of close friends and I have lived in the same apartment. I have developed my own rhythm and habits here. This year however things have changed. I have spent the last 8 months living and working in France and Prince Edward Island. Now, coming back to Guelph, everything feels new. I live in a new house with new surroundings and many of the familiar faces that I would normally see are no longer here. Having this chance to step back from school has allowed me to reflect on my experience thus far and to decide what I would like to accomplish in my final time here. And so, with this in mind, I was able to explore two new places in my first days back in Guelph. First, I would walk the route to school from my house for the first time. Second, I would take a walk through the arboretum, something I have always meant to do in Guelph but have never taken the time to do so. For each walk I would begin at my two planned starting points (my house and the entrance to the arboretum) and walk until I found a person to speak to. At that point, if they agreed, I would continue my walk with them and allow them to dictate where we would go next. I would bring along several balls of yarn and have them unravel the yarn of their choice along the way. This would leave an obvious trace of the walk since it would be out of place in both environments. It would also give some clues about the walk in terms of direction, pace (tension of yarn) as well as colour preference of the walker.
Originally I wanted to take photos of the people that I encountered. However, I found that the presence of a camera made the first few people that I met uncomfortable and seemed to raise too many questions about what exactly I was doing. I wanted to keep the atmosphere as comfortable and casual as possible where natural conversations happen rather than having it turn into a situation where they are focused on helping me with an ‘art project’. Instead I would document the trace left by the yarn in the environment after I had said goodbye to the walkers. After speaking with several people though, I was amazed at how open they were and what they actually told me. After completing each walk I jotted down notes of what each person said as well as some things I noticed about each person. The notes have become an unexpected part of the project. I had only planned to present these walks through pictures and maps but it seems that the stories, although I am undecided of whether they work best together or separate from the pictures, are an important part of the experience of these walks we have taken together.
Walk Route Number One:
The New Walk to School
About three quarters of the way through my walk to school I met Bill. I found him just up the road from his house at the start of his walk for the day. I asked him if I could join and he didn’t seem to mind.
Bill is newly retired and lives with his wife in Guelph.
He has one son who lives in B.C.
He is happy about the weather warming up again after the few cold days that Guelph had a few weeks ago
He plans to go golfing as much as possible while it is still nice outside
He is eagerly waiting for his wife to retire too (next year) so that they can join their son, his wife and their young granddaughter in B.C.
He was wearing a dark blue ball cap
After his walk Bill was going to go home and have a Bud Light and cut the lawn
Walk Route Number Two:
Explore the arboretum
Here I met Marie, a woman who looked about 70. She had already been walking a bit and was taking a break in a shady part of the
trail. I stopped with her for a minute to say hi and asked if I could continue with her when she was ready.
Marie loves coming to the arboretum because of her love for nature – especially birds.
She grew up on a farm.
Her late husband was a dairy farmer in the London area.
None of her family lives near Guelph
She is a proud grandmother and speaks very highly of her grand kids. I counted six.
She spends lots of time with the family next door who are very good to her
She has white-blonde curly hair and wears red nail polish
She wears the same beige shoes that my Nana wore every day
She has “bad legs” which looked like varicose veins and she alluded to heart problems
To my knowledge, varicose veins are painful and make walking difficult
We walked at a slow pace and she even held my arm at some of the tougher points of the walk
We ran out of yarn
I chose not to take photos of the people themselves and rather let the words that they said and the physical attributes that stuck in my mind produce an image of that person. For each walk I asked the person if they would be ok with me joining them. I also told them that I was interested in leaving a trace of our time spent together with the yarn and asked if they would unravel it as we walked. The reaction was confusion across the board but yet neither of them seemed to have a problem with it. The yarn also had an unexpected role. It seemed to be a good object to fiddle with and keep their hands busy. Although I was lucky enough to find some people open to speaking to me, there was still some awkwardness at times.
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