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Civilization has a natural resistance to improving itself

By unprofoundobservations

While Paris has decided it's not quite ready for the spring and would like to throw the entire populace off by once again snowing 2cm, I am determined to begin spending time outdoors and sightseeing as though the Champs Elysee weren't covered with slush. While I am determined to fully experiences Paris' greatest gardens and monuments in the spring when they're slightly more impressive and slightly less grey, it seems that this won't be for some time so I have to get a head start. Thanks to time spent with my fabulous aunts who happened to visit the city this week (yes I do mean Paris, not New York) I thoroughly explored L'Orangerie, the catacombs, and some of the less-touristy and more-delicious arrondissements. With my program, I was able to visit Chateau Fontainbleue - one of the oldest in France - and take a walk through the surrounding village. Aside from the food which was quite fresh, this week has been an exploration of Paris' past. I'm a bit saddened to see what has changed in the city over the years, but more impressed to learn what has stayed the same. I love living in a city with entire blocks that were built around the time of America's founding, and have a deeper appreciation (literally) for what it takes to keep such an urban center thriving for hundreds of years.

Though I suspect the catacombs are the sort of tourist attraction that very few Parisians outside of elementary school tour groups partake in, they were fascinating and impressively well ventilated. As opposed to catacombs or burial monuments I've studied in other cities, the Paris Catacombs (like the French themselves) are extremely practical, elegantly displayed, and only somewhat organized. As the tunnels wind deeper and deeper underground, walls of femurs and skulls begin surrounding visitors. These are usually accompanied by an engraved slab detailing which cemetery these remains were transported from and in what year, and other small slabs with various French and Latin quotations on the nature of death. The bones are artfully arranged, but clearly not intended for any sort of commemoration or preservation. On the self-guided tour more attention is given to the geological history of Paris as seen through the stone walls of the catacombs than to the men and women entombed there. While I can only imagine the consequences of not emptying a city cemetery every few years, it's arresting to consider the sheer number of Parisians who have lived, loved, thrived or struggled, and died in Paris before I even had a chance to experience the city.

To this day Paris is a city with a far greater emphasis on experience than preservation. Though it has a rich culture to offer all of its visitors, I would argue that many afternoons are better spent walking through the streets and grabbing a café than racing through museums. Dinners last up to three hours for a reason and I doubt the 35-hour work week will change any time soon. While as an American in Paris I may become angry with a metro that doesn't always feel compelled to run on time and a customer service culture that's virtually non-existent, it's all an integral part of la vie Parisian. While all societies adapt and improve in some way over time, the French mentality reached its practical and elegant peak centuries ago. Though I may disagree with the French's lack of punctuality and obsession over what meat exactly they are consuming in their frozen lasagnas, I will say that it is becoming increasingly easy to identify a person, action, or phrase that is quintessentially Parisian. Like bread, wine, and cheese, Paris should be enjoyed slowly and over a great period of time to fully appreciate it. If visiting or living take your time, soak up a little history, and understand that Paris has only improved with time.

Except for French bread. This is always to be eaten day of, potentially while walking down the street to your morning class. . . .