Jamie | Day 3:

The Paradox of Poise

“He who contemplates the depths of Paris is seized with vertigo. Nothing is more fantastic. Nothing is more tragic.Nothing is more sublime.”

― Victor Hugo

One of the powers of travel is that it helps us discover who we truly are. When we strip away everything we know around us, we’re left with just our core, or perhaps better said in french, notre cœur (our heart). This paradox of travel — the tension between the unfamiliar and the true self— is particularly poignant in Paris, a city of contrasts. Arguably, all cosmopolitan centers are inherently paradoxical, but Paris seems to wear this on its sleeve.

As Seth and I walked home in a damp and grey dusk hour, he said something that I was surprised to hear from someone whose only experience with Paris was the past 28 hours of his life. “Parisians seem to have this beautiful, worn look that exceeds their years, and yet they possess a spirit far younger than their age.” I immediately knew what he was talking about. It’s like the manifestation of the idealistic cynicism that I encounter in so many conversation with my French peers.

As we made our way back to our apartment and retreated to our separate rooms, I thought about how my mind was already starting to assimilate to the thinking here (while my body clearly has not, as I was up until 6am again). There’s something in our whole act of being here that is fundamentally idealistic—the idea that by going against the grain, following our instincts and investing in real life connections, we can make our product better. But where is our cynicism?

As American’s we’re conditioned to think criticism and negativity are bad things. That’s why we’re always feeling “great!’ our businesses are always going “really well!” and our families are “better than ever!” It’s as if it’s not okay (no, it definitely isn’t) to be sad, scared or cynical while also believing in our ideals. Scientists say that the physical act of smiling can make us feel happy. But what happens when your mouth muscles become strained and fatigued—can that have the opposite affect on our spirit?

I wonder if after a few weeks in a setting where cynicism is more socially embraced, if we’ll feel comfortable enough to let our inner cynics, sadness or discontent emerge in a way that feels like less of a faux pas and more like a way of life, as it does for the French. Where we can both wear our battle scars on our sleeves and also embrace a childlike sense of wonderment. The conversations I’ve had the last few day have made me realize that we all share many of the same feelings and needs in our cœur, and it’s our culture that teaches us how to express them.

Who did you meet?

I had a great meeting with one of the founding members of Expedia in France. He told me about his New Yorker and Parisian roots and how his travel adventures. It was a taste of home in a foreign place and got me even more excited about what we’re here to build. I also met a couple of other entrepreneurs at our coworking space.

What interaction stood out most and why?

I ended up eating dinner at a restaurant/bar downstairs from our apartment. I was writing on my iphone and gawking at photos of my newborn niece, when an elderly woman next to me grabbed my phone out of my hands and threw it down on her table, scolding me for being rude, then slapped my hands. It was hilarious. We ended up chatting for the next hour. I think I understood about 20% of what she said, and she probably the same.

What was the biggest challenge?

Turning my brain off at night. This is always a challenge, but being in such a vibrant and exciting place with amazing people (coupled with jetlag) made it particularly tough.

What new ideas did you have?

I am going to start journaling again. With a paper and pen. There’s nothing quite the same and it’s a truly rewarding experience.

What did you discover about yourself?

At about 22.00, I realized I hadn’t eaten all day and decided to walk downstairs and grab some takeout. I walked along the Avenue Parmentier for about 20 minutes looking for a place where I might get takeout. Finally I saw a restaurant that advertised salads and burgers, which seemed perfect. I walked in and luckily the guy behind the counter spoke English and I asked him if I could order something to take away. He looked at me speechless for what felt like several minutes, then turned to the other waiter, relaying my request, and I suddenly had two guys staring at me with a mix of confusion and potentially disdain. Now I’ve lived in Europe many times before and understand take-out is really not much of a concept here, but this was a reminder of how uncivilized we are back home. I hope to internalize that stare and shoot it back at myself next time I try to get takeout rather than have a proper sit-down meal after a long day. It’s a reminder to slow down and not short-cut the small pleasures in life.