adventures-in-paris

[adventures-in-paris]

Entry 3: This may term has been great for me, don’t get me wrong—but as a history major in a group dominated by art students, I could only handle so many museums dedicated to a topic that I had little interest in studying previously.  Visiting the Musée de l’armée was a perfect way for me to experience something more up my alley in the midst of endless novelty.  The musée de l’armée, located at invalides in the 7th arrondissement, was built during the reign of the sun king Louis XIV to provide housing for veterans of war.  The location of the museum made the most sense to me after observing the military academy nearby.  Though part of the Invalides is still a hospital for wounded soldiers, the vast majority of the area is merely symbolic—retelling a history of wars and revolution.  Coming into the museum with a background in French history, I expected a certain historical narrative evident throughout the museum.   This was certainly the case, or so it seemed.  As expected with a state-sponsored museum, the Musée de l’armée offered praise of France for its military glory and power from the 18th-20th centuries.  Perhaps the most interesting example I found of a biased narrative was in the 20th century wars section.  World War II exhibits supported the notion that France was victimized yet resistant, with little mention of the collaboration pursued by the Vichy south.  Despite the bias evident in many of the exhibits, certain aspects of the Musée de L’armée reached me in a surprising and profound manner.  One exhibit included a photograph taken at the Arc de Triomphe shortly after the end of World War II.  Standing in the picture were numerous prisoners of war and inmates of concentration camps, who were freed due to the Liberation of Europe.  As I fixed my gaze on the emaciated former prisoners, I found myself incredibly emotional.  Something about photographing those who went hell and back but were still standing is incredibly powerful to me.  The Arc de Triomphe once was a large piece of propaganda in my eyes, but I found the true meaning of the monument exemplified by those standing under it in the photo. No longer was the Arc de Triomphe about the power of France, but of the triumphs of the human spirit in the midst of unprecedented evil. I highly recommend visiting the Musee de l’armée if you’re ever in Paris, not because of the French gloire, but to find personal meaning in a place that’s seemingly designed for one purpose.

[adventures-in-paris]

Entry 5: Considering the historical narrative of dechristianization and a secular culture in France, it may come as a surprise that the city of Paris is one in which religion is emphasized for many communities.  Over the may term, I have had the opportunity to experience and learn more about Islam, Judaism, and Catholicism in France.  Growing up with a Jewish mother, I was more familiar with the historical separation between Jews and Europeans in the 19th and 20th century (and much earlier).  Visiting the memorial of the Shoah left me deeply somber, but not surprised.  Nearly 80 years since the holocaust, there are still very few remnants of the once thriving Jewish community in Paris.  Neighborhoods such as Villejuif hint at the historical settlement by Jews, yet the very few delicatessens and landmarks are nearly all that remains of the Jewish district.  In 21st century Paris, my experiences at a mosque and at mass tell a greater story about the modern religious diversity.  France is a traditionally Catholic country, dating back to the monarchy and the enforcement of the divine right of kings to rule using Catholicism; Islam, however, is relatively new in the grand scheme of French history.  As a history major with quite a bit of background in European Colonization, I understood prior to visiting that France’s Muslim population grew due to a plethora of factors.  One of the most significant reasons that France has such a sizable Muslim population, however, is due to France’s involvement in traditionally Muslim areas in North Africa.  French law makes it impossible to gather statistics on the size of the Muslim population in France, but estimates from the BBC place the number around 5 million, making Islam a rather sizable minority religion in France.  When visiting the Grande Mosquée de Paris, I came in with no idea of what to expect.  The media, much like in the United States, portrays the presence of Islam in France as a source of tension and deep cultural divisions.  While there is some truth to that story due to extremist sects, the experience in the Mosque painted a picture of openness and peace.  Prior to visiting the Mosque, I lacked any understand regarding Islam and its practice in the 21st century.  When the tour guide explained that the five pillars of Islam were the only universal “rules”, I was quite shocked due to the common portrayal of Islam as strict and fundamentalist.  Going to mass similarly left me feeling challenged on what I believed before.  Catholic mass, at the Église Saint-Eustache, was difficult for most of us to understand.  Personally I felt challenged by the French speaking, and hearing the Bible in a different language kept me engaged throughout the service.  Going to Protestant church with my dad growing up, I always viewed Catholicism as a hyper-traditional religion with very little room for a personal relationship with God.  The mass was certainly quite liturgical, but the readings from the Bible about the importance of living for God over the law helped me uncover my old biases about Catholicism.  Though I certainly have not found myself looking to convert at this point in my life, visiting different religious centers around Paris has inspired a deeper curiosity about religions that are outside of my everyday experiences.  

(Photos not available, I did not take any out of respect/being unaware of the implications of photographing these sacred spaces)

[adventures-in-paris]

Entry 4: Anyone looking to visit Paris should obviously see the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and go to some lovely cafes with a nice terrace; however, the parks in Paris are gems that should not be slept on.  Some of the most frequented parks that I visited were Jardin des Tuileries and Jardin du Luxembourg.  My favorite park, however, was Parc des Buttes Chaumont.  Unlike Jardin des Tuileries and Luxembourg Gardens, Parc des Buttes Chaumont was not originally made for those of high society solely.  Parc des Buttes Chaumont was a product of Napoleon III’s desire to expand Paris and transform public spaces.  Formerly a dumping ground and a quarry, the Parc des Buttes Chaumont, once opened in 1867, enhanced the formerly impoverished area that is now the 19th arrondissement.  Visiting the Parc des Buttes Chaumont came as a reminder of the significance of outdoor public spaces for Parisians.  The hilly terrain was covered with people of all ages sitting or playing on the grass, and soaking in the bit of sunshine Paris receives in May.  City life is much more public in general, considering the size of apartments and the types of activities to do around the area; however, the availability and quantity of parks in Paris has ensured that outdoor living is still possible even in the most industrialized areas.  Personally, Parc des Buttes Chaumont felt more comfortable to spend time in compared to other Parisian gardens and parks; this likely has something to do with the difference in atmosphere.  Many parks in Paris are called “Jardins”, and they feature numerous picturesque flowers and fountains.  Personally, the manicured gardens feel almost too well-groomed to comfortably enjoy.  Parc des Buttes Chaumont is lined with more trees than flowers, leading to a low maintenance and more natural appearance.  The park is lined with sidewalks all around, and the bridges over gorges could trick one into thinking that they are in a jungle rather than a city park.  As a park that was made for the people, I highly recommend soaking in the laid back atmosphere or running around freely at Parc des Buttes Chaumont.  

[adventures-in-paris]

A few days ago, I visited Père Lachaise cemetery.  Over the course of the May term, I’ve been to the cemetery three times—it’s massive in size, and certainly worth getting lost in.  The first time I went to the cemetery was brief, as I entered 30 minutes before it closed.  Nevertheless, it was an experience.  Wandering without a map enabled me to hone in on the big picture aspects of the cemetery, and I was subsequently drawn to the placement and spacing of graves as well as the inscriptions on each tombstone.  As someone who only experienced rural American cemeteries prior to Père Lachaise, I was shocked at how close together the tombstones were, and how disorganized the layout appeared in the cemetery.  This is not something I was conceptually unaware of, but seeing the sheer amount of tombstones brought me back to the need to build the catacombs in the 1700s.  Pondering if it could’ve been possible to bury everyone memorialized on the tombstones, I found myself deeply curious about the contents of the ground beneath me.  One big takeaway for anyone visiting Père Lachaise is that France’s Catholic traditions were prevalent in burials, even in the midst of dechristianization following the French Revolution.  Tombs were often adorned with crosses.  Ornate statues of saints, Virgin Mary, and Jesus were often featured sort of guarding the graves.  Each time that I visited Père Lachaise, I stumbled across graves for numerous French people.  Many of them were prominent leaders in different realms of society.  The dominance of French figures in Père Lachaise prompted questions upon finding the grave of Jim Morrison.  Jim Morrison was an American singer who lead the band “The Doors” until his death in 1971.  Upon researching a bit more about his burial, I discovered that his last few years were indeed spent in Paris, as he moved there for a lover of his.  When viewing his modest grave, it seems far fetched that he was a rockstar.  His tombstone was tucked away behind a few others, and it resembled one of a working class Parisian with the lack of ornate designs and relatively small size.  Unlike many of the other graves, however, Jim Morrison’s grave was covered with homemade tributes from fans all over the world.  Though 1960s rockstars might not be the first thing one would look for in a historical Paris cemetery, the grave of Jim Morrison attests to the multicultural hub that Paris has been and will continue to be.  

[adventures-in-paris]

Today in Paris, I was fortunate enough to be able to visit the Place de La Bastille (Square of the Bastille). If you are someone who someone with a background in French History, you may have an idea of what might stand there today.  Though only a pointed monument on a busy intersection exists today, the simplicity of the Place de la Bastille today can be misleading.  July 14th, 1789 is a date that is relatively insignificant outside of France; however, it is celebrated in such a widespread manner ami g the French that it can be compared to July 4th for Americans.  What stood in the Place de La Bastille today was once a large prison.  Though seemingly unlike any other prison in France, the Bastille was important for French Revolutionaries as it housed a large collection of weapons needed to arm the masses.  On July 14th in 1789, members of the french working class as well as anyone who was fed up with the ancien régime, stormed the prison.  Taking the heads of the prison guards and marching around the city, the people who successfully entered the Bastille ushered in an era of revolution.  Today, the Place de la Bastille is a bustling city center with cafés, shops, and businesses.  Though I am sad that the prison no longer stands, the Place de La Bastille still can be viewed as a success because it represents a place in which everyday people are able to move and work freely.  The revolution turned into a bloodbath after the storming of the Bastille, but the power of the people is still evident today in such a public space. Seeing french citoyens living without the shackles of absolutism evidenced the continuity of liberté, égalité, and fraternité.