Expect the Unexpected

Expectations. I believe that when given adequate time to ponder, most of us will try and conjure up a pretty good scenario of what is going to happen, or how something will feel. For the most part, my predictions don't even come close to the real deal. Even still, whether it is just a subconscious effort or not, we all have expectations to some extent.

When I dreamt of what Paris would be like, my brain mixed together all of my favorite films set within the city, and I was certain I would recognize enough to at least navigate a little bit without a map. (That was a pipe dream.) I also envisioned the street where I would live, it would be decked out with cafés and flower shops, and I would feel so small surrounded by those towering buildings. Upon arrival however, I learned that the standard Haussmann architecture in Paris only had around 6 stories per building, and that most streets did not even have a single shop or café on them. So to my fellow daydreamer, future expat, or even just a city hopper looking to get a better idea of the accuracy of Parisian stereotypes before you go, here are the expectations vs. reality that I learned while adjusting to my new life in the city of lights:

EXPECTATION: Everyone in Paris is rude.

REALITY: Everyone in America is overly nice.

If you are reasonably polite and attempt to use the minimal amount of high school French you still remember, the French people will gladly accommodate you! For the most part, they loved practicing their English with native speakers. It was only when American tourists came through and just expected the French to know English, that yes, one could expect to get a little bit of a cold shoulder. But in The States, we just love to talk to everyone. The French are more reserved, and do not feel it necessary to smile at you in passing, or chat about your kids while checking out at the grocery store. It is merely a matter of culture, not kindness. In my whole two years there, I only met one rude French person and even she was not all that bad.

EXPECTATION: France has the best food you will ever eat!

REALITY: Bonjour McDonald's.

I come from a family of amazing cooks, and with my knowledge of French cuisine, I kind of just expected that I would be eating Michelin Starred food every night for dinner. Realistically though, I gained an unhealthy addiction for highly processed chocolate cookies and fell into the frozen meals trap. The good food definitely exists, but keep in mind that the bad food does too.

Another thing to note is that Costco sized grocery warehouses do not exist, rather, there are small supermarkets and épiceries with very limited selections of whatever it is that you are looking for.

EXPECTATION: The streets will waft smells of Nutella, crêpes, and baguettes.

REALITY: I think I picked up secondhand smoke.

Some days I felt lucky if I could go every two or three people without having to hold my breath from all the smoking. Parisians are human chimneys! Do not even get me started on the urine smells, and how much worse they would be on a hot day. To top it off, it is a city. So unless you are in a park, then you cannot smell earth. Just smoke, urine, and car exhaust. Whomever put the idea in my head that Paris smells delicious, I would like to send you to the Pacific North-West with free airfare.

EXPECTATION: Berets. Thin mustaches. Striped shirts with suspenders.

REALITY: Black attire. Scarves. Perfectly coiffed hair.

Girl please, Parisians have so much more style than that! But to be fair, every Parisian's closet that I went through had a striped white and black tee shirt (or two) in their closet.

EXPECTATION: They smell bad, and the women never shave.

REALITY: Hannah in hypnosis.

I do not really know where these stereotypes come from, but I am so glad they are all just a hoax. I regularly missed my turn on the street because I would become mesmerized by the cologne smells wafting from the person walking in front of me. And not only were the women hairless goddesses all the freaking time, but they also managed to shave without needing to reach for the Hello Kitty bandages. Like I said: goddesses. 

EXPECTATION: Lots of dating.

REALITY: Forever alone.

It is the city of l'amour after all, so I had this idea that everyone was constantly trying to woo each other. Makes sense, non? No! Dating is a bigger deal in the United States. In France I found that you only date somebody if you both are already interested in steady dating each other. How you get to that point without going on dates is still beyond me. One thing is for certain: if you fail to find somebody for your own, then you will never feel more single than you will while staying alone in the most romantic city in the world. Trust me, I know.

One final [soul crushing] reality which was really the hardest of all to face...

EXPECTATION: Mimes.

REALITY: Crushed dreams.

Man, I was so excited to see those striped-shirted men with suspenders, painted white faces, white gloves, just performing their act on the streets; walking down stairs without even needing a staircase. But to my dismay, there was not a single mime during my two years in Paris! I truly did not see that one coming.

The biggest lesson I learned about expectations while living in France was that while it is fun to daydream about the what-could-be's, if you let yourself get too carried away with your raised expectations, then one day you will find yourself faced with disappointments. This can be applied to more than just mimes and thin mustaches. For example, while planning trips to new locations, try not to focus too much on everything that you want to fit into your schedule. Instead, pick a couple of must-do's and let the rest happen on its own. France taught me the c'est la vie attitude, and reminded me that it is OK to go with the flow. I learned that by easing up on my predictions and just trying to enjoy whatever life presented me with right then, that the outcome would surpass all of my wildest expectations and create wonderful memories. 

Dream big, live bigger, and expect the unexpected.