The Metro

Before coming to Europe I was amazed at their ability to see the necessity for public transportation. Coming from a small town in southern California, all we have are buses to get us from one side of the valley to the other. I had only ever ridden a train twice, a bus once, and had taken the subway just a few times on visits in San Francisco and New York. I was in complete awe of the fact that no matter where I went in the city I would be able to get home in a matter of minutes by using the metro.

When I first arrived in Paris the metro immediately intimidated me. Fearing the numbers, colors, and changes. I stuck to my line, or following my roommates wherever they traveled. After the first couple weeks I got the hang of it and easily mastered the task. Now I use the metro every single day, whether it’s riding to school or the Eiffel tower. It does smell, it does break down, and it is definitely an experience worth trying.

I think the hardest thing for me about the metro is being surrounded by people. Not just people, but Parisians. First of all, the stereotype that French smell is more often than not, a true assumption. Also, no one speaks while riding the metro. There are days where it seems like a 100 people are crowded into one cart and if a pin were to drop you could hear it. As Americans we are more vocal and social, wanting to talk and converse even on a short ride. We smile at strangers. Say “Bless you” when someone sneezes, whether we know them or not. We respect personal space, and would never push one another. Unfortunately that’s not the case here. People pack into the cars like sardines, without any smile or look of apology. Everyone looks at the ground, newspaper, or the game they are playing on their iPhone. You are being touched on all sides by people you will never come in contact with again.

Every morning my roommate Mackenzie and I enjoy the short stroll from our apartment to the metro stop. We laugh and joke, reliving stories or dreams that we’ve experienced the night before; however, as soon as we step onto that train our eyes drop and we become silent. Sometimes it’s hard and we have too much energy to contain. Occasionally one of us lets out a small giggle and people glare at us, size us up and down with their eyes, knowing right away that we do not belong in their city. You can tell their annoyance and hatred of us just from a small chuckle.

The other night I was on the metro, making my way home from babysitting and I placed my headphones in my ears and cranked the volume. I looked at my boots as I usually do, just counting down the stops until I was home. All of a sudden a new family boarded the metro: a husband, wife, and fairly young baby. The baby was looking all around the metro, observing her environment. Laughing, smiling, making noises. While the metro was not packed full, there were still quite a few people in the cart. Eventually the baby started looking at me, sticking her tongue out and laughing. I started mimicking her facial expressions, which threw her into fits of giggles. Now, in America this is normal behavior and strangers make faces at babies all the time. Apparently it’s not okay to do here in Paris because after a couple minutes the mother picked up the child and spun her around so she was facing the other way. The baby kept looking over her shoulder but the mother wouldn’t let her turn back to see me. Not knowing what to do the baby tried making a new friend, a woman in her mid-twenties. I watched as the baby made faces, and noises while the woman just sat there sans emotion. It was ridiculous.

It seems as if the Parisians don’t care about anyone but themselves. On the metro they are going from point A to point B. They do not want to converse, be disturbed, or have fun. If you are having fun on the metro you will get judged. If you talk on the metro, you will get judged. If you stand out at all you will get judged. It’s just such a sad way to travel. Now that I’ve been here for 3 months I dread the metro. I can’t wait to be home and not get glared at for speaking, laughing, or making faces at babies.