I have been living in Paris since November 2017. At least if life in a small town north of Paris for almost a year counts in as well. Though it is not my first time in Paris. I have been here before. A few years ago, as an intern.

I am a medical doctor in Paris and working in one of the most prestigious hospitals in the city of lights. However that does not make me feel whole, nor accomplished or some sort of happy lad living the perfect life. It was a long fight to get here, a long waiting as well. I did not believe it at fist, I could not be sure it was actually happening when it did, yet there it was. In the shadow of one of the greatest healers of our time, descendant from Broca the renowned surgeon. In the shadow of Broca. I still hope to write a book today where I may tell all those stories I can not uncover right now. I hope that one day I will have something worthy to tell.

The population of Paris is of about more than 2 million and there are at least 12 million souls living nearby. I am but a grain of dust in a desert sea. It is so easy to feel alone, isolated. After a while you even start imagining things. It makes you…no, it pressures you to make certain decisions and choices you might have not made otherwise. Not back in your home town. Not in the life you have left behind. And waking up at 6 to work up to 6 in the evening does not help either. But I’d rather do it like this and feel appreciated and having a sense of accomplishment for the things I do than go back to a life with no perspectives where you are expected to run from town to town in order to bring bread to the table. Not that I am rich here, but I can manage and that is a feeling I really like.

Happiness… well let’s not talk about that. It is not something you should actively seek. It is a weird concept that you can not reach. The other characteristic is that happiness does not last because once you have it you get used to it and it is gone. I don’ t know if I am happy. I try however to not seek it, to not question it. Doing the things I like is my best chance. And in Paris you may do lots of things. You just need to know where to look. Here the world is open in all directions. You can literally do anything you want. So, why not be happy?

Love is hard to find in Paris. It may be the city of love but it is not a good city for the introverts. And then there is the cruelty of it all. A different society, with different rules, views that do not align with anything you have learned. We are thought that french people are xenophobes… and then you realize that we all are. Grandpa hated gypsies, grandma disliked her neighbors, uncle Tom spoke bad of the Jews and aunt Cornelia did have a thing against black people. And you say french people are strange… We all are. So what is stopping us to love in Paris? What makes us hesitate and be filled with mistrust? It is our personal fears of course…

And the rent, oh that damned awfully expensive rent for a small one room apartment in Paris. It has something special to it. Makes you want to have friends. To share the rent. Forces you to. So… who’s my next “colocataire”? For I am living in Paris.