The article you are about to read was drafted yesterday in an attempt to document the day spent in Montmartre and not forget it. It was the weekend, and as usual, I went out for a relatively long walk to enjoy my time and break the work overload. I tried to enjoy my day after a long week of work. I have been trying to find a work-life balance, which I don’t believe exists, and not let work overwhelm and stress me. However, this past week was specifically tiring. I was traveling and then returned to Paris to resume a busy schedule from home.
Initially, I hoped to spend the weekend out of Paris. Potentially in Normandy or the countryside in Ile-de-France, but I was too exhausted to plan it out. So, instead, I decided to stay and enjoy my time in the city.
Memories
A friend of mine sent me a reel on Instagram of Halle Saint Pierre, located close to the Sacré-Cœur in the 18th district in northern Paris. It is the district I lived in during my first three years in France and holds a special place in my heart. I still go to Montmartre occasionally but haven’t been to Saint Pierre’s Hall in a long time, although I was a few weeks ago in Upper Montmartre.
I remember spending so much time in the Hall when I was doing my master’s degree, studying or reading books, and having coffee. The atmosphere there is very unique, and Montmartre, in general, is magnificent. Today, I went to get a book from the library. After that, I sat at a big table while two other people were talking at the same table. They spoke English with an American accent, and I figured they were Americans. I had my book with me. I started reading it last week, titled “Tuesdays with Morrie,” and am already halfway through.
Reflections
With every chapter I read, I shed a tear and sometimes fought the urge to cry, but with no success, I ended up silently crying. The man sitting to my left was engaging in a captivating and enjoyable conversation with a woman. Suddenly, he turned to me and asked about the book I was reading, which sparked our discussion. It was a simple turn of events, but we quickly delved into a conversation about the influence of teachers and how a single teacher can profoundly impact a person’s life. The book I was reading tells the story of a dying professor who meets his former student, Mitch, 16 years later. Through their reunion, Mitch learns valuable life lessons from his old professor, Morrie. Perhaps Morrie reminded me of my English teacher, Mr. Tarek, who passed away in 2020.
Talking with Joe and his guest at the Hall was heartwarming; he was lively and kind enough to share valuable experiences and memories, even though we were strangers. After a while, Joe and his guest left, and we said goodbye. A few minutes later, another lady named Sylvine, who was no longer a stranger to me, arrived to see the exhibition on the second floor of the Hall. The Hall frequently hosts exhibitions featuring various artists, and she came to check out the current one.
Little Moments
She seemed like someone who truly enjoys exploring new places, discovering different cultures, and appreciating art. We found common ground in our interests in traveling, art, and exploration. Life is indeed a long journey filled with discoveries and experiences. It was delightful because, in Montmartre, people are approachable and friendly, Sylivine said. I couldn’t agree more; I somehow shared a few words with two Americans at a table. Then, switched to French and exchanged with a French woman who happened to enjoy art and life.
Having these conversations with total strangers was heartwarming. Somehow, it gave me a chance to reflect and think of everything that led to that moment: me, living in Paris, visiting Montmartre for a casual afternoon coffee, and having lovely conversations with strangers in English and French. I can’t help but feel immense gratitude for it all. I cherish these moments that make up my life in this big city. They give me the chance to connect with people and observe human relationships, which is always incredible. There was something magical about those conversations. In just a moment, we parted ways, filled with joy and happiness. It was simply like that!