Some of the most beautiful encounters that I had in Paris came from visiting the same place more than once.
There was a bakery around the corner from my university that sold the most mouthwatering desserts and sandwiches (I’m lying: almost every bakery was mouthwatering), and I would visit sometimes twice a day. There were generally three people who worked there—an older woman, a younger woman, and an older man. I would rush in almost every morning and quickly ask wide-eyed for a pain au chocolat before scurrying up too many flights of stairs to a grammar class. The bakery moved at such a fast pace during rush hour. Every customer knew exactly what he wanted, and, unlike me, he knew exactly how to say it.
I spent a great deal of time finding the right words before getting to the front of the line. I wasn’t comfortable until after the first month. What surprised me though is that despite the hustle of early morning crowds, the younger woman had seen my face so much that she would begin to notice when I was tired or sick. She would always greet me (Salut Madamoiselle!) and ask me if I was well (Ça va?). If she had a difficult customer while I was in line, she would give me a knowing wink. I realized after leaving Paris that she’s one of the people I wish that I could have said goodbye to. If I were to write a novel about my about my time abroad, she would be a constant character that floated in and out of scenes filled with baguettes (viennoises) and sleepy mornings. She, unintentionally, has seen me in my worst head colds and at my brightest afternoons. Who would think that out of all the relationships I made while abroad, I would want to say goodbye to someone like this? It’s amazing how almost every person helps to shape your experience in a different place whether they realize it or not.