Today’s guest contributor is my 7 year-old niece Sylvie Rose. An aspiring writer, Sylvie likes soccer, Roblox, and fake nails.
That day we had a party at my house. I was 1 and a half. My cousin Nora Jane and me Sylvie Rose were playing tag with my Uncle Jack! I was eating apple sauce at dinner! I was happy and I was wearing my favorite color!
Today’s guest contributor is my 7 year-old niece Sylvie Rose. An aspiring writer, Sylvie likes soccer, Roblox, and fake nails.
One day I got to go to a cool movie with my parents. The movie was about a good tennis player named Serena. I like that she did really cool matches and won trophies. She made me think it was me!!!
©Danesh Mazloomdoost
“Once in a while we meet a gentle person. Gentleness is a virtue hard to find in a society that admires toughness and roughness. […] Gentle is the one who does ‘not break the crushed reed, or snuff the faltering wick.’ Gentle is the one who is attentive to the strengths and weaknesses of the other and enjoys being together more than accomplishing something. A gentle person treads lightly, listens carefully, looks tenderly, and touches with reverence. A gentle person knows that true growth requires nurture, not force. Let’s dress ourselves with gentleness.” –Henri Nouwen
One evening several weeks back, I experienced a transformative moment that continues to stir in me. It was a delicious fall evening. The air was cooling, and the trees were still green. Night had not fallen, but the blue hour was approaching.
My friend and I were leaving his office, laughing about God knows what. When we stepped out, we encountered a young woman in crisis. Her clothes hung off her bony frame, she was covered in sores, and she seemed to be doing some sort of distressed dance on the lawn.
I was startled and scared for her, and I froze. My friend maintained his calm. He approached her gingerly and asked what was wrong. His voice was steady and soothing.
The young woman was apparently addicted to heroin, had been clean for seven months, and had recently relapsed after the death of her uncle. She was sobbing. Her story was disjointed, but her fear was clear.
She asked us to call an ambulance to take her to the University of Kentucky hospital. As we waited with her, my friend maintained his compassionate, caring way. He saw her, acknowledged her, and validated her. He trod lightly, listened carefully, looked tenderly, and treated her with reverence. Though I mostly stayed quiet, I held a space of compassion for both of them.
Within about 3 minutes, firefighters, EMTs, and police officers arrived. The lights and sirens were jolting, and it must have been overwhelming for her to suddenly be surrounded by nine men in surgical masks. But they were kind to her and helped her to the ambulance. As she lay on the gurney, she thanked us profusely.
I have always admired my friend’s steady demeanor. He is a gentle soul through and through. That evening he reminded me that gentleness is life-giving. His tender approach fortified a young person in crisis. He helped her find the courage to wait for the ambulance and to maybe seek help.
His gentleness also nourished me. I witnessed its power to soothe and effect change. After a long day at the office, he exercised focus, restraint, and compassion. I aspire to this. I have since deepened my commitment to gentleness and its beauty. I imagine wearing it like a cloak, flowing softly and creating an aura of safety and tenderness.
Inspirations
We’re giving hugs again, gathering around tables with friends, and some people are even planning summer travels. We are “learning to human again.”
I purchased my little aloe plant in fall 2020, when COVID cases were on the rise in the U.S. Tending to my house plants distracted me from the scariness. Months later, I can’t help but smile every time this scrawny pandemic plant catches my eye. He is thriving but on his own terms. This aloe refuses to grow straight. I have gently tried to rectify this countless times. Quietly, yet firmly I have encouraged him to “Stand tall. Reach for the light.”
But this charming aloe is a pandemic plant. He is comfortable hanging over the edge of his terra cotta home. Good posture doesn’t matter to him. He languishes. He is twisted and a little gnarly. I have come to admire his commitment to growing crookedly.
I, too, have carved a twisty path in the last year. Though I have not lost any loved ones, I have dealt with disenfranchised grief—the unnamable sadness that accumulates with continued disappointment and “small” losses. Travel, weddings, family meals. I have felt guilty for feeling sad. What business do I have grieving when I’ve suffered so little compared to others?
As I “learn to human” again, I like to think that my aloe is “learning to plant” again. I have an affinity for his hunched nature. Standing tall is not necessarily easy. Getting out into the world after more than a year of isolation is odd. We are both off-kilter right now, but as the time is right, we are branching out.
Forsythias dotted my early pandemic walks. Against a still-grey landscape, the vibrant flowers announced spring. Hope was elusive as the coronavirus emerged, and seeing the forsythias in bloom gave me brief moments of respite.
One year later, it was jarring to see the lemony forsythia blooms peeking out once again. How had a year of sameness passed? Why was I feeling lackluster as the world awakened? The heightened panic of 2020 and 2021 had numbed me, and I’d been plodding along in a pandemic haze.
This spring, the forsythias were painfully and pleasantly piercing. The bright yellow shrubs shot me back to the scary days of last year, but they also brought optimism and a tiny bit of joy. Forsythias are harbingers of spring. Often the first flowers to bloom, they announce a new season. They instill anticipation. And, for me, they cultivate hope.
The word harbinger comes from the Old French word herbergier—to provide lodging for. If you’re a French speaker, think of the words auberge or hospice—spaces of protection and care. In English, the word harbor echoes the sentiment of shelter. Before this spring, I had never understood that a harbinger could serve as both herald and protector. This spring and last, fiery forsythia flowers anchored my outings. Never had I found so much solace in the landscape. Never had nature been so comforting to me.
In Kentucky, the forsythia shrubs have mostly turned green—already! Though spring colors are fleeting, the season’s marvels continue to serve as an escape from the traumas of late-stage pandemic life. The birdsong invigorates, and the dappled light inspires. The world is alive!
Inspriations
Could you ever imagine being able to circumnavigate the city of Paris much like the 16th century explorer Magellan circumnavigated the Earth? Back in the late 19th century, such a form of transportation was made possible through the construction of the Petite Ceinture during the era of the Second Empire in France. In English, it translates to “little belt”, a connotation which rather undersells the immense scope and importance that this railway network possessed.
Without it, the metro transportation system that serves millions of Parisians today may have never existed.
Throughout the 19th century, the Petite Ceinture provided a multitude of functions, whether it involved transporting capital, housing public transit, or even contributing to military defense by supplying goods to French soldiers. The 35-kilometer-long belt provided stops at 29 different stations and could complete a round trip in just under an hour and a half. The efficient layout of the tracks prevented interfering with traffic in the city, thus creating a separation between the urban and transportation industries of Paris.
Despite its closure to public transportation in the 1930s, some parts of the line continue to function today, whether it be near Victor Boulevard in the 15th arrondissement or the Porte de Clichy metro station in the 17th arrondissement. In addition, the northern section of the tracks are currently being used to transport trains between the major stations in North and East Paris. Only 21 kilometers of the Petite Ceinture remain, although traces of the railway are still present throughout different areas of Paris. If you adventure around Montrouge, for example, you may find yourself taking a stroll through the gardens when you discover air vents which used to belong to train tunnels. If you recall the name “Jardin de la dalle d’Ivry”, which translates to “Ivry slab garden”, you can probably guess that such places cover areas where the line used to run. In addition, tennis courts and housing projects make up a majority of the urbanisation projects that have taken place of the belt’s remains.
While the inevitable evolution of the metro system has overshadowed the legacy of the Petite Ceinture , there are still pieces of its history to be discovered throughout different areas of Paris. The railway network continues to leave its mark to this day, whether it be through old tracks or nature trails that take place on its former paths. One does not simply think of the Petite Ceinture as a more traditional mode of transportation without considering its layout as providing connectivity and cohesion to a city bounded by lights.
References
Bretelle, Bruno. «L’action d’une association : l’inventaire de la Petite Ceinture de Paris». Revue
d’histoire des chemins de fer , 40, 2009, pp. 91-107.
Enon, Claire. «La survie d’un délaissé urbain : la petite ceinture de Paris». Architecture,
aménagement de l’espace , 2017.
Photos
https://pt.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petite_Ceinture#/media/Ficheiro:Paris_16e_Petite_Ceinture_prome
nade.jpg
Deep in the heart of Paris, under the Gare de l’Est exists a perfectly preserved relic from WWII. Tucked away behind a secret hatch on the platform rests a WWII bunker completely undisturbed by time and modernization. A set of tunnels was built under the train station to help transport luggage, but when the war began, it was transformed into a safe haven. The bunker was initially created by the French government but was unfinished before the German military took over France and occupied Paris in 1940. Both the French and German government had wanted to keep the trains at this station running because there are tracks that lead into Germany.
Within the solid concrete walls and armored door are the remains of equipment and furniture used during WWII as protection from a gas attack. Although, during WWII, gases were used less than during WWI and instead were replaced with air raid attacks. Historians do not believe the bunker could have survived an air raid attack, but thankfully these were not common in Paris. All of the machines and equipment are in perfect working condition and appear to be “new” from 1939.
As you first enter the double door that is armored against bullets and gas attacks, the cool 59°F air surrounds you. As you travel deeper into the bunker, you will find regulation rooms complete with desks and chairs, telephones, and timetables for 1930’s trains. There are not any food or dormitory spaces because the bunker was only meant to be utilized for 10 hours at a time. You can find control rooms and an engine room as well. There are a few bicycles connected to equipment, which were intended to be used to operate the air filtration system in the bunker if the electricity went out. Along the walls are some German inscriptions and bilingual plans, which is evidence of the German occupation and usage. Marie-Noëlle Polivo writes, « …chaque cheminot français avait derrière lui un homologue allemand. » In English, “[…each French railway worker had a German counterpart behind him.]”
While there were other bunkers under train stations throughout Paris, most have been destroyed and dismantled. SNCF, the French national railway company, has promised to preserve this bunker however, only opening it during Heritage days and for other important events. Only 10 people are allowed in the bunker at one time and tickets sell out within minutes every year, as only around 220 people can go down inside the bunker each year. The tour guides worked hard with SNCF during 2019 to create tours that allow people to explore the bunker with virtual reality headsets.
References
https://www.neverends.net/le-bunker-sous-la-gare-de-lest/#prettyPhoto
https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/wwii-bunker-under-gare-de-l-est
The most macabre tourist attraction in Paris, the Catacombs, was initially a very practical solution to a serious 18th century sanitation problem. Cemeteries in Paris were overfull, so the remains needed to be moved to a separate, safer location underground. The skeletons were taken from many cemeteries around Paris, but primarily from les Saintes-Innocents, a very popular burial location for Parisians from the 12th to the 18th century.
The Catacombs are the final resting place for over six million Parisians throughout history. Beginning in 1785, remains were transferred to the Catacombs nightly for two years and sporadically for several years after that. The work of moving the remains had to be done at night, so that Parisians would not get upset and protest the removal of their deceased loved ones from their initial burial place. A priest accompanied the transfer of the bones and said a prayer for those who were being laid to rest once again. However, despite this care, the remains were dumped rather unceremoniously into the tunnels of the Catacombs.
It was not until Napoleon came to power that the bones were set up in the decorative way that they are today. Napoleon decided that the piles of Parisian bones sitting in tunnels beneath the city were not merely a practical sanitation solution but also a potential tourist attraction. Inspired by the famous catacombs in Rome, Napoleon appointed two men, Nicolas Frochot and Louis-Étienne Héricart de Thury, to turn the Catacombs into a site worth touring. Thus, the bones were arranged artistically and the design of the tunnels chosen very intentionally to appeal to tourists’ more morbid curiosity. One famous example of this is the sign above an entrance to the ossuary which reads: “Arrète! C’est ici l’empire de la mort” (Stop! This here is the empire of death”). These sort of dramatic touches might seem to an uniformed tourist to be the sign of a dark and ancient place, but in reality, they were a 19th century way to aggrandize the Catacomb’s spooky allure.
We might think of the Catacombs as an example of the Romantic or macabre fascinations of earlier ages. However, it is more truthful to understand them, as they stand today, as an intentional tourist attraction—and a very effective one at that. Over 150 years later, tourists in Paris are still happy to shell out €14 for a chance to visit Frochot and Héricart de Thury’s strangely beautiful underground ossuary.
References
“Histoire Des Catacombes.” Paris Pittoresque, www.paris-pittoresque.com/monuments/33.htm.
Karmelek, Mary. “You (Posthumously) Light up My Life.” Scientific American Blog Network,
Scientific American, 15 Apr. 2011, blogs.scientificamerican.com/anecdotes-from-thearchive/
you-posthumously-light-up-my-life/.
“L’histoire Du Site.” Les Catacombes De Paris, catacombes.paris.fr/lhistoire/lhistoire-du-site#.
“The Unbelievable Story of the Paris Catacombs.” Walks of Italy Blog, 6 Feb. 2017,
www.walksofitaly.com/blog/paris/paris-catacombs.
“Death is not the opposite of life but a part of it.”
The Japanese author Haruki Murakami writes in his novel, Norwegian Wood. As human beings, most of us are scared of death; the idea of leaving loved ones behind, the notion of losing the people we most cherish, and the uncertainty of what’s next – yes, death is frightening.
Imagine for a moment though, that you can fully embrace death – without fear, anticipation, or regret. Instead, purely as what it is – a part of life, a natural stage, a process. You may think this is morbid, but try taking a few contemplative promenades in a cemetery, and you’ll be surprised by how much stability and peace meditation on death can bring.
Paris may be less known for death contemplation, but the city of light shines on the dead with as much beauty and artistic splendor as it does on the love birds. Le cimetière du Père-Lachaise stands as evidence.
Located in 20th arrondissement, the Père-Lachaise cemetery is the most visited and prestigious necropolis in the French capital and one of the most famous in the world. Both an English Park with all its ornate characteristics and a place for deep contemplation, the cemetery covers more than a total of one hundred and eight acres and serves as the last home for more than seventy-thousand concessions – celebrities and anonymous alike. Strolling through its green alleys, you can find the resting place of many prominent figures who made significant impact on the history of France and the world – Oscar Wilde, Honoré de Balzac, Frédéric Chopin, Édith Piaf, Jim Morrison, and the list goes on. No other cemetery in the world can boast so many burials of famous figures. Since the cemetery also houses numerous architectural and sculptural works, you can also observe and contemplate different styles of funeral art, from Haussmannian vaults and Gothic tombs to ancient mausoleums and neoclassical masterpieces.
Often buzzling with tourists, bibliophiles, music fans, and other visitors, the cemetery sometimes becomes a place for fun, humor, and celebrations – a way of embracing death; ardent music fans may sometimes pay homage to Jim Morrison with their packs of beer and rock music, while some may recite Balzac’s words. As you walk along the graves, taking some deep breath occasionally, imagine the life stories of the people who lie beneath them, the histories they wrote. And perhaps, you may find the peace you need in your heart.
References
Bizet, Carine and Agathe Aligand. “A Paris, les éternels dormeurs du Père-Lachaise.” Le Monde. (22 July 2019). https://www.lemonde.fr/m-styles/article/2019/07/22/a-paris-les-eternels-dormeurs-du-pere-lachaise_5492229_4497319.html.
“Cimetière du Père-Lachaise.” Paris: Site official de l’Office du Tourisme et des Congrès. (Accessed March 1, 2020). https://www.parisinfo.com/musee-monument-paris/71470/Cimetiere-du-Pere-Lachaise.
“Visite guidée au Père-Lachaise.” Cimetière du Père-Lachaise. (Accessed March 1, 2020). https://pere-lachaise.com/visite-guidee-pere-lachaise/.
“Image 1 and 2: Pere Lachaise Cemetery.” French Moments. (Accessed March 12, 2020). https://frenchmoments.eu/pere-lachaise-cemetery/.
This massive architectural wonder hides many secrets within its walls. Located in the Fifth Arondissement, the Mosque is constructed in the Moorish style, as seen by its arches, courtyards, intricate tiling, and lush gardens. The towering minaret reminds onlookers that the Parisian skyline boasts more than cathedral spires and the Eiffel tower. While impressive from the exterior, the true beauty of this structure lies within. The interior is linked by open-air courtyards surrounding a botanical garden and a bubbling fountain. La Grande Mosquée de Paris offers something for everyone: a school, library, restaurant, tearoom, prayer room, and bathhouse are all found within its walls. However, the Mosque’s worth extends beyond its physical features.
In the years following World War One, France wished to recognize the sacrifice of more than 100,000 French Muslims who lost their lives while fighting for the country. The Muslim Institute and its Mosque stand as a lasting symbol of Islamic culture and faith extending from Paris to the rest of Europe. It is designed to be not only a place of worship, but a haven for Muslims in need of aid. The relationship between the French government and the Muslim Institute serves as an important symbol for Franco-Muslim cooperation.
Undoubtedly, the Mosque as it stands today is the result of the efforts of many influential figures, but it benefited greatly from the vision and commitment of Si Kaddour Benghabrit. A man born in Algeria and granted citizenship in Morocco, Benghabrit worked tirelessly to forge Franco-Arabic ties through schools and as a diplomat and translator who proved to be invaluable to the French. Later in life, he worked to build the Mosque and the Institute from an idea into the structure it is today. From 1922 until 1945, Si Kaddour Benghabrit, in his capacity as founder and director, assured that it could be a place where Muslim students of Paris could interact with other Muslims. Additionally, under his guidance, La Grande Mosquée de Paris played an important role in offering protection to persecuted Jews during World War Two. Due to the Mosque’s location on La Bièvre (a waterway that extends throughout the city) and its extensive caves, the Mosque helped to save the lives of an estimated 1,700 people.
Today, La Grande Mosquée de Paris serves as an important cultural and religious site for Paris and beyond. As the French national identity struggles to incorporate Muslims and other minorities, the Mosque serves as a necessary reminder for the French public. The Mosque’s past and contemporary efforts demonstrate that, through compassion and the remembrance of history, France can reach past its divisions and create something as beautiful and powerful as La Grande Mosquée de Paris.
References
Grande Mosquée de Paris. (n.d.). Kaddour Ben Ghabrit. Retrieved 02 29, 2020, from Grande Mosquée de Paris Site Officiel: https://www.mosqueedeparis.net/linstitut-musulman/biographies/kaddour-ben-ghabrit/
La Grande Mosquée de Paris. (2020). Retrieved 03 02, 2020, from Paris Promeneurs: http://www.paris-promeneurs.com/Architecture-moderne/La-Grande-Mosquee-de-Paris
Les plus beaux lieux d’architecture mauresque à Paris. (2020). Retrieved 3 02, 2020, from Paris ZigZag: https://www.pariszigzag.fr/secret/lieux-insolites/les-plus-beaux-lieux-darchitecture-mauresque-a-paris
LPLT. (2008, 5 5). File: Patio grande mosquée de paris.jpg. Retrieved 3 9, 2020, from Wikimedia Commons: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Patio_grande_mosquee_de_paris.jpg