Last year, just a short while after this time, I posted about a day that I ventured out to a metro stop to find one of Paris' new breweries only to feel unwelcomed and uncomfortable, yet intrigued. The stop is one of the so-called "no-go zones" that is oddly enough, very close to a stop where 1,000s of tourists venture each day to visit Monmarte.

A quick re-cap: Last year, it was the end of Ramadan. It was cold and dreary day. I emerged from the metro to be greated entirely by men pushing cell phones and cigarettes in my face, some from through the bars just outside of the metro stop. I hesitated before deciding to move ahead. The walk was a bit unnerving. There was one stretch during which I really wanted to stop and try the foods and breads, none of which I had seen before. There was one small stop, in particuar, where the men just glared at me.

Fast forward to this year. I really wanted to find this:

http://www.messynessychic.com/2016/10/21/i-found-a-belle-epoque-theatre-hiding-inside-a-paris-shoe-store/

A male friend of mine wanted to go, too. As we walked through the neighborhood to get to it, he was as wide-eyed as I have seen and I was mesmorized by the clothes, the bright colors, and the smells. The women from Africa looked as though they spend a lot of time choosing the most beautiful colors imaginable for their clothes. Men from all over north Africa and the middle east were wearing traditional garb. We walked by a middle eastern womens clothing store and stopped to watch as a group of women wearning all but what covers their face shopped. I didn't want to leave, but we only had so much time.

We finished up looking at the fascinating Belle Epoque theatre, exactly as Messy Nessy describes and started walking back toward the metro. We diverted a bit to take the same path I took this year. It was surreal. It was bustling with women from all over and it was bright and sunny. First, we stopped in what I think is a Turkish bakery to try one of the many breads neither of us have ever tried. Continuing on the same path, down a small street, I stopped and looked across at the shop (It's a store but they cook up some food in it. Hard to describe), when one of the same men from last year pointed at me and called out, "Ici, s'il vous plait!" My friend looked at me as to say, "please don't" as I was already making my move to cross the street.

I have been studying French and am finally starting to feel confident enough to converse some. Here, I had no choice. He took us inside where we found a man standing in the corner cooking up some square things filled with a lot of different ingredients (I think it's called aarathi, or something like that). Feeling as though I had little choice, yet also wanting to try one, I told him what I would like in whatever they were cooking up in a fry pan. While waiting I learned that the store is Algerien and that he runs it and it is largely visited by people from north Africa. They don't get tourists there and were happy to see us. This incredibly filling food was only 2E. In the bakery, the bread and two gigantic waters came to 2E. 

For those who don't travel much, I can see how this might have been intimidating. We definitely got some stares. I know when I get "that" stare and it is unnerving. It is the "I hate you and what you stand for" stare. That is extremely rare, though. What I find mostly are kind and welcoming people who are likely amused that I am there, particularly considering how their enclaves are so demeaned and belittled.

Does this change my concerns? No. These are still the areas suited best for jihadis in waiting. However, they are almost entirely made up of people looking for better lives for themselves and their families. They are anxious to share their foods and customs that so many find threatening or uninvited.

In thinking about it later, first, I thought about what did I think about this time? How what a difference a year makes. This entire city was on pins and needles last year. You couldn't go anywhere without seening men and wome with machine guns. People glared at one another, worried and afraid. The French know the threat, but being here reminds me that like us, they are also trying to figure out how to help those who so desperately need help while keeping everyone safe.

Second, I thought once again about this need we have to preserve cultures. Part of me like that; I love my culture, afterall. But then I thought about how cultures find space, land and then build their cultures in that space and on that land. No particular culture owns land. We essentially rent it and then decide how best to defend that land. That's pretty clear cut. What is not so clear is the how to best preserve the values within the culture that are so very important. Human dignity; rights for all, regardless of age, race, gender, sexual orientation, disability, etc. If that is threatened, then the human race will be threatened.

But, what about the other things that come with the cultures - the dress, the foods, the language, etc? This is where I get tripped up. Humans have moved and shifted as long as humankind has been documented to exist. Will we survive if those things shift and we succeed in preserving the core values of human dignity and human rights? So, I guess what I'm saying is that I don't get all worked up over the issues of cultural traditions, such as those above. I have always thought that somehow, I think we will figure it out. These are no more than the jagged edges of culture clashes. I truly believe that good will always overcome evil. In all human rights focused cultures we have differences of opinions on how to accomplish goals, but no matter how you look at those goals, they are essentially the same. Sometimes, though, I wish we would not worry so much about the individual differences and keep our focus on what is truly important - that all humans want and desire to be free to make their own choices and live a life of happiness.

I conclude by saying that I feel so very fortunate to be exposed to so many different types of people, languages, and traditions. I have no intention of ever stopping what gets me to those places. I "always go left and I always go up."

If you made it this far, wow - thank you. Thank you for indulging me.