Duke Diary Dispatch: Do as Parisians do, and learn to 'Flâner'

In France, Duke student Isabella Helton is learning how to slow down

People relaxing in a garden in Paris
People relaxing in Place des Vosges, a public square in Le Marais, a section of Paris. Photo by Isabella Helton.

This is the latest in a series of diary entries by Isabella Helton, one of a group of Duke students who will write about their summer travels for Duke Today. Read more of Isabella's entries here.

Coucou mes amis— c’est Isa, writing to you from the Place des Vosges, the most ancient place (public square) in Paris. Today I’d like to begin with a confession. It’s nothing grave, and it’s not the gigantesque number of pistachio macarons that I’ve eaten since I arrived (because I’m happy to own up to the fact that the number is easily over 10). Rather, it takes the form of an unsavory character trait that I believe many of us have acquired in the past decade or so. My confession is this: I have a terribly difficult time relaxing; I cannot consciously arrive at the basic human act of doing nothing. Luckily for me, I’m in Paris; I’m surrounded by a people who are experts in the art of repose. In the city of the three-hour, multi-course lunch, the city of the treasured apéro, and the city with an interdiction on the number of hours worked per week, I am learning how to personify the French verb “flâner”. 

“Flâner” doesn’t have an English translation, but it can roughly be understood as the act of wandering or strolling while being fully engaged in the present moment, without any thought of the past or the future. In the past week, I’ve been trying to embrace this French habitude and have really succeeded in succumbing to flânerie.

Over the weekend, I waited an hour in line for a cafe a friend was hoping to visit, and spent an hour-and-a-half chatting over a chocolat chaud (hot chocolate) and a tarte fraise (strawberry tart). On Sunday, I spent the afternoon exploring the Marais (a young and bustling quartier in Paris) and stumbled upon an enormous vintage market where I searched the racks for an hour or so, and then savored a delicious Nutella crêpe as an afternoon snack. Yesterday, after class, I zig-zagged through the bustling rues of the second arrondissement, where I discovered dozens of Japanese restaurants I’m anxious to try and petite markets selling a variety of Korean and Japanese food and cooking supplies. When my feet got a bit tired, I took a rest at a matcha cafe, and observed the people who passed me by from a table facing the cobblestone rue.

Normally, I would never allow more than an hour or two to pass while doing nothing that fits my definition of a productive activity. Here, I’m learning to embrace a different pace of living that prioritizes time away from work and worry each day. I could tell you about the tours of the Paris Opera and of the Musée d’Orsay— which were both fantastic—, but I’m hoping to give you a glimpse of this strange side of French culture that compelled the barista at the last cafe I sat down in to ask me to leave when I pulled out my laptop (laptops in most cafes here are strictly forbidden!!). In any case, I hope both you and I can learn something from this French perspective and I look forward to our next visit. The next pistachio macaron I eat will be for you!