"Perfection"...Who Needs It?

Since I have lately been gleaning endless blog material from my French class, it should come as no surprise that I am keeping the trend going with this entry. That said, in class earlier this week, we spoke about the ideal city. Apparently, there was a poll performed a couple of years ago where opinions of citizens from 14 different world cities were gathered. The pollers asked these people if they thought that the "ideal" city existed and, if so, where it was.

The consensus was that the perfect city definitely did not currently exist, however, the poll-ees had a pretty concise idea of what this "urban nirvana" would be. Using what seemed to be a Mr. Potato Head model, the people just picked and chose what they wanted from various existing places in order to complete a whole, albeit imaginary, picture.

The results of the study illustrated that the ideal city would encompass the quality of life in Sydney with the location and cleanliness of Los Angeles. It would proffer the beautful architecture of Prague and the booming economy of Singapore and Peking. The public transportation system in this mythical land would emulate that of Tokyo, it would boast the cultural diversity of New York, and the easiness of meeting others that can allegedly be found in Berlin. Most bizarrely, it would possess the feeling of "love" that supposedly floats around Alexandria (umm, not sure if that is the case en ce moment, but the poll was performed a couple of years ago. So maybe now the "love" city role model would currently be somewhere else as seemingly arbitray as I found Alexandria to be--like Reykjavik). The final component showcased in this imaginary mecca is that it would encompass the myriad cultural offerings of Paris.

So you might wonder what one is to do with that information? I mean, besides incorporating it into an adult French class to force les etudiants to make sentences of comparison using various tenses of verbs. Well, I cannot answer for everyone, but I will tell you what I did with the information: I filed it away in a bin called "rubbish." Because such a poll I find utterly inane, and my assessment of the people polled (whom I obviously do not know) is that they were huffing glue.

Admittedly, I am not the best audience for such a hypothetical question. Other than Alice in Wonderland and very few other exceptions, tales involving fantastical representations of life do not sit well with me. I don't really relate to the idea of imagining a life that could never actually happen, and it troubles me to think that my fellow human beings might be living under serious disillusionment. Because, really, don't they know that if this "perfect" place did exist, it would become overpopulated, overpolluted, and subsequently overrated in no time flat? Thus, its "perfection" would crumble before it was ever enjoyed. (Oh irony, there you are again).

Also, haven't these poll-ees considered that this whole "perfection" shabang has allegedly been done already? If it were to come to fruition again, who is to say that Adam would not stroll on in and grab an apple from his buddy Eve and the whole thing wouldn't go to pot in two flashes?

Just to be clear: I am definitely pro finding a locale to live that suits your lifestyle and temperment. I see no reason why someone should settle for environs that do not make them happy, that do not resonate on a personal level. And the fact that I have tried living in multiple cities on multiple continents since my early twenties lends conviction to that stance.

Thinking about this poll, however, had me thinking about life in general. And here is why the poll irritated me: in life, perfection is not an option. It is not an option in a city, nor in a partner, in a vocation, and, unfortunately for me, in hairstyles. It is true that for something to be a truly wonderful factor of your life, then you definitely need glimpses of perfection (whatever it means to you), you do need snapshots here and there to keep you going when things are less than perfect. Because they sure will be "less than" a good deal of the time. And I think that is not such a bad thing, because I think part of loving something and really appreciating it and knowing it-whether it be a city, a person, a passion, or whatever--is to really see the imperfections.

And so it is with me and Paris. I love Paris. Of this fact, there is no doubt. At this moment in my life, there is no other place I would want to be. No matter what happens or where I eventually end up physically, I imagine that I will always feel connected to this city to which I formed an attachment so many years ago. I truly delight in being here. But is Paris perfect?

Hardly.

But the more important question: would I want it to be?

Never. Because the thing is that I learn so much from the imperfections of this city. The gloomy weather and the chainsmokers lend it a unique ambiance that simply could not be found in Sydney or L.A., with all the sunshine and outdoorsy athleticism. The architecture is varied and flawed, not gingerbread-perfect or impeccably kept up (though breathtakingly beautiful in many cases). The public transportation is really good, but that hardly excludes the trains from being late, the workers from going on strike, or a dusting of snow from throwing the whole operation into cahoots. Paris is a diverse place comprised of many nationalities and ways of thinking, but it is also decidedly French with many "rules" and traditions that clearly deny the recognition of different or "other" customs. It has the reputation of being a city of love. And it is just that. Sometimes.

And so we have arrived at the crux of my thought process: Paris is not "always" one thing. And that enables it to be at anything at anytime. Even perfect. Sometimes.

That poll we talked about was obviously no more than a hypothetical question used to ellicit thoughts on how to improve the world's cities and not something designed to encourage people to actually view perfection as feasible. But it still made me think about how much we all strive for "perfection" in so many aspects of our lives. And doing so is not only futile but is also misguided. If living abroad has taught me anything, it is how much more exciting, memorable, and instructive are life's imperfections.

Needless to say, if that perfect city ever comes to fruition, you won't find me living there. Me and my flawed self would never fit in anyway, so I will happily stick with some place with character.