Emily in France 🇫🇷 Officially French!

I sang in public.
And yes, this is newsworthy.
I've never been much of a singer (I'm one of those people cursed with knowing every word to every song and not being able to hit one note). But last week, I stood in a roomful of people and I belted out the national anthem.
My new national anthem.
Yes, folks, I had my French naturalization ceremony last week.
I've technically been French since November, had a French ID and passport for weeks, but the official ceremony, while by no means obligatory, was the culmination of years of effort (and paperwork), and I was dead set on attending (especially because I never had a graduation).
This short ceremony seemed to represent so much more than the twelve years of accumulating documents and sitting in offices all over the city, waiting for my number to be called. It represented, too, twenty-one years of small moments, falling in love with France:
The day, when I was 10, that my father first brought me to Paris and bought me a hairclip of a Renoir painting at one of the bouquinnistes, a trinket I treasured for years.
The day, when I was 14, that I realized that, after three months in France, I spoke a language my parents didn't.
The day, when I was 16, that a mysterious stranger at a New Year's party introduced me to my love of Charles Baudelaire. (And the day, years later, when I realized that Baudelaire and Victor Hugo used to write letters to one another, and I felt a pang of jealousy over a friendship shared by two long-dead men from the 19th century).
The day I decided to move to France, when I was 19, and the days after that, once a year or more, when I decided that whatever struggle I was facing – homesickness, fear that my career wouldn't pan out as it would have if I were in the States, loneliness, financial woes, bureaucratic nightmares – didn't matter: I was staying.
All of those days came together in this moment, when a prefet announced to a roomful of people that we were now French.
I'm not sure I feel truly French – I'm not sure I ever will. (That's another story for another day.) Still, there is something so rewarding about finally having someone recognize the love I have for France in the most French way possible: bureaucratically, officially, and complete with a rubber stamp.
(And a pic with Marianne.)
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Where I'm Eating

It hasn't always been easy to find great Mexican food in Paris, but I can now officially vouch for the tacos (and the chips and salsa!) at Candelaria.
As always, you can find my ever-evolving list of my favorite Paris restaurants here.
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Where I'm Going
1. The Salon de l'Agriculture opened on Friday and will continue through March 2nd. This agricultural trade show is known for bringing loads of farm animals to Paris (the perfect outing for visitors with kids!), but it's also home to a phenomenal number of artisanal products from regions throughout France. I generally try to go during the week, when lines are shorter.
2. Anything Impressionist will always be a major draw for me, so I'm going to be heading to this exhibit at the Fondation Louis Vuitton (which I've been meaning to check out anyway! Apparently it's gorgeous.)
3. I am absolutely going to be taking a dip at this (very bizarre) installation of Swedish baths on the banks of the Seine River. I just need to find a swimming buddy first.
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What I'm Writing

1. Seeing as the Salon de l'Agriculture is back, I thought it only appropriate to journey back to one of my first visits, which I documented for Paste Magazine.
2. As I continue to attempt to eat my way through Paris, I've assembled my list of my favorite spots to eat, drink, and caffeinate in the historic South Marais on my blog, Tomato Kumato.
3. One of the goals I set myself this year was to attempt to do more small, random acts of kindness. I brainstormed nearly 100 ways you can spread joy in the world for Organic Authority.
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What I'm Reading
1. "What is a hole?", my first foray into Caity Weaver's New York Times newsletter "Wait," which explores, at least this week, the sort of linguistic musing that takes up the entirety of my brother and my text chain.
2. This feel-good story about an Italian town that went silent so that the sounds of certain inimitable string instruments could be digitally preserved for posterity.
3. This opinion piece (originally published in the Journal du Dimanche; translated into English for the Local) about whether the French deserve France.
A bientôt !
Emily in France