Size DOES Matter

Update: the stye in my eye left a long time ago in case you were wondering! :)

          I’m sure you’ve felt this feeling before. If you haven’t, no worries. Hopefully this account will paint a picture in your mind that’s so vivid you’ll feel like you did. I must admit that I’ve known this for a while and have had the privilege to forget this fact. Luckily, the universe had a funny way of reminding me that the devil is at work on the Internet, with all of the false advertisements and deceiving camera angles. *sigh*

          There’s no doubt that we’d all prefer to find this type of thing the organic way (aka in person), but sometimes this is just impossible. So you turn to the World Wide Web in hopes that you’d have better luck there. Hour after hour, night after night you search relentlessly but your efforts are in vain. You’re so desperate you end up on sites in different languages because finding something is better than nothing, right? Well yes, sometimes. Once you finally find a good prospect, you check out their profile, do a little bit of research, and then decide to reach out to the person behind the profile to see if you can make something work. Your communication with this person is quick but to the point, and you’re finally moving onto the next step—something that hasn’t happened for you in a long time.

          When the day of your rendez-vous finally comes, you’re excited but nervous because this could potentially be the start of something new (cue the HSM soundtrack). You make sure to put your best foot forward and you even bring someone with you for backup in case this meeting goes south. You arrive to the location in a nice area that gives you good vibes, and you think “okay, this might be the one.” Your heart is racing as you get closer and closer and you begin to notice something is off, but you still have high hopes that you’ll be proven wrong. Then your fairytale comes to a crashing halt when the situation fully reveals itself. All you can say to yourself when you see it is, “That’s it?! Where’s the rest of it?” but of course not out loud because you still need to maintain your image of being interested whilst simultaneously trying not to bruise the male ego in the room.

          That, ladies and gentlemen, is how I felt after walking up eight flights of stairs in a tiny staircase and going down a winding hallway to meet a propriétaire (landlord) in a “studio apartment” barely 9m2  (about 96.875 sq. feet for us Americans). I can assure you that I didn’t reveal my utter disappointment on my face once I finally reached the apartment, out of breath no less, although I don’t remember this man stating that a portion of my daily workout would be provided with my visit. I probably should’ve though; he deserves to know that I was not happy at all. It was essentially a room in the old servants’ quarters, located in a dark and poorly maintained building in a courtyard accessed through passage from the main Haussmannian building facing the street (which was actually quite nice). I’ve found that this type of lodgment is pretty common in Paris. Anyone that’s had a small bedroom growing up, myself included, may think, “Okay, so what? My room at home/in the dorm at school was about that big.” Let me remind you the difference between a room that size and an apartment that size. When you try to fit a bed, desk, kitchenette, and a bathroom into that tiny space, there’s little room left to do much of anything.

          Also consider having to store your personal belongings, such as the two large suitcases and one carry-on that you may have traveled with, and then you’ll realize that this amount of space is barely habitable, and should be labeled appropriately as “a room with some stuff in it, that’s sort of okay if you stay in one place and don’t move the entire time you’re here.” I can call a spade a spade and say that yes, I was bamboozled by this listing. It seemed like a decent place from the pictures and description online (my dad who was here at the time agreed), but once my dad and I got to the apartment we were soon smacked in the face with reality. Life was aggressively telling me, “STOP WONDERING ABOUT ALIENS ON OTHER PLANETS AND COME BACK TO EARTH, RIGHT NOW.” Hey, at least now I have a great story to tell about my experience!

          I hope this post can shed some light on why it is that I’m still looking for “permanent” housing in Paris and the craziness that is the Parisian housing market. It’s very hard to imagine unless you’ve had a first hand experience with it. Such has been my pleasure. To give you a glimpse into the housing market: things move fast here, especially for the apartments below the 1000€ (euro) a month budget. It is possible to find a good deal, but a great listing posted a few hours ago may already be unavailable by the time you’re able to call the owner. The best way to find good deals on apartments is by word of mouth or basically knowing someone who knows someone who happens to be moving out of their apartment in a few days. If only we all knew someone that knew someone! In Paris, you are at the mercy of the landlords who can be rude and are weary of renting to foreigners, with reason. If we think in terms of the economic fundamental of supply and demand: simply, there’s too much demand and not enough supply in this town. In order to rent an apartment, you usually need a complete dossier consisting of:

·      A copy of your identification (for me that means my passport and visa)

·      A copy of your contract from your employer, indicating the duration of your contract and how much you will be compensated (ideally 3x the amount of rent)

·      Your last three paystubs

·      If you don’t have these or don’t make enough money, the last three paystubs of a (preferably French) guarantor

·      Your last tax form and/or the tax form of your guarantor (which they’ll never get from me—too much sensitive info on there)

·      Your last three “receipts” from paying your rent at your previous/current residence

          Surely, if you have all of these, there’s no way they can turn you down right? Wrong. Some hardcore landlords will ask to see all of this information BEFORE you are even allowed to see the apartment. That is, if you can even get a response from a landlord as many of them will never respond to your request for information online and DON’T EVEN THINK about calling them and leaving a message from a number that isn’t a French number because you’ll never hear from them, ever. Others will collect this information from you during your visit, and after you leave will sort through the dossiers of the huge amount of people that have seen the apartment to find their perfect locataire (tenant). If you happen to be someone like me, a young adult with no connections in this town (at the time), a small salary, no previous renting experience (besides from campus living at my university) and no knowledge of French real estate terminology, how do you even begin to navigate this market? I’ve tried my best and I’m learning as I go, but it’s been rough.

          This happens to be one of the many realities I’m adjusting to as a result of living in another country. Things could be much worse, as I am reminded every time I walk past a homeless family on the street with their signs that say something along the lines of “Syrian refugees, please help”. Trust me, I am more than aware that living in the U.S. has spoiled me because I’m so used to everything being incredibly large, from our homes to our food portions. So please don’t assume that I went into this ignorantly thinking I’d be able to live like a king on a small budget because that’s what some people are able to do in the U.S. That’s absolutely wrong. Now that I’m a little bit more familiar with the market, I know what my money is worth and what I should and shouldn’t accept. Furthermore, since I am privileged enough to be somewhat picky about where I live (a luxury that most people don’t have), I feel obligated to not allow these landlords to get over on me. They can try that with someone else, okay?

Tamar knows best.

          Thankfully, a while ago I was able to secure temporary housing until November 1st in a decent sized and well-located apartment. Also, some of the amazing and kind people I’ve met here are helping me with my search. Most of the work I have to do on my own, but I am not completely alone. Let me say that it is completely and utterly exhausting trying to find housing on top of working and dealing with the French bureaucracy to make sure I don’t get kicked out of the country. Recently, I found some good housing prospects and I am optimistic that something will work out soon! You have to put positive energy into the universe and good things are sure to happen.

Nevertheless, the search continues…