Strangers I Met in Paris

It was not the pain that scared me, but imagining the train moving while half of my body was hanging outside the train and dragging me along the dark tunnel.  

However, before my imagination got wilder, two big, strong men, with their ultimate efforts, pushed the door open. They successfully opened the doors for a very short time, and I could unstuck myself.

I was shocked and relieved at the same time. It took a few seconds to process what had happened. After I came to my senses, they already gathered together by the pole a bit distant from me.

I didn't have a chance to thank you, but I was grateful for their kindness. They are strangers who don't hesitate to give a helping hand when needed.

Again, it sends a warm feeling to my heart.

Unfortunately, the most common stereotype of Parisians is they are rude. I know it's unfair to paint over 2 million Parisians with the same brush.

Are they really that rude? I don't know since I had almost zero interaction with them in my short visit.

Like any Westerner counterparts, in general, they are closed and unfriendly compared to Asians. They highly value their spaces and privacies. But it doesn't mean they don't bother to give helping hands when the time is needed.

Some of you may think there is nothing special in my story. Honestly, I don't even remember those strangers' faces, but I will remember their small acts of kindness.