After a short silence (not because there are not things going on, cause there are.. )
Here there is something I read today I can't agree more.
It’s no easy thing to quantify something like quality of life. How do you attach a figure or a ranking to the experience of spending time in a place?
You can’t.
The number of hospital beds and physicians per capita…the number of airports, the length of railway track, and the volume of cell phones, measured against the population…the gross domestic product and the average per-capita income…how much do these things have to do with “quality of life”?
All the scores and more online…Accompanying this article are the final scores for all 192 countries considered in our survey. To see the complete scores for every country in every category, go to:
http://www.qualityoflife2008.com/. If your appendix bursts, sure, you hope the local hospital has a spare bed for you…and if you’re planning a weekend getaway, you appreciate a nearby airport. But are those things real measures of your life experience?
Indeed, should you choose your place of residence based on tax rates, the cost of living, or the strength of the local economy?
After 22 years participating in the production of International Living’s annual Quality of Life survey, which considers all these bits of data, along with hundreds of others, I’d say no.
You’ll notice as you review this year’s Index that the places International Living normally recommends you think about living or retiring fall nowhere near the top in the final rankings. Ecuador’s economy is a basket-case and has been for as long as anyone can remember. Nicaragua’s tax rates aren’t particularly appealing for the foreign resident. Uruguay has zero miles of usable railway track. And, in the interior of Argentina, you could travel a long way in search of a hospital bed.
On the other hand, Switzerland, for example, boasts 40 miles of railway track per 10,000 people over which the trains run quick and on time. Its GDP per capita is $34,000. And its female citizens live to the ripe age of 83 years.
Should you contact your local Swiss Embassy to see if you might qualify for residency? I don’t know, but realize, before you do, that these details, certainly when considered individually and out of context, are nearly meaningless.
The irony of this year’s Index for me is that France wins. According to IL’s 2008 Quality of Life Index, France is the best place in the world to live. I’d agree…but not for the reasons the survey suggests.
I appreciate that France offers, by all measures, the world’s best medical care. I appreciate its fast trains and its Eurostar service across the Channel. I appreciate Paris’ too-many-to-count museums, cafés, galleries, antiques shops, restaurants, boutiques, jazz clubs, theaters, bakeries, and cheese shops, as well as her multitude of parks and gardens, some growing and tended for hundreds of years. I appreciate the easy and cheap air access its three capital city airports provide to the rest of Europe…and the world beyond. I appreciate the country’s four seasons, none too severe.
On the other hand, I defy you to try to start or operate a business in this country, which has sent some of the most persistent businessmen I know running, arms flailing, for cover. Good luck opening a bank account without a letter of reference. Indeed, bonne chance getting local cell phone service (the secret is to bring a local utility bill, preferably an electric bill). To apply for a visa or even to rent an apartment (legally), you’ll have to prepare an inch-thick dossier, notarized, sealed, stamped, witnessed…
All those things are inconvenient and frustrating. But, just as a healthy gross domestic product and a lot of cell phones in circulation don’t necessarily translate to a good life, neither do an abundance of administrative red tape and restrictive systems for doing business necessarily mean a bad one.
What, then, does make for a good quality of life? You’ll have to answer the question for yourself, and, when you do, here’s what I suggest: Place a premium on the things that can’t be plugged into a spreadsheet. A country (or a city or a region) may make great sense on paper but appeal to you not at all when you visit. And vice versa.
Why do I enjoy spending time in France? I have two reasons. The first, stated simply, may seem silly, though, if you’ve a romantic soul, you may understand.
I like France, especially Paris, because it’s beautiful. The more time I spend here, the more I’m convinced. No city anywhere is as pretty as Paris. At all times of year, any time of day, in any weather, central Paris is lovely. Walk along its river, wander the twisting cobblestoned rues of its Latin Quarter, while away an afternoon watching the city pass you by from a café perch…and you’ll see what I mean.
For me, knowing that, at any moment, I can step out my front door and be part of this…that makes for a good quality of life. My daily commute for three years was a half-hour walk across the Seine and through the Tuileries gardens of the Louvre. When I walk my little boy the 20 minutes to school in the morning, we wave to the shop-keepers along the way and smile at their ever-changing window displays. Making our way home in the evening, we stop for a baguette at the corner bakery and a bottle of wine at the shop down the block.
Paris is a museum city, and its displays, in all directions, are world-class.
The other reason I like spending time in this city is because the longer you’re here, the less certain you are that you know the place. Paris is a tease. Like a lover savvy enough never to reveal too much too quickly, Paris shows you a little leg, then covers up coquettishly, leaving you smiling and anticipating the next encounter. You may think you know Paris, but I promise you, there’s more to discover.
And, for me, this…this potential for endless discovery…perhaps more than anything else, makes for good living.
There were not 15 short stories as in the Dubliners of Joyce, but 9. One for each of the interns that booked a flight to get to Dublin. And like the book, this trip deserves a film.
