Far far away

It’s quite funny to hear about people and distance.


I’ve left my parents, home, boyfriend (and first love) and island when I was 17. I technically arrived at 18 in Paris. I’ve lived 10 years there and now, I’m in Melbourne, Australia.


I miss a lot my friends. Sure. A LOT! I miss my island, the sea, the food, mountains and falls.


It’s quite funny to notice the behaviour of some French people abroad as well. Usually, in France (in the main country), coming from Reunion island makes a big difference. You’re coming from the other side of the world and you’ve got a french nationality but some people could doubt of Reunionese people having cars or TV.


In Australia, you become a true blood french. Sometimes, as in the main country, some french people think it’s quite clever to talk to me with an accent from the French Antillas. Except that it’s not the same part of the world and the same cultur.


Try to talk to a French coming from the South of France about the Maroilles (delicious and stinking cheese coming from the North of France) or mussels and fries (typical meal from the North of France), you won’t be disappointed!


From these 10 years out of my home, I know so much about birthdays, Christmas, having a distance love, being sick alone, etc.


One day, in Paris, a classmate came to me, crying. ‘It’s so hard, I’ve not seen my family from one week!’ And her family was living in the suburbs of Paris. I couldn’t be nasty underlining the fact that I had to take a plane to see my family, 10 000 kilometers away.


But in a way, it was easier for me because I was not so close to my parents. Now, in Australia, I’m living with relatives and for me, they mean home.


And if I’m going back to France or somewhere else, I think I’ll really miss home.

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