Ce dernier article en anglais parce que j’ai vécu cette année à l’étranger dans cette langue.
This last article has been written in English as it has been my language during these 11 months away from France. This year has been all about the people I’ve met and what they have told me, among which:
“The French are particularly elitist when it comes to culture”
Pier Frassineli (Italian) – Monash, RSA
Identity
This sentence was told by one of my lecturer after I opposed him on his qualification of the movie District 9 as piece of art. What interests me in this sentence is the concept of Frenchness. Did I react like this because of my nationality and my culture? How much of a caricature am I? Those who know me well are aware of my distress at being 100% French. How sad in today’s globalised world. I even am 100% south western French, but this I am proud of. Anyway, there is no way to deny my origins. Actually, when I first got to South Africa, I used to present myself as French, and would claim it everywhere, at anytime. Nothing could make my night like meeting French speaking people at the bar and talking about the beauty of my language and culture. Luckily, I quickly grew out of it. I had not gone there to promote nor miss France. Of course you might want to use people’s prejudice at your advantage (among which easy meetings and free drinks), but after a month or two you barrely smile at ‘Oooooh Paris! It’s my favourite place in the world, the city of love…’or ‘Of course, your accent… so very sexy!’. There is a danger when you go abroad, striking in Africa. People might be interested in you for what you represent, white French chick partying, more than for who you are. I have always known I am French and living abroad for such a long period of time helped me define who I am besides, or rather beyond this.
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“Black Label, the whisky right ?”
‘The Soldier’ (Belgium) – Durban, RSA
Drinks
South African people tried to convince me that their vine is one of the best in the world. They failed. However, I have been seduced by African beers. Cheap and tasty, the local/national beer rarely disappoint. 2M from Mozambique, Tafel from Namibia, Zambezi in Zim, the Rwandan Primus, the black and yellow Tusker from Kenya, Sibebe in the kingdom of Swazi and even the 8% Stella in Egypt, they all took part in my experience of the culture and the good memories I made while travelling. The beer of my year abroad is the Black Label. Which has nothing to do with the whisky, thanks God. Although Tom broke my heart when he told me that the brand Carling is indeed Canadian, it remains 100% brewed in South Africa, thus South African. I’ve brought home a couple of cans I know I am going to miss the taste of ‘cold, delicious Black Label’ – and also its price, down to R12 (1€) for a 750mL bottle in Zandspruit, township just up the road to Monash, with quite a reputation but lovely locals. Do NOT buy chicken livers if you ever go there though.
My favourite trip: Namibia with Gaelle
“I’ve had lunch: I’ve eaten peanuts”
Andrew (US) – Kigali, Rwanda
Food
The chicken liver advice and Andrew’s spontaneous sentence bring me to the heart of the unavoidable food topic. I found out this year that French people are a bit uptight about eating habits. When it comes to me, it’s even more of an understatement. I had to go through what I thought impossible: people being invited to eat at random hours, eating random things, just coming for dessert or leaving straight after the meal, eating on couches and not speaking a word until they are done. What about specific hours? Course order (savory starters, main meal and sweet dessert)? What about sitting for hours and staying by the end of the 5 courses to keep on talking about how we could make the world a better place? Food and eating have a social and cultural dimension in France that I have not found anywhere else. Even going to the restaurant is a one course and often quick event. My biggest trauma probably is this time I tried to organize a farewell dinner for my French classmate Gaelle. Everyone arrived at 7pm having already eaten. No worry though, they ate the ‘foie gras’ as a dessert and the cakes as an evening snack. Had I not loved these people, I would have taken them for the most uncivilised creatures on earth.
“ ‘Are you sweet for dinner ?’ ‘Am I what… ?’ ”
Ric (Aussie) & Claire (US) – Akagera National Park, Rwanda
Language
Yep! English speaking people sometimes don’t understand each other. I’ve had memorable laughs listening to them bantering on what ‘proper’ English is. Surrounded by native English speakers (mostly Australians) during this year abroad, I did struggle more than expected to understand and take part in conversations the first few weeks. Little by little I got to know and appreciate the efficiency and false simplicity of English, so very different from French. It makes you think in a whole different way, especially through the writing of papers. Dabbled a bit with sarcasm, but I still have a long way to go to be as confident in the exact meaning of my words as I am in French. My very obvious accent is still giving me a complexion for in French, having an accent equals not properly mastering the language. While working on improving it again and again, I will go over it, eventually.Hopefully. PS: The ‘African English’ expressions are just the best ‘Me, I really like meat.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Eish…’ and so many more!
My favourite day: rugby tournament in Rwanda
“I am pretty sure God did not design us to study.What if going to university was a sin ?”
Unknown Zim girl – Monash Library, RSA
Religion
Disregarding the stupidity of such a statement – it was exam time in her defense, I’ve learnt a lot when it comes to religion and my acceptance of it. I remember the prayer at the end of the first training in Rwanda and at the meeting with the highschool teachers with Monash volunteering programme. Not being religious at all, I had never prayed before in my life and was convinced I would always respect people’s faith but would explain my position and refuse to join. However, in these two situations, I closed my eyes and breathed steadily trying to understand every word that was being said (pretty hard in kinya-rwanda) until the ‘Amen’. I actually enjoyed these moments as the opportunity to share an experience with people so very different from me. I’ve become more discreet about my non-religiousness, though never at the cost of a lie. When asked, I explain my (non) beliefs as best as I can, underlining the fact that it is a very common position in France. More often, people believe me to have a faith or another and I do not correct them. Religion really is part of culture in Africa. Some of my friends put Facebook status and profile pictures with quotes from the Bible or other religious text and most of them go to Church every week. A service is even held on campus in a lecture theatre. Unbelievable for my very ‘laïc’ self and country, but then again this is no France.
“ I got total! ”
8 years old Zulu girl – Zandspruit, RSA
People
During both semesters at Monash, I got involved in the volunteering programme tutoring kids from the local township, Zandspruit. Although it was only a couple of hours a week, I learned a lot from it. It’s been beautiful to meet children so eager to learn when my own 8 years old young sister is considering school as a hardship. On the other hand, alone to help more than 10 kids with their homework for less than 90minutes when most of them can’t even read by grade 4, it’s been hard to accept that I was absolutely not making a difference. However, I will remember this girl who came to me one day and told me with the biggest smile: “I got total from the exercise we did together yesterday”. I had not recognised her face and did not even remember helping her. It took me a bit to understand and congratulate her. Sharing her happiness, I felt selfishly happy and proud to have been useful for once.The second after I felt ashamed for being proud when I have so little faith in the future and opportunities awaiting for her. Considering how much I got without deserving it, giving a bit of my time was nothing admirable, I had not achieved anything. She did. Not thanks to me, but rather despite the unjust global social system. Needless to say I don’t support my sister’s complains about going to school anymore.
My favourite bunch of people: the exchange from first semester
“Adios Cabroné ! ”
Tom (Spanishaussie) – Cairo, Egypt
Goodbyes
Forgive his Spanish: until I told him what it meant, he thought that ‘cabron’ was indeed a very nice word. Not that he said it less afterwards. At the age of 9, I moved from Périgueux to Pau, 200km south. I was separated from my primary school friends and did not manage to keep in touch with most of them, despite enthusiastic letters and occasional homecomings. Since then, I hate leaving a place for good and I dread goodbyes. I got my share this year. There are the people you only share a few hours, a couple of days or a trip with. It’s both hard and weird to make the most of such meetings but sometimes them coming in my life very briefly is what makes if beautiful. I remember driving my mother back to the airport in February, and walking in OR Tambo, feeling very lonely at the thought that once again, someone was going back home while I was left alone in SA. At this precise moment, three people walking next to me suddenly began singing in a gospel fashion. It was random, yet went straight to my heart. Reminded me of the infinite possibilities of life and the beauty of people. However, the hardest part of my year abroad has been to say goodbye to the amazing people that had been sharing my daily life. They might never be in it ever again, and even worse I might never see them again. I’m still working on accepting it. Will probably never do, firm believer it’s up to me to make it happen again.
“Bon, ben à plus” ; “Well, see you later”
Susant (Aussie) – Monash, RSA ; Matt (US) – Cape Town, RSA
Future
I’ve been back for a bit less than a month. It is still a bit early to look back on this almost-one-year away from home but I can already say that I have no regret. I feel like I really made the most of the opportunities that were given to me: people, trips, experiences… It has not always been easy but I think it made me a better person, more aware of who I am and what I want.
When I left France I wrote in this blog’s first article that no matter what was going to happen to me, I will have a lot to come back to. Now, I also have to lot to go to. Places I want to visit, people I want to see again. This year abroad showed me that I am able to find happiness far from everything and everyone I knew. France, my family, childhood, highschool & uni friends are more amazing than ever (if possible!). But I know there is a lot left out there, I might be checking out very very soon…
This blog has really been messy, but it was its purpose: it’s been somewhere I could write on to share whatever I felt like, whenever I needed to. Thank you all for reading me!
Et oui, au final ce blog ne ressemble pas à grand chose, mais c’était finalement l’idée: un support sur lequel s’exprimer lorsque j’en ressentirai l’envie et/ou le besoin, afin de partager un peu de mon expérience. Je ne m’en excuserai donc pas, et finirai juste par un grand merci à vous tous!