Wednesday, 9 September 2015

V.P.V

For the translation in English, click here

Un des problèmes lorsque l’on déménage souvent, c’est le déménagement en soi. L’idée de devoir refaire une valise et changer d’horizon est tout simplement impensable!

Si on catégorisait les voyageurs, on obtiendrait environ trois categories:
  • ·      Les plus impressionnants sont ceux qui paient; ils sont intelligents, disciplinés et ont plus de moyens – ceux-ci paient d’autres personnes à emballer et transporter leurs affaires du point A au point B.
  • ·      Une autre espèce de voyageurs, c’est celui qui voyage par containers. Encore une fois, intelligents et organisés, ils utilisent l’argent fourni par leur prochaine école/entreprise et déplacent leurs possessions par air/mer, qui leur seront rendues une fois sur place.
  • ·      La famille nomade que nous sommes devenus, elle, Voyage Par Valises (la VPV). Victime d’une injustice onéreuse lors de notre premier déménagement au pays d’Atatürk, quand les douanes avaient détenu nos containers pendant plusieurs semaines et que nous les avions récupérés en payant des frais faramineux, nous avons décidé de voyager par valises!


Cela explique donc le fait que ce couple fou et leur deux jeunes enfants, sont arrivés derrière neuf valises il y a un peu plus de trois semaines àTunis.


La question étant: est-ce que ce que l’on possède nous définit vraiment?
D’une certaine façon, nos possessions reflètent un peu de notre personnalité. La façon dont on organise ses meubles, on les remplit de “choses”, avec une valeur sentimentale, une forme de trophée, ou juste dans le but de décorer. Et bien sur, il y a notre société.

Aujourd’hui, nous sommes encouragés dans les rues, sur les routes, sur internet, les réseaux sociaux et j’en passe et des meilleurs, à acheter/consommer.
Il y a un nombre infini de messages à la fois narcissiques et subliminaux pour nous convaincre que nous avons besoin de plus, que cette nouvelle chose va nous rendre plus beau, meilleur, plus complet, plus fort… Non seulement parce qu’on en a besoin, mais aussi parce qu’on le mérite, on le vaut bien!


Je me rappelle toujours de cette présentation sur TEDtalk.com, où le présentateur partage un test qu’il a fait à des personnes banales. En leur proposant un jeu de monopoly, il avait volontairement avantagé certains joueurs, sélectionnés au hazard et qui ignoraient avoir été avantagés. Cependant, après une demie-heure, à force de gagner, les joueurs qui avaient bénéficié de cet avantage et qui étaient en train de gagner, avaient changé d’attitude. Ils devenaient plus dominants, leurs commentaires face à leur adversaire (perdant) devenaient impolis et rabaissants. Leur corps et attitude avaient changé, ils se sentaient puissants, riches et supérieurs.


Evidemment, il s’agit d’un cliché, and heureusement, il y a plusieurs personnes aisées qui montrent une grande générosité et de l’empathie envers les autres.

Il y a quelques années de cela, j’aurais volontairement collectionné des milliers de vêtements, ou autres “choses”, ainsi que des souvenirs de toutes sortes. Mais depuis notre vie errante et à l’aube de notre depart du Caire, nous réalisions que ce style de vie nous a changé pour le mieux.

Un des points positifs de cette region, en passant par la Turquie, l’Egypte et maintenant la Tunisie, c’est qu’elle vous changera en bien. Vous y verrez, de vos propres yeux (Et non à travers un écran) des gens qui vivent avec un dixième de ce que vous possédez et qui, malgré cela, arrivent à vivre. Que ce soit dans l’Est de la Turquie ou dans les petits bidonvilles Cairotes ou Tunisiens, les gens vivent sans tout cet attirail.

Ces six dernières années, nous n’avons pas jeté un jouet ou un vêtement, à moins qu’il ne soit complètement irrécupérable. Chaque fois que nos affaires, ou celles de nos enfants, sont devenues inutiles à nos vies, nous les avons données à des gens qui en bénéficieraient.

Il est prouvé que moins on possède, et plus on est capable d’empathie, et après avoir vu une générosité sans limites de la part de gens qui vivent de presque rien, nous avons commencé à arrêter de ne pas nous soucier des autres.
Il est devenu impossible de passer à côté de quelqu’un, allongé sur le sol dans la rue; il est devenu inimaginable de voir quotidiennement un garde travailleur de nuit, pendant l’hiver Egyptien, sans lui apporter un café, des sandwich et ou de la soupe.
Lorsqu’il a fallu fermer nos neuf valises, nous avons expliqué à nos enfants que certains de leurs jouets devaient être donnés à d’autres, qui n’ont pas la même chance qu’eux, et ils l’ont bien compris.

Dans un monde où les gens envoient leurs enfants et leurs femmes sur des bateaux gonflables pour échapper à une guerre qu’ils n’ont pas choisie, c’est nécessaire que l’on aille tous puiser à la source du puit de notre générosité, peu importe sa profondeur, et que vous réalisions à quel point nous avons eu de la chance d’être né dans une partie du monde plus favorisée et que nos “problèmes” ne sont pas vraiment des problèmes.

Même si nous sommes encouragés à ne pas se soucier de notre prochain et que l’on veut nous convaincre que nos vies ne sont pas complètes, ne faudrait-il pas sortir de notre microcosme et faire preuve d’empathie et d’humanité envers ceux qui n’ont vraiment rien.
Beaucoup d’entre nous le font déjà, parce qu’en partageant et faisant un don, on se rappelle de la chance que nous, nos familles et enfants, avons au quotidien.



Tuesday, 8 September 2015

T.W.S

Pour la traduction en français, cliquez ici

One downfall of moving on a regular basis is the actual movement itself. 
The mere thought of having to pack yet another time seems unbearable.

If you put things in perspective, there are several species of packers.

  • The fanciest one is the paying packer; they are the smart, disciplined and richer people who pay others to pack their belongings and deal with the transportation from A to B.
  • The next type is a crate packer; another smart, organized and well-travelled expat, who will use the moving allowance fully and perhaps add a substantial amount, and will have the shipment delivered once after the arrival at destination.
  • The nomad family that we are, is sadly from the third category: the TWS (Travelling With Suitcases). Scarred deeply after a shipment being detained in customs by evil airport services in the old Ottoman land, and having had to retrieve the shipment for a price much higher than it’s actual value, this family has decided to travel by suitcases. An incredible challenge indeed!
This explains how a seemingly mad couple and their two young children arrived with 9 suitcases, a little over 3 weeks ago, in Tunis.



Now, does what you own make you the person you are?
In a way, it reflects on your personality; the way you arrange your furniture, you fill them with a certain amount of “things”, which has a sentimental value to you, a trophy of some sort, or perhaps just for the sake of improving your décor. And then of course, there is society.

Nowadays, we are encouraged daily, on the roads, the streets, TV, the internet, social networks and more, to buy/consume. There are countless subliminal and narcissist messages to convince you that you need more, that this new “thing” will make you prettier, better, fuller, stronger… And not only because you need it, but also because you deserve it, you are entitled to it.


I always recall the Ted talk that refers to a rigged Monopoly game, and how regular players, who were benefiting from a strong advantage, started to change. Suddenly, their body language was dominating, their vocabulary became undermining towards the “losing” player and they kept on praising themselves for doing so well as they felt entitled to it.


Of course, this is a cliché, and hamdullilah, there are many people who are showing great generosity and empathy with their wealth.

A few years ago, I could have happily collected hundreds of items of clothing, little “things”, and any form of memories I could. As we left the land of the pyramids, which I greatly miss daily, we had to make a decision and it is when having seen this part of the world helped us.

One attribute of this geographic area, from Turkey, to Egypt and now Tunis, is that it will make you a better person. You will see, with your own eyes, (not behind your comfy TV screen) people who are living with one tenth of what you have and still manage to smile and get by. Whether it is in the East of Turkey, in the small village or garbage city in Cairo, people are getting by.


For the past six years, we have not thrown away one toy or piece of garment, unless it was completely impossible to repair it. Every time our children’s or our own clothes/toys/belonging became unnecessary to our lives, we have given it to people who needed it more than we did.
It is proven that the less you have, the most empathic you will be to others, and witnessing blind generosity from people who lived on the bare minimum, we started to stop not caring! 
It became impossible to walk by someone who is lying on the ground and walk past him; it became impossible to see a guard, spending his entire nights outside as a job, and not bring him coffee, sandwiches and/or soups when we could do it.
When packing our nine suitcases, we told our children that they had to donate their toys to children who needed them more than they did, and they understood it.

In a world, where people are sending off their children and women on inflatable boats to escape a war that started despite them, it is crucial we all tap into the well of generosity that we have within us, however filled it is, and realize that we were lucky to be born in a place where “problems” really aren’t problems.
Even though we are encouraged to only look at ourselves and feel as though our lives were incomplete, it is crucial that we step out of our first world vision, and embrace with as much empathy and humanity as we can those whose world has collapsed and need help.
Many of us do it, because sharing or donating really is caring, and because we must never forget how fortunate we are.








Saturday, 15 August 2015

Aslama fee Tunis

It has become a ritual for us, to arrive in a place undergoing the state of emergency measures. Still aware of the risks, but certainly more serene thanks to our Egyptian experience, it felt more worrying in terms of expectations. You may fool yourself in believing that coming from Egypt, it cannot get much worse, because our hearts also beat to a Beladi tune and it was playing loud and clear as the plane hit the ground in Tunis.
From the plane, the dark blue landscape is suddenly cut by a beige wriggly line, covered in colourful circles and the shapes of people, and behind it, a mixture of white and turquoise shapes emerging, with touches and patches of green in the distance.
A different palette from the Egyptian landscape for sure, reminding us a little of the old Constantinople.

Yet, once you enter the airport, it almost felt like home, Cairo, as the understanding of queuing and stamping a passport seems a tiresome and painstaking task for each officer to undertake swiftly.

Tunis is the destination but our new workplace and their welcome is paramount to how you will feel during the first minutes, as you touch the Tunisian soil.
One hour after, and hidden behind our life packed into 9 suitcases, we were welcomed and taken care of in such a human way, every need of ours anticipated, as people, teachers, and parents.


One unsettling feeling is the language. For the past decade, a new destination has also meant the learning of a new language, and sometimes, without even the ability to read the alphabet. In Tunis, due to the Francophone aspect, French is widely spoken by most people, which is a strange feeling to experience, outside of France.


Despite not being able to speak fluent Egyptian Arabic, it is obvious that the Tunisian Arabic is very different, in accent, pronunciation and vocabulary. I am told that Tunisians understand the Egyptian Arabic but it doesn’t work the other way around. It is a matter of preference, but to my French ears, meshi or 5alas sound sweeter than behi or oufe…



In terms of landscapes, as you stroll around in the humid heat, amongst the white houses with turquoise or yellow doors, the beautiful tiles that covers their ceilings or benches, there are very few red brick houses, with the welded wires sticking out, that remind me fondly of Cairo (as well as the police presence on the streets). 
One of the best aspects is the fact that the streets are significantly cleaner in most areas, despite but some trash on the ground in certain areas, as it was in Turkey.

And now, to the most important, the people.

A wonderful trait of North Africa are the smiles, and the more, the better. People easily smile, especially if you talk to them in a language they master. You feel welcomed, as a person but also as a parent, since family values are strongly respected, whether you are a local or not.

Obviously, in this old Roman land, besides the pillars represented by the people, the beauty of the landscape and the language aspect, we could paint an entire acropolis since women appear more Western in their dressing code, both in town and on the beach. Also the variety of daily fresh markets, filled with lovely smells and colours, and much more.
However, the artist in me is not willing to draw such an ambitious canvas yet. Leaving a place and its people entails a mourning period that is still at play.

I shall conclude by telling our friends and family that we have enough space to welcome you here, and we, the 28 degree water, as well as the beach (ten minutes from our place) are not going anywhere!