By Gaëlle from France Is there any stranger feeling than being at home on the other side of Europe?
The passing of time, the only unbuyable value. Strange feeling to remember the beginning and understand that it is now the end. How far away are the first feelings, the cultural shocks, the many questions we ask ourselves about whether we made the right choice or not.
The house, the home, that place where you grow up, that place where you feel safe? That place where you are so comfortable? What a feeling and sensation to understand that a home depends only on the people around you. What about seeing that filters and barriers fall away when you have to leave. What room is there for the shyness and embarrassment of the beginning? The fears were so quickly dispelled.
Those few words that sound so good in the language of Molière sound so wrong in English.
The experiences, the unfulfilled wishes, the ideas of the beginning are so far from reality.
What other wishes and words can be used in the face of lived reality?
A simple Thank You is not enough. You have each opened your hearts.
Thank you for everything. Language seems so poor in the face of what we feel, I envy the poets via their works and the ease with which they play with language.
Impossible to summarize these six months, the love we feel for all of you, although ephemeral, these months have had an impact on my life. Romania, a country that seems so far away and so close. Faces, worn by tears of joy and sadness, memories, landscapes, unexpected e xperiences, trains, what can I say?
As said before, the language is too poor to translate what we feel.
A simple thank you is not enough but you will understand my thought.
I carry you all in my heart, torn between melancholy and joy.
All the words that come to me are derisory but I tell you anyway I love you.