I would like to tell you my mother's uncle's story. He grew up in Portugal and his childhood was very hard. From a young age he used to wake up in the morning to milk the cows in a field. He left home with only a piece of bread as a meal. He had to leave to work because he was the oldest of the family. He did not have the choice at that time. It was to help his parents and work to earn money and help feed the family. Later, it was too hard to continue his life in his village in Portugal. He did not have any opportunities for the future.
A few years later he found a job earning a minimum wage. But what did he want to do with this money? He told me that he was already thinking of his new life, this life which he dreamed of. This perfect life for him was in the sun, in Brazil. For him there would not be the barrier of language in Brazil, because Brazil's national language is Portuguese. When he became an adult, he took this decision that he had waited for so long, the decision to leave Portugal. But the hardest thing was to announce the news to his parents…..especially his father. And indeed, when he announced what he planned to do, his father took it very badly. He never spoke to his son any more.
So he left on a long boat journey to cross the Atlantic to Brazil. But the conditions were dreadful and that's why he was reluctant to speak about this time in his life. When he arrived in Brazil life was not as simple as he had imagined. It was violent and very hard. It took him about a week to collect the building materials he needed to build a shelter. In the meantime he travelled to the city to look for work. When he came back to the place where he had stored his building material it had all been stolen and nothing was left.
Later his brother came to Brazil. This pleased him greatly and he decided to pay him a visit. When he arrived at the entrance of the district, two men were guarding it armed with rifles. He did not know what was going to happen and was terrified. These men warned that the next time he came he’d have to ask for their permission if he did'nt want the two men to kill him. Later he found a job in a rich Brazilian family. But for him this job was very hard and they didn’t show him any respect! That’s why it was impossible for him to work in this family; he was so badly treated and badly paid... But thanks to this job he found a wife. He later had two daughters but tragically his wife left and he never saw his two daughters any more. But the story ends well because one day at his brother’s funeral, in Brazil he saw his daughters and after that they remained in contact.
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Dieses Projekt wurde mit Unterstützung der Europäischen Kommission finanziert. Die Verantwortung für den Inhalt dieser Veröffentlichung trägt allein der Verfasser; die Kommission haftet nicht für die weitere Verwendung der darin enthaltenen Angaben.
Montag, 3. Februar 2014
Odette's Story by Charles VIVES
During the Christmas holidays, I went to question my grandmother about an event which marked her life. Here is her story…
Me: Grandma, could you tell me a story that left a mark on you when you were young?
Odette: Oh yes well, if you want, I am going to tell you a short story which happened during the Second World War. It was in 1942, I was 6 years old. You know it was when France was under the German occupation and at that time, I already lived in La Ravoire but very far from my school. Every day before going to school, I woke up at 5 am to help my parents in the farm to milk cows because they were farmers. I was the only girl of my family, 2 of my brothers were boarders in Grenoble and the third, the oldest, had to fight in the War. So, every morning, after helping my parents, I had to go to school on foot at the same time passing before the Church to visit the priest. From there, I joined my school friends to pray. I had already walked for about 30 minutes... I shouldn’t especially be late, otherwise, he rapped us over the knuckles with a wooden ruler. After the prayer, the priest took us all to school.
When my day in school was ended, I went back home alone and from my first year of primary school. I still had 30 minutes on foot to go home. But one day I saw on the threshold of my house my father with 2 tall men wearing uniform. I ran up to my father because I was afraid, I wondered who these men were. They spoke French with difficulty. I understood at once that they were German soldiers. Then, all of a sudden, one of the 2 soldiers shouted at my father in a very authoritarian tone. In fact he wanted his bicycle. Well, my father refused because it was his only means of transport, my parents were too poor to buy a car. Two Germans obviously stronger than my father didn’t have to continue to have a dialogue a very long time. They started kicking and punching my father. I had great difficulty to try to prevent them from killing him but they pushed me rather violently in spite of my young age. Finally, my dad had to give in by agreeing to give them his bike. He still ended up lying on the ground because of the pain and Germans then left with his bike. Since that day, I’m afraid of Germans and I can’t see them in the same way...
Me: Thank you very much granny !
Me: Grandma, could you tell me a story that left a mark on you when you were young?
Odette: Oh yes well, if you want, I am going to tell you a short story which happened during the Second World War. It was in 1942, I was 6 years old. You know it was when France was under the German occupation and at that time, I already lived in La Ravoire but very far from my school. Every day before going to school, I woke up at 5 am to help my parents in the farm to milk cows because they were farmers. I was the only girl of my family, 2 of my brothers were boarders in Grenoble and the third, the oldest, had to fight in the War. So, every morning, after helping my parents, I had to go to school on foot at the same time passing before the Church to visit the priest. From there, I joined my school friends to pray. I had already walked for about 30 minutes... I shouldn’t especially be late, otherwise, he rapped us over the knuckles with a wooden ruler. After the prayer, the priest took us all to school.
When my day in school was ended, I went back home alone and from my first year of primary school. I still had 30 minutes on foot to go home. But one day I saw on the threshold of my house my father with 2 tall men wearing uniform. I ran up to my father because I was afraid, I wondered who these men were. They spoke French with difficulty. I understood at once that they were German soldiers. Then, all of a sudden, one of the 2 soldiers shouted at my father in a very authoritarian tone. In fact he wanted his bicycle. Well, my father refused because it was his only means of transport, my parents were too poor to buy a car. Two Germans obviously stronger than my father didn’t have to continue to have a dialogue a very long time. They started kicking and punching my father. I had great difficulty to try to prevent them from killing him but they pushed me rather violently in spite of my young age. Finally, my dad had to give in by agreeing to give them his bike. He still ended up lying on the ground because of the pain and Germans then left with his bike. Since that day, I’m afraid of Germans and I can’t see them in the same way...
Me: Thank you very much granny !
A Resistance Fighter's Life by Sébastien REY
resurface !!
Dear readers, today, we will go back in time with the history of a person who lived through the war which made a remarkable impression on his life. At this time, our character was about 16 years old. He lived with his family in a farm in the Maurienne Valley near the Italian border. His family was composed of two brothers, his mother. His father died when he was 6 years old.As the place where he lived was located in mountains, in a little village, it was common to see members of the resistance. In fact the story takes place during the Second World War. The mother of our character was the first to help them. The family wasn't rich, but they gave foodstuffs to the resistance fighters. One day, while our character whose name was Camille, had gone looking for milk in a field where cows were grazing, the German police arrived at the farm because they thought the family had relations with resistance. After a moment, Camille tried to escape but the Germans rushed on him and arrested him. By way of retaliation, they brought him to prison in St Jean de Maurienne to interrogate him. When they arrived, they put him in a cell and they put a gun to his head to put pressure on him.
A man arrived and yelled : « Where are the resistance fighters ? » Our character knew all the hiding spots where they could be, but one day, the chief of the network of the Maurienne had told him to never denounce the group. Although he was afraid of the gun pointed at him, he never said anything, and after three days of detention, the German forces released him. But it was not finished for him. At this time, the phone didn't exist and he had to to return home on foot. He was tired but he had to return as quickly as possible to be able to reassure his family. This moment of the life of this man is very important because at this young age, it's very complicated to live such a situation. The issue was happy, but this situation was a sort of turning point in this man's life. He emerged stronger than before and since this moment, he lived in good conditions.
This story is here to show how lucky we are to live in a peaceful world and to remember that we must not forget our history and always have a thougth for the men who suffered for our sake.
Thanks for reading my story. Tomorrow we'll look at the life of women during the war, with the testimony of a woman who lived through the war.
A Country Girl Moves to Toulouse by Vincent ROJON
I’m going to speak about a woman who’s sixty years old and who comes from a little village in the center of France.
This person was very shy during her childhood and she was used to living in the country. But one day, she had to go to study in Toulouse. Can you understand how lost she was at the beginning? The place where she was living was populated by less than a hundred inhabitants and in a week, she was dropped in one of the biggest cities of the country, inhabited byhundreds of thousands of inhabitants. Her first impression was that she wouldn’t be able to find her way in such a city. But she was wrong and in a few days, she knew Toulouse approximately. Indeed, she learned where all the places which were important for a student were: the campus, where she could find a library and the restaurant, and the city center, where she could find lots of shops. Her first week was a bit difficult, because she went back to school before most of the students. She was studying Spanish, and all her friends who were studying English, had a week’s more holidays. But, from the day her friends arrived in Toulouse, she loved this city and her studies. This farmer’s daughter enjoyed living in a big city and even if she had a small bedroom in one of the campus buildings, she told me she has very pleasant memories of her studies. She spent three years in Toulouse and she met a Spanish girl who invited her to go to Spain, at the end of her studies to visit. When she came back to France, she did like many people and she went to live in Paris to find a job but that’s another story!
This person was very shy during her childhood and she was used to living in the country. But one day, she had to go to study in Toulouse. Can you understand how lost she was at the beginning? The place where she was living was populated by less than a hundred inhabitants and in a week, she was dropped in one of the biggest cities of the country, inhabited byhundreds of thousands of inhabitants. Her first impression was that she wouldn’t be able to find her way in such a city. But she was wrong and in a few days, she knew Toulouse approximately. Indeed, she learned where all the places which were important for a student were: the campus, where she could find a library and the restaurant, and the city center, where she could find lots of shops. Her first week was a bit difficult, because she went back to school before most of the students. She was studying Spanish, and all her friends who were studying English, had a week’s more holidays. But, from the day her friends arrived in Toulouse, she loved this city and her studies. This farmer’s daughter enjoyed living in a big city and even if she had a small bedroom in one of the campus buildings, she told me she has very pleasant memories of her studies. She spent three years in Toulouse and she met a Spanish girl who invited her to go to Spain, at the end of her studies to visit. When she came back to France, she did like many people and she went to live in Paris to find a job but that’s another story!
Jean-Claude's Story by Valentin MONACHON and Clara MICHELLIER
Jean-Claude Delapierre, a retired man of 70 years old, told us a great turning point in his life, which he qualified as really « decisive » for him, because it has literally changed his professional life, and changed his way of seeing things. He summarizes his life as a series of different objectives, challenges, that were given to him and has sworn to achieve.
Born in 1944, Jean-Claude continued a basic school career, and turned to a literary subjects. He obtained his BAC L in 1962, at the age of 18. He then chose to stop studies, and to get directly into the world of work. Then, he discovered that he was interested in becoming a doctor. That's why he became wholesaler-distributor (=grossiste répartiteur), a work which consists in buying medicines (over 250 000 references of drugs) to pharmaceutical companies ; to manage and store them in establishments spread across the French territory (190 sites), and then, to deliver them and make them available in pharmacies, in the shortest possible time. Doing this job, Mr. Delapierre learned and remembered by heart more than 7000 references of drugs !!
Not feeling completely satisfied by this work, and looking for a more interesting job, offering a better salary, Jean-Claude discovered the work of representative in pharmaceutical products (=visiteur médical), a job which consists in promoting the products of pharmaceutical laboratories, to the professional health community (general practitioners and specialists, hospital officials ,department heads,...). He applied for the position of medical representative in April 1968, at the age of 24 years old.
He then met a recruiter, who clearly explained him that it wouldn't be possible because he hasn't got the required qualifications, because this job requires a BAC +2 diploma (minimum) in science subjects. Furthermore, he told him that this post was already coveted by another person, coming out of a BAC +3 in medicine subjects ; and, to get the job, he must obtain at least, a mark of 18/20 at the entrance exam. Mr. Delapierre supported, somehow, that he wanted this job, and that he was very motivated and will do anything to succeed this exam and get the job. The recruiter then agreed, but on one condition: he had to resign his actual job of wholesaler-distributor. Jean-Claude was married, so he didn't know if it was good to take the risk of losing his job without being sure of getting the job of medical representative. But he still decided to try, and went one month in training course in Paris to learn the basics of medicine to try to catch up, and to work his competitive entrance exam.
Only, he didn't choose the right month to go work in Paris, because he went in May 1968, which means during the great french social crisis, which led to a wave of political, social and cultural contestation movements by almost all the French people. This revolt began with a student movement in the capital, and it then generalized, leading to general strikes that have imperiled the summit of the state. The building where Mr. Delapierre was studying, was located at the heart of the demonstrations, which made him working in very difficults conditions: he could never concentrate or sleep... During this month, Jean-Claude lost 10kgs ! Finally, he took the competition with his competitor who has obtained a 18/20, against a 18.5/20 from Jean-Claude !! He won, so then he became medical representative in June 1968, at the age of 24 years old.
He then fixed a new challenge: to be among the best medical representatives of his team. This mentality allowed him to be promoted to the position of Director of Medical visitors of the Rhône-Alpes region in 1990, at the age of 46 years. He was able to evolve with his own team (that he recruited himself), to make medical trainings, etc... Moreover, Jean-Claude applied different methods of work than other directors. Indeed, he has opted to privilege the « human », which means that he was always attentive to his colleagues, to never have any problems, and to make the company evolve in a good atmosphere ; he left them work alone, he wasn't always behind them, because he wanted them to develop some autonomy, and he didn't want to treat them as « flunkeys ». Thanks to this methods, the Rhône-Alpes region stayed, for almost all the years he was director, the best French region of medical representatives, in terms of results. This earned him the visit from one of the European pharmaceutical managers, who wanted to see by himself how Jean-Claude worked.
What Mr. Delapierre learned from it all, is that educational qualifications don't always mean everything: what matters most is the will, the volition, because, according to him, « When we want: we can ». Indeed, Jean-Claude started with almost nothing and succeeded, and, additional, he succeded more than he hoped because he didn't think that one day he would become a Regional Director...
Jean- Claude Delapierre then concludes by saying:
" When you want to succeed your life, and if you take the trouble: then you can become a successful man."
Born in 1944, Jean-Claude continued a basic school career, and turned to a literary subjects. He obtained his BAC L in 1962, at the age of 18. He then chose to stop studies, and to get directly into the world of work. Then, he discovered that he was interested in becoming a doctor. That's why he became wholesaler-distributor (=grossiste répartiteur), a work which consists in buying medicines (over 250 000 references of drugs) to pharmaceutical companies ; to manage and store them in establishments spread across the French territory (190 sites), and then, to deliver them and make them available in pharmacies, in the shortest possible time. Doing this job, Mr. Delapierre learned and remembered by heart more than 7000 references of drugs !!
Not feeling completely satisfied by this work, and looking for a more interesting job, offering a better salary, Jean-Claude discovered the work of representative in pharmaceutical products (=visiteur médical), a job which consists in promoting the products of pharmaceutical laboratories, to the professional health community (general practitioners and specialists, hospital officials ,department heads,...). He applied for the position of medical representative in April 1968, at the age of 24 years old.
He then met a recruiter, who clearly explained him that it wouldn't be possible because he hasn't got the required qualifications, because this job requires a BAC +2 diploma (minimum) in science subjects. Furthermore, he told him that this post was already coveted by another person, coming out of a BAC +3 in medicine subjects ; and, to get the job, he must obtain at least, a mark of 18/20 at the entrance exam. Mr. Delapierre supported, somehow, that he wanted this job, and that he was very motivated and will do anything to succeed this exam and get the job. The recruiter then agreed, but on one condition: he had to resign his actual job of wholesaler-distributor. Jean-Claude was married, so he didn't know if it was good to take the risk of losing his job without being sure of getting the job of medical representative. But he still decided to try, and went one month in training course in Paris to learn the basics of medicine to try to catch up, and to work his competitive entrance exam.
Only, he didn't choose the right month to go work in Paris, because he went in May 1968, which means during the great french social crisis, which led to a wave of political, social and cultural contestation movements by almost all the French people. This revolt began with a student movement in the capital, and it then generalized, leading to general strikes that have imperiled the summit of the state. The building where Mr. Delapierre was studying, was located at the heart of the demonstrations, which made him working in very difficults conditions: he could never concentrate or sleep... During this month, Jean-Claude lost 10kgs ! Finally, he took the competition with his competitor who has obtained a 18/20, against a 18.5/20 from Jean-Claude !! He won, so then he became medical representative in June 1968, at the age of 24 years old.
He then fixed a new challenge: to be among the best medical representatives of his team. This mentality allowed him to be promoted to the position of Director of Medical visitors of the Rhône-Alpes region in 1990, at the age of 46 years. He was able to evolve with his own team (that he recruited himself), to make medical trainings, etc... Moreover, Jean-Claude applied different methods of work than other directors. Indeed, he has opted to privilege the « human », which means that he was always attentive to his colleagues, to never have any problems, and to make the company evolve in a good atmosphere ; he left them work alone, he wasn't always behind them, because he wanted them to develop some autonomy, and he didn't want to treat them as « flunkeys ». Thanks to this methods, the Rhône-Alpes region stayed, for almost all the years he was director, the best French region of medical representatives, in terms of results. This earned him the visit from one of the European pharmaceutical managers, who wanted to see by himself how Jean-Claude worked.
What Mr. Delapierre learned from it all, is that educational qualifications don't always mean everything: what matters most is the will, the volition, because, according to him, « When we want: we can ». Indeed, Jean-Claude started with almost nothing and succeeded, and, additional, he succeded more than he hoped because he didn't think that one day he would become a Regional Director...
Jean- Claude Delapierre then concludes by saying:
" When you want to succeed your life, and if you take the trouble: then you can become a successful man."
Living Through The Algerian War by Marie VIANA
I’m Jean, I was born in 1937, in Paris. My childhood was very hard both for myself and my two brothers and two sisters. My father as a policeman worked enormously to feed us and to bring us up. In the 50’s, my father was transferred to Chambéry. Leaving Paris had been one of the biggest disruptions of my life. Arriving in Savoy, I managed to get by very quickly, I became quickly independent. At fourteen years old, I became a pork butcher’s assistant in Annecy. I left my family so as not to have to do the journey every day from Chambéry to Annecy. I was put up at my employer’s home. I was exploited, I only ate scraps of food. I slept on a wooden plank. Conditions were very hard and very disagreeable. But my life became even more of a nightmare when I began my military service. At the age of nineteen, the age of innocence, of beautiful meetings. We knew that we would participate, that the war killed. But we only fully realized when we were on the battle ground. In 1956 I was nineteen years old and my military service began. I was sent to Algeria as my father had been before me. Leaving my mother, my brothers and my sisters was a heartbreaking experience. To find myself all alone in a truck surrounded by soldiers as young as me, to think that it was maybe the last time that I would ever see my family. I was very awkward young man and it was such a tough experience. Arriving in Algeria, we knew that we had to kill Fellagha, to look for enemies.
Each evening, when we slept, we had to divide roles, some did the lookout to watch the enemies arriving because often, we were attacked at night. Sleeping on the floor, under my mosquito net, I was suddenly woken up by the bark of my dog. My dog saved my skin because there was a Fellegha above my head with a dagger. He was ready to cut my throat. I had the fear of my life. But he ran away. It was very traumatic for me. The more days went by, the more difficult it was for me to stand the war both morally and physically.
We had the right to have leave for about fifteen days to pay a visit to our family. On the way to France, we had a break in Briançon. On one particular evening, to try to forget the terror of the war, we went to a dance. I had a splendid meeting, a beautiful woman with blue open wide eyes, with beautiful long hair which flew in the same way as her dress which made a perfect outline. I completely fell under her charm. Since this day, we swore that we would write to each other each day. And from my journey home, till the end of my military service, we wrote to each other every day.
But, in between time, my leave came to an end. Back to reality, I was travelling on the dry road in a Jeep in a convoy of military vehicles when thousands of missile were aimed at the French. I lost many friends during these ambushes. I saw them die before my eyes. It is a memory that I will never forget. At the end of my military service, I met my sweetheart Marie-Jeanne, we married in 1960. I started a family. I was the happiest father in the world, such an improvement in my life after my dreadful adventure in Algeria. It isn’t impossible to forget this war, it is part of me, I keep in my skin, my flesh to this day, the painful memory of this war.
Each evening, when we slept, we had to divide roles, some did the lookout to watch the enemies arriving because often, we were attacked at night. Sleeping on the floor, under my mosquito net, I was suddenly woken up by the bark of my dog. My dog saved my skin because there was a Fellegha above my head with a dagger. He was ready to cut my throat. I had the fear of my life. But he ran away. It was very traumatic for me. The more days went by, the more difficult it was for me to stand the war both morally and physically.
We had the right to have leave for about fifteen days to pay a visit to our family. On the way to France, we had a break in Briançon. On one particular evening, to try to forget the terror of the war, we went to a dance. I had a splendid meeting, a beautiful woman with blue open wide eyes, with beautiful long hair which flew in the same way as her dress which made a perfect outline. I completely fell under her charm. Since this day, we swore that we would write to each other each day. And from my journey home, till the end of my military service, we wrote to each other every day.
But, in between time, my leave came to an end. Back to reality, I was travelling on the dry road in a Jeep in a convoy of military vehicles when thousands of missile were aimed at the French. I lost many friends during these ambushes. I saw them die before my eyes. It is a memory that I will never forget. At the end of my military service, I met my sweetheart Marie-Jeanne, we married in 1960. I started a family. I was the happiest father in the world, such an improvement in my life after my dreadful adventure in Algeria. It isn’t impossible to forget this war, it is part of me, I keep in my skin, my flesh to this day, the painful memory of this war.
A Moroccan Childhood by Margot BOUCHET
For my project in The Czech Republic, I had to chose an old person to interview him or her about a period of his or her life. So, I chose my grandma because she has had a really interesting life.
She told me about a period of seven years from the year 1947 when she he was living in Morocco.
“It was in 1947, I came to arrive from Madagascar. There I was in a convent school, the rules were very strict. We didn’t have freedom. The school in Morocco was very different than my previous one. The life at my new school was very free, with a lot of cultural diversities; there were Spanish, German, French, etc. I was like a shock for me.
Life was nice; with my family we did so many things during the week end, we went cycling, to the swimming pool, visited large cities (compared to the country where we lived) like Marrakech. I discovered parties where we went with my friends. There we used to dance, sometimes there were dance competitions. It was great fun but not like the parties you go to, we drank only orange juice, teenagers didn’t smoke like the young people do today. The next day, I went skiing. I often got sun burnt because the sun was so hot. The city where I lived, allowed me to be independent. I remember, going skiing, we were in a “doge”, it’s kind of a big jeep with only a white cover, and an iron seat. We were cold, so we sang to warm our selves. Skiing was very different than today, we went up on foot, and to ski down we had just two bends, maybe three at best!
However, sometimes it was difficult to live there. There was the Algerian War. My dad was a soldier, and he told some horrible stories. For example, he had a mission to go to the countryside, to bring back families who were burnt alive. He found a lot of families who were tortured… At school, the Arab population, were so mean with foreigners, and particularly with the Spanish. Moreover, they were the first to leave the country. I remember the Spanish city, everything was closed because of their fear. I lived far from school, and once a man followed me, and when I turned around, I slapped him and gave him a kick, and I ran as fast as I could. When I was young, I loved to go to the theatre. I used to go alone, then dad chose to accompany me, and after he told me that we shouldn’t go anymore because it was too dangerous. My parents decided to send back my brother to Paris my uncle’s home and me to Great Britain for our security. One year after, I returned to Morocco, and once I received threats, so when I went to my job (as a desk clerk in a hotel). I was in a big army car. With my mother, we liked to go to the market, but we had to be careful, and look around us, at baskets we saw because the Arabs used to put bombs in them. One summer, we went on holiday, to a center run by the army, close to the sea. I was with four of my friends, on the balcony, having a great time, and we heard a shot and the bullet passed, between my best friend’s head and mine. I was terrified!
So, we had to leave Morocco, that’s was better for us despite all the great moments we had spent living there.”
She told me about a period of seven years from the year 1947 when she he was living in Morocco.
“It was in 1947, I came to arrive from Madagascar. There I was in a convent school, the rules were very strict. We didn’t have freedom. The school in Morocco was very different than my previous one. The life at my new school was very free, with a lot of cultural diversities; there were Spanish, German, French, etc. I was like a shock for me.
Life was nice; with my family we did so many things during the week end, we went cycling, to the swimming pool, visited large cities (compared to the country where we lived) like Marrakech. I discovered parties where we went with my friends. There we used to dance, sometimes there were dance competitions. It was great fun but not like the parties you go to, we drank only orange juice, teenagers didn’t smoke like the young people do today. The next day, I went skiing. I often got sun burnt because the sun was so hot. The city where I lived, allowed me to be independent. I remember, going skiing, we were in a “doge”, it’s kind of a big jeep with only a white cover, and an iron seat. We were cold, so we sang to warm our selves. Skiing was very different than today, we went up on foot, and to ski down we had just two bends, maybe three at best!
However, sometimes it was difficult to live there. There was the Algerian War. My dad was a soldier, and he told some horrible stories. For example, he had a mission to go to the countryside, to bring back families who were burnt alive. He found a lot of families who were tortured… At school, the Arab population, were so mean with foreigners, and particularly with the Spanish. Moreover, they were the first to leave the country. I remember the Spanish city, everything was closed because of their fear. I lived far from school, and once a man followed me, and when I turned around, I slapped him and gave him a kick, and I ran as fast as I could. When I was young, I loved to go to the theatre. I used to go alone, then dad chose to accompany me, and after he told me that we shouldn’t go anymore because it was too dangerous. My parents decided to send back my brother to Paris my uncle’s home and me to Great Britain for our security. One year after, I returned to Morocco, and once I received threats, so when I went to my job (as a desk clerk in a hotel). I was in a big army car. With my mother, we liked to go to the market, but we had to be careful, and look around us, at baskets we saw because the Arabs used to put bombs in them. One summer, we went on holiday, to a center run by the army, close to the sea. I was with four of my friends, on the balcony, having a great time, and we heard a shot and the bullet passed, between my best friend’s head and mine. I was terrified!
So, we had to leave Morocco, that’s was better for us despite all the great moments we had spent living there.”
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