And The Summer Was Over…

I would have never envisioned leaving home, I had lived in Brussels, Belgium for almost a decade. I was used to the way the cars dashed up and down the street beneath my window and mostly I was used to the cold gloomy mornings, often with a sprinkle of rain. That rain, even though cold, felt comforting as it hit and trickled down my skin. My life was very fundamental, just like the constant somber weather that defines Belgium. I had never thought of my life as interesting or different from the one of my peers and closest friends, but that was about to change. I was moving to another continent. Nowadays, I often think my experiences set me apart from others. 

Living in Belgium is all I had ever known and all I considered being in my extended future. The bus rides to elementary school, the fresh cold air that would send shivers down my spine in the winter, and the smell of delicious waffles or french fries at every corner would however, soon dissipate. My family wanted to be together, and even though my father had been away in Guinea Bissau for longer than I could remember, I dreaded the thought of changing schools and moving to another country to reconcile our family. 

Tunisia was Belgium’s polar opposite, a different climate and a different culture. My first memory is from when I exited the airport and was immediately hit with a wall of heat, a weather unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It was comparable to standing over a stovetop of boiling water as you anticipate for your meal to cook. The lack of colors in the environment was another striking feature of this new country. Everything was painted white or blue to control the heat which gave the place an unwelcoming and almost deserted feel. The only sense of comfort I obtained from Tunisia’s landscape was the mediterranean sea which seemed to be calm and comforting as the waves ondulated back and forth from shore along with the subtle, yet audible,  crash of the water on the wet sand. The cars no longer dashed up and down the street busily, the absence of this noise never accustomed me to the difference of environment. 

The only way to get to school were car rides, an unfamiliar contrast from the cold bus rides in Belgium. The car left my hair in a tangled mess with the hot air from the open windows. Small things like this gave me a sense of joy towards this place despite my biased opinion on my hometown. Everything was strange yet I felt like a new door had opened with opportunities. I took on a new life, just like my body pierced the surface of the new pool in my backyard. The pool very soon became my favorite place as it was one of the very few ways to escape the dry drenching heat of a Tunisian summer. Not only swimming became my passion, I also started playing tennis, dancing through hardwood floors on my pointe shoes and galloping through the Tunisian desert as I took on horse riding. 

“I took on a new life, just like my body pierced through the surface of the pool in my backyard.”

I had taken a place in a community unlike my own and made new connections, physical and psychological relating to my observations gathered on this new place and culture. Their language first intimidated me but as I became more familiar with Arabic I found beauty in the characters and how Tunisians scribed them on pieces of paper and road signs with great care and suppleness from left to right. The people there were friendly and gave me a greater sense of community, but visually they were different from the usual European stereotype to which I was accustomed. Women dressed themselves in burkas from head to toe despite the high temperature. Something about seeing the bright silky material drape from their bodies as though colors were dancing up and down the street gave the place character. The people filled in the monochrome blue and white streets and gave it life. Their complexion and features were very different from mine, but this did not set me apart from other kids at my school. It intrigued my ten year old mind, when it was just becoming more preoccupied with drawing more mature connections to elements of life. 

The period of my life in which I transitioned from one continent to another made me realize how alive I felt when creating new experiences and stepping out of a comfort zone. I had never heard that language before, I had never experienced that heat before, I had never felt like I did not belong; however, all of these experiences made my life more exciting. The sudden joy of living and beginning to understand my experiences is a defining moment of my transition from childhood to adulthood.