All you need is love

Seems like I’ve found what I was looking for…

hery and vola

Hery and I got engaged on the 22nd of December ! In Paris, the city of love.

Sorry for having not posted anything for a while. I left B’ham at the end of October. Now I must admit that I would never have been able to stand a long-distance relationship.

I am very grateful to the people who have helped me build my life there. Thank you so much for all your love. I owe you a lot.

Bye-bye UK, see you later !

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‘Cause I still haven’t found what I’m looking for

18th of October – 18th of August. I realised this morning that I’ve been here for two months. Time to look back, uh ?

So, what have I learnt since I’m here ?
Erm, has anyone another question maybe ?
Just kidding.
I’ve learnt that you have to fight hard even to get a job as waitress. Forget about your diplomas and your former expectations. Be happy if they let you become a cleaner.
I had a CV surgery as they call it. It is a review of your CV with nice people supposed to help you find a job.
“Your CV doesn’t make you justice”, I’ve been told.
“You put too much information in it”.True. I nodded in a guilty way like I felt sorry for having skills. So I rewrote it as they told me. Basically, what’s in my CV now ?
My name is Vola and I can read and write.
I’m not kidding that time. Hope it will help me to find a job at McDonald’s.
So, still no rewarding job, but it teaches me patience and humility (who said I needed it?).

What else?
At least, I have a flat. Or I should say: I had a flat. This is another thing I learnt here. Never trust a Pakistanese landlord.
I would never be able to say that type of things in France without being called “racist”. But you can’t deny that that landlord has a condescendant way of dealing with people who arrived more recently in UK than he. He pretends to be more British than other migrants. That is supposed to grant him with special rights. I hate him, but I love his house. I visited dozens of other flats. There is no comparison. So I don’t want to move but on the 2nd of November, if we haven’t found another flatmate, well… Start from scratch.

With being here in UK for 2 months, I thought I would have settled somewhere. But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.
Or perhaps, I still don’t know what I’m looking for…

PS: sorry for a so-sad come-back but one month without internet at home has just let me in a suicidal mood (almost 😉 )

Sorry seems to be the hardest word

Not for British people actually. They just spend the whole day apologising. ” Ooh sorry. I’m really sorry. Sorry to say sorry. Sorry to be sorry to have to say sorry, etc…” I just figure out I’m the rudest person in the country. (who said, it’s normal because you are French? !!).

At least, I do not call anybody Darling. Here in the Midlands, there is an expression that everybody uses 20 times a day, it is “darling”. When I’m lost in the bus and I ask for directions you can be pretty sure someone is going to tell me “oh Darling, you should take that bus, Darling. You’re going the wrong way, Darling”.
The first time I was startled: come on, I’m not your darling. I’m the darling of my darling but I don’t know you. How come you just call me like that ? (well actually I didn’t say that aloud, but I thought it in such a strong way that you could read it on my face).
Now I’m getting used to hearing this. So I think I will try to say it to the next handsome guy I see on the bus. To see how he reacts. :-))
(EDIT= I’ve just been told, this works only with female and generally it is people older than you who tell you that sort of things. I’m so upset. 😉 )

Here comes the sun, little darling

Is there anything more cliché than a street musician playing one of the Beatles’ best song in England ? Actually he did it pretty well and the weather became shinier as long as he was singing.
I was being stolen by my beloved bank withdrawing some cash when I heard his sweet voice. I began to sing and the people next to me started to whistle it as well.
Just a bit of happiness in this cruel capitalist world.
Here comes the sun, baby. I’ll soon get a job.

A-a-a-a staying alive, staying alive

My main concern for the moment is not finding a job (well, it should be actually). But it is more about crossing the road without being hit by a kéké’s car. If anyone knows the English equivalent for kéké, please write it as a comment. For English speakers, a kéké is usually a young man driving a car with a very bad musical taste and the bass speakers very loud. A kéké always drives too fast and is as dangerous as ugly most of the time.
The thing is I never know on what side I should look before crossing. So I spend 10 seconds each time looking for cars on both sides. I am still not used to seeing cars on the wrong side of the road.
Besides, since I was a child I’ve always had problems with distinguishing my left hand from my right one. I know it is a shame. Actually, I am right-handed. So I know that the hand I write with is my right one. But it is not as easy as it seems. There are many things I just can’t do with that hand. For example, I can only snap my left-hand fingers. When I want to open a jam pot, I usually manage it with my left hand as well.
I remember my driving teacher going crazy, shouting at me ” I told you to turn on your LEFT ! YOUR LEFT ! Are you deaf or dumb ?”. Well, great memories …
Next chapter of my so exciting English life: managing to find a job. (First, let’s try not to die while crossing the street to catch the bus)

Why don’t you get a job ? [I won’t pay, I won’t pay you, no way ]

Or why don’t I get one ? I just feel useless. I’ve been here for one week at least and I haven’t found a job yet which I would be enough interested in to write a proper cover letter.
I’ve written and sent some applications, of course. Many ads were just boring,as for the others I wonder whether I understood them well.
I am not one of those kind of person able to lie “I would be delighted to make these sandwiches or to sweep the road”. I am not sorry.
Maybe I’ve just studied too much and I should learn about humility now. I perfectly know where my frustration comes from. I love writing. I’m addicted to this. As I know how things work in France, whenever I write a cover letter in French I know exactly how I will make my reader smile or read my resume.
I just can’t do that in English.
Luckily, a very kind friend of mine (great news, I have new friends!) read my resume, made some corrections and printed it at her work. I’ll meet her this afternoon to get my copies and bring one to a Reed agency right after.
Hope I’ll find something funnier than making sandwiches. (perhaps I should try as it is a good way to learn new recipes 🙂 )

Shiny happy people laughing [at me]

Wherever I go, whatever I do, I just feel like I’ve been cheated. When I arrived at the airport, I took some cash at the bank cashier. I knew that my so-loved French bank would charge me with commissions each time I try to use the money I’ve worked for. But I didn’t know it would hurt so much. It’s like my bank has invented a new game: let’s steal as much money as we can from her account and keep on pretending it is normal and legal.

Then today I bought a “pay as you go” mobile phone. I clearly told the seller I wanted the cheapest one. I didn’t know why I added I would like to text France as well. So I bought an internation SIM card, with a Vodaphone cellphone so I just paid £50 for only £20 of real communications.
At least, I shouldn’t complain as I have a phone number which is ahahahhaa. Did you really think I would give you my phone number ? I still don’t have any friends here but I’ve just kept good habits from Paris. (show me your picture first then I’ll know if you’re worthy of being given my phone number ;-))

I just feel like everybody in the crowd wants to take my money. That’s why shiny happy people seem to want, don’t they ?
Maybe I’m just paranoid.
Maybe I’m just lost.
Maybe I should search for a well-paid boring job instead of creative and interesting jobs. (it usually helps to pay the bills).