The Estranged Francophone

Posted by Maud on June 13th, 2008 | Categorized as General Forum | 148 views and 7 Comments

Hello to all!

Well I’ve just heard of the term TCK and as I read about it, it finally dawned on me that there was a word for my condition, hurray! Well, like all of you I have been tossed here and there. Different worlds, customs and languages. Different states of mind. It all started really soon in fact, just when I was two months old my French father and Canadian mother flew with me and my older brother to Caracas, Venezuela. What could I do? I learned Spanish, went crazy for avocadoes and learned to walk ( that must have been the hardest part) . Two years later we all hopped on a plane and started a new life in the south of France, only to move a year later to Constantine in Algeria. I remember  going to the local pre-school and trying to talk Spanish. Not a success. Anyways, after another year we went from sunny Algeria to Geneva. And this is where I spent the longest stay of my life (5 whole years!!) going to a french school in Ferney Voltaire, just across the border. It was fun there, I loved it, and still have many fond memories.

But my father eventually got a new job, this time in the ole US of A - a place I had never seen except onscreen watching spaghetti Western movies. Let’s just say I was a bit disappointed when at the age of 9 I stepped on American soil only to find the great white marbled buildings of Washington DC, no saloons, no horses and no desperadoes :(   All went well though, my father decided to put me in an American school although I spoke not a word of English - See how it turned out? I speek ‘nglish purfektly, yo! Word.

After three years of watching the Simpsons, and as I finally got the sense of what it was to live in the US, my dad’s employer decided it was high time my father went to Bolivia. Of all places. Well let me tell you, I loved Bolivia from the very start. And this is where I got to spend all these teenage years that are really the best and worst part of life. To this day I long to go back, I have nostalgia about La Paz, big time nostalgia. Anyhoo, when I turned 15 or so I could feel it coming in the air, and without fail my dad gathered us up and said: Time to pack! ‘Annamo in Italia! Now I did not completely understand right then and there but I assumed it had something to do with moving and Italy.

So to Italy we flew.  Rome to be precise. They say all roads lead to it and mine was no exeption. My brother and I both finished our schooling years there, in the French/International school, 3 years later in 2001.

Free at last! cried my brother. No more moving, I can now stay wherever I like! And so he did. Flew with me to France and settled in Marseilles, where he’s been ever since. I couldn’t rest though. Staying in one place was to difficult for me. I didn’t even feel really at home in France. I tried, nevertheless. Went to the Faculty of Medecine, in Montpellier. But ah, couldn’t do it. The migration call was too strong, it rang in my ears. So I moved, and moved and moved again, to different places, and now here I am, back to my place of birth: Montreal !! I’m like a foreigner here, let me tell you

Maud Payen Chartrand

I'm 25 now. Have lived in Quebec, Venezuela, France, Algeria, Washington DC, Bolivia and Italy. Just moved to Montreal!