Credits

Two years ago, I came to France to take a break. Little did I know, not only did it break my strong and stubborn spirit, but it humbled me, softened me, and helped me to find my warmth, humanity, intellectuality and spirituality.

When I left Paris one year ago, I thought I shed tears because I missed the trees, the rivers, the cool fresh air, the gardens, the apple trees, the grape vines and the flowers. I thought I would be happy if I worked here, in this small little town of Rueil-Malmaison.

But this time, when I came back to Paris, one year after leaving it, after meeting up with my classmates and friends, I realize that it was not Paris I missed. It was the friends that I had made throughout my stay here.

I miss the intellectual conversations that we have during lunch breaks, dinners, field trips and weekends. I miss talking about life, its definition, its purpose, its meaning.

I miss the discussions about international relations and its impact on the global socio-economy and welfare of its citizens. I miss exploring religion from different aspects, perspectives and views through the eyes of a socialist, democrat, atheist and believers.

When I came two years ago, I was like a music box with broken parts, unable to turn or sing, like a bird who lost its voice,with broken wings. It was my friends whom I met here, who renewed my faith, my hope, my trust and my purpose in life.

There's Prizila, who, like me, decided to take a break from work to redefine her life and her priorities. There's Naomi, who fearlessly shared her testimony on how God changed her life and how it could change others, and engulfed me in flames when all I could do was cackle like wet wood. There's Antoine, who taught me French during wireline logging lessons in class, embedding his French accent into his English conversations. There's Florian, who wasn't afraid to be who he is, good or evil, angel or menace, who readily, courageously admitted what he did, who knew he was shrewd and used his wits. It was my very first time to meet someone who did not feel the need to pretend, who did exactly what he wanted, stretching the boundaries of morality as much as he could. There's Gonza, who was a strong pillar of support throughout my studies, who stuck with me through thick and thin, who taught me to communicate verbally, when all I wanted to do was shut myself in my world of silence. There's Mansour, who taught me to question everything, including my beliefs, my thoughts, my values, my character and my background. There's Quentin, who taught me statistics and correlations, and inspired me to aim further and look beyond my present capabilities. There's Kostya, whose low, deep, even and calm tone of voice could soothe any agitated spirit. Then there's Moralito, who treats girls like delicate jewels, taking care of each of us, readily offering his help whenever we are in distress. And of course, Evgenii, with his strong, enthusiastic and fearless Russian spirit, who perseveres despite all odds; Masha, who warmed my heart, a young lady in her twienties who loved music in the sixties, teaching me how to love; and Alina, who's pure and innocent, and I did not even have the heart to tell her to wear a metal armour to shield herself, just in case she got bogged down by its weight.  

Oh! Did I also mention my professors? SB, who taught me to hang on tight, the road ahead may be rough, but to be change agents, we must stick around like glue. Be strong headed, be strong willed, no matter how long it takes, be it 3 years, 5 years, 7 years, 10 years,.... , stick around long enough to bring positive impact to your circle of influence. OL, who exposed me to reservoir characterization for the first time and I fell in love with it at first sight and knew that it would be my calling, my vocation for the next half of my life. IB, who nourished me, cherished me, watered me, showered me with hugs, kisses, bright sun rays and rainbows everywhere, when all I could see was storms, thunders, lightning and dark, grey clouds. MA, who showed me how to execute our best, and not expect others to respond the way we want them to. and of course, CL, who made me fell in love with geology with all her varied creative approaches.

I love France and all that it has to offer. Its art is an expression of individualism. Its fashion exudes simplicity and elegance. Its architecture is an attestation to its history. Its cuisine is an art. Its gardens are a reflection of its philosophical ideologies. Its history is about flexibility. Its people are inspiring. Every conversation with a French citizen is like sitting around the table of Socrates, engaging in conversations which provoke thoughts, answering with questions, and questioning with answers, like a mirror which reflects itself, creating an infinite number of images and solutions.

Yes. All of us came to France (on the pretext of studying) with different expectations. Yet, having submerged ourselves in French waters, we emerged out of its magical ocean with more confidence, a stronger sense of purpose in life, developing our own unique sense of individualism, finding our niche. Most of all, we found out who we really are, not afraid to be our true selves and having the courage to live it out.