Suddenly, everybody’s gone. And it’s not as if I hadn’t seen it coming, or as if I hadn’t tried to mentally prepare myself. Yet, it is sudden.
Then I realize, they are not gone, I am!
Which reminds me of what my mom told me: when I was little, I played hide and seek by covering my eyes. I thought no one could see me.
So as my friendships have become virtual, and I haven’t familiarized myself with my new surroundings yet, I write. Mostly to people back in Grenoble. This is part of a letter I sent to an artist I got to know in Grenoble:
C’est un peu bizarre, émigrer, Grenoble me manque. Je pense souvent aux gens que je connaissais là. J’attends leur voix, ou je vois quelqu’un dans le tram ici, qui me rappelle d’eux… Et quand je ferme les yeux, je vois une rue à Grenoble. Où la place aux herbes, par exemple.
À Grenoble, quand je fermais les yeux, je voyais souvent des lieux, mais des lieux insignifiants, à Amsterdam, d’où je viens. C’est rigolo, non ?
It’s a little weird, emigrating, I miss Grenoble. I often think of people I knew back there. I hear their voices, or I see someone in the tram here, that reminds me of them… And when I close my eyes, I see a street in Grenoble. Or ‘La Place aux Herbes’, for example (a local fruit and vegetable market).
In Grenoble, when I used to close my eyes, I would often see places, but (they were) rather insignificant places, in Amsterdam, where I’m from originally. Isn’t that funny?
I’ll be off to explore Munich now… But first I will go and stand in front of my former apartment building in Grenoble and then go for a quick walk through town.