Story about moving to another country

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story about moving to another country

The Girl Who Smiled Beads: A Story of War and What Comes After by Clemantine Wamariya

Clemantine Wamariya was six years old when her mother and father began to speak in whispers, when neighbors began to disappear, and when she heard the loud, ugly sounds her brother said were thunder. In 1994, she and her fifteen-year-old sister, Claire, fled the Rwandan massacre and spent the next six years wandering through seven African countries, searching for safety--perpetually hungry, imprisoned and abused, enduring and escaping refugee camps, finding unexpected kindness, witnessing inhuman cruelty. They did not know whether their parents were dead or alive.

When Clemantine was twelve, she and her sister were granted asylum in the United States, where she embarked on another journey--to excavate her past and, after years of being made to feel less than human, claim her individuality.
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Published 06.12.2018

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How to move to another country and start a new life abroad?

I was six years old, playing by the pool with my new puppy. I loved swimming in the pool almost every day after school. I also enjoyed going out on our boat after school or crossing the street and going to the beach. My father came home one evening with some interesting news. Now, I do not remember exactly how I felt about the news at that time, but it seemed like I did not mind that much. He had announced that we were going to move back to my birth country, Belgium

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I have moved so many times in my life. Seven years later another move happened, this time to the U. I lived in America for 10 years.

That's OK. But one should bear in mind two things. First, if something goes wrong — if there seems to be a problem — then relying on tradition isn't good enough. It's not working, and you'll need to tweak something or find another tradition. And second, a thoughtful person should critically evaluate some traditions.

I immediately wrote it down, to see if I could get not just the events but the feeling of the dream into prose. Maybe I did, maybe not. In any case one of the characteristics of dream is that things do not explain themselves, they simply happen. Later I fleshed it out into a story. About half is from what I remembered of the dream, the rest invented. For example, the end is exactly from the dream; the clown came later. Yes, the title echoes Hemingway, but it needs to be that title.

Well, so far I have only given you guys some tips and have shared my experience living in a flat with a lot of people. One important thing that you have no idea how it will be like after you move, unless you've lived abroad before, is your life. You leave behind all those things that are certain and go into the life of the uncertain. But isn't that what life is? A life full of uncertainty? One of my biggest fears had always been of not knowing what was about to come, therefore I hated surprises, changes or anything that took away what I thought was certain. And somehow I found myself moving to a country to which I had never been before, where the natives speak a language that is unknown to me even if all of them do speak English , where the weather was nothing like the one I was used to and etc.

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