The Invisible Net
I’ve never felt so connected while living so far away.
Steven, Nadia, Fabienne—I don’t “miss” you in the sad sense because you are already here. Your joy when I pop up in your phones powers my days. You live in my chest like extra lungs.
My Swiss family—we grew closer the minute I chose distance. I love you all. Please: no more real-estate crises.
Riadh, Delivered to My Door
Without him, I wouldn’t have survived this week. He is Luna’s chosen deity and my quiet, solid guide. He listens, carries, translates culture, and offers companionship without commentary.
Bonus level: his mother. Wandering Sousse’s souk with Mama; getting a haircut in a salon with the charm of an 80s laundromat; realizing that family is sometimes on loan—and that’s beautiful.
Ramailo: Deep Healing via Tinder
Random match, familiar soul. On my darkest night here, swollen-eyed and sleepless, I reached out a virtual hand—he held it. Our conversations feed me so well that I stay full for days. If he doesn’t knock again, I will.
Jawhar: The Annoying Angel of “Just Say No”
He drives me to the brink—with truth. No saves time. But if I always said no, I’d miss getting sweet-talked across the souk and politely kidnapped into a ceramic shop three alleys later. The Swiss “Jein” (means: yes, no and maybe) lives in my DNA. Sometimes indecision is adventure’s doorbell.
Mantra (Part 2): Life is heavy metal right now—too loud to be safe, too good to be boring.
Thank-You Roll (keep this for future me)
- Steven, Nadia, Fabienne (Switzerland): You don’t let me feel far. You’re power banks I can’t overheat.
- My wonderfully chaotic Swiss family: I love you. Your support lands like pillows. (And no more property plots. Pinky swear.)
- Riadh: Dog-sitter, friend, guide, patient human. Luna worships you; I’m not far behind. Thank you for the insider tips, the errands you quietly took on, and the silence that felt like safety.
- Mama (Riadh’s mum): Thank you for the souk, the laughter, and the gentle, grounding presence.
- Ramailo: For midnight balm and conversations that feed instead of scroll.
What Stays
- My toothbrush.
- My clarity.
- My “No.” (Travels light; fits every pocket.)
What Goes
- The imaginary sofa.
- The myth that a handshake is a contract.
- The idea that “home” is keys. Home is a felt sense.
P.S. I’m fine. I’m tired. I’m proud. Tunisia is my chaos classroom and my favorite punchline.
Next up (teaser for Week 3):
Hair adventures (botox/keratin/glossing decoded), the quest for office chairs, and Route des Terrorists, uwh, Tourorrists—Hard Mode.