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Brokenhearted, Afghan refugee. Not ‘frenchy’, enough.


Today, I had my lunch at the work canteen, with my friend, Samir. We have been working at the luggage service, during 5 months, once back from my sick leave. One of the most kind-at-hearted person I have ever met. A real dude. Not only he shared his personal story with me and our colleagues, when he early arrived at the service. But he sudden became one of my best friends, although 15 years younger than me (28 – 43).

We haven’t met since a while, and before meeting him, I wondered if I could interview him, like Sebastian Junger would. In order to put his story on this blog and give another point of vew, the “afghan refugee”. We take our meal, on a table, among french and many other nationalities, around us. “So, what’s up, anto?” He asks me. And I start telling him about my last books, Tribe, War in Afghanistan and so on. Before I can tell him about the concept behind my last hero’s mind, he shows me the picture of an Italian girl he’s been hanging on during the past year. Ok, I see. Forget the long way from Kabul through Turkey and Greece. Samir needs a couple of open ears.

What’s wrong with me? I gave her all the attention and also made a Christmas present, and she hasn’t been honest with me. She had a boyfriend. And now she is with another guy, a technicien. I was such a gentleman.

And I know, he really means it.




Before we continue in our conversation, I try to savour my gnocchi with italian mascarpone gorgonzola cheese mixed with swiss gruyere. Yes, yum.

The girl in the picture reminds me of pretty girls who know how to get favours from good guys like him. The kind of girls I hated when younger. Cutie, smiling pretty faces with long brown hair, with trendy sunglasses. She comes from Sicily. She shocks my friend by saying that he is not french enough. That she prefers dating frogs.

“Stop being kind.” I cry at him, calm but firmly. “You knoe, between gangster and gentleman there is a balance. Got it? Next time, Sam, I will shut at you like marines trainers, if you don’t catch it.”

Samir is proud, he gets his own car, they are 7 in the family, I once met his little sister, she is a clever, smart little girl. We went to the amusement park and had fun, together, like a family.  We have a small talk, and I wonder if he’s still thinking to leave for US. “It’s a misery, anywhere, now.”

Sadly, but truely.

Before I let him go, he drops me at the bus stop, and tells me he’s going to Iran for holidays, part of his family is still there. And Dubai, Turkey. “Do you feel safe there?” “You know, anto, I respect the law wherever I go. If you don’t act stupid, there is no issue. No matter the Country. Don’t you think?”

Deep, and wise, Samir: respect is the key.

Both traveling, and flirting.

A good day to all

ab xx






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