Before coming to Reunion Island, I had my fears and qualms. Would I be a good teacher? Would I make friends? Would I get restless and want to swim ashore to get off this tiny speck on an island? Well, there’s a reason why it’s best to show up to a new place without expectations. Sure, I still have my worries about doing a good job (as well I should, it keeps me on my toes), but I still haven’t yet hit a case of “island fever,” where my head tells me “run away! It’s too small!”
And Reunion Island really is small. I laugh about it, but it is ironic how my commute every morning covers over a quarter of the west coast of the island. Or how in one day you can easily do a tour de l’ile, with a hike up to the volcano to boot, and still get home for dinner at a reasonable hour. The best part is what I like to call a “walk around town.” I usually make fun of my friends who have lived on the island for sometime, or their whole lives that they know EVERYONE. Even Dominique who claims to hide in her house all day long has to stop every few minutes to say hi to old students, good friends, or relatives.
I went on a walk last night to grab some pizza with my friends, who stopped at the base of our driveway to say hi to friends wandering by (I swear this piece of pavement is where everyone runs into everyone, like magic). I was about to tease them about it, when halfway through my sentence I saw two smiling faces that I recognized from salsa class. Oh, hi! I replied, giving the traditional bisous (one kiss on each cheek, it’s very French), just in time to see Jerome, my neighbor, walking towards me. “Salut, Laura, ca va?” Needless to say Benjamin and Joe started snickering. “Now you KNOW everyone, Laura,” laughed Ben, as we walked by dozens more of his surfer friends that greeted us noisily in Creole. Well, there are worse things in life. I guess this is what happens when you live on an island.
