Tag: human interest
“As a child, I was always the odd one out. I couldn’t settle at school or at home and always felt uncomfortable. I often felt like I was missing something, or that I was doing something that didn’t suit my character. My parents lived structured lives and weren’t open to trying new things. Sometimes I was asked by friends to go snowboarding or skiing, but I was never allowed to join them. As a family we went on holiday to Greece and just lay on the beach, with nothing to do. I’d decided on a career as a gymnastics teacher after high school and enrolled for a Bachelor degree. Sadly, my father became very ill during and passed away. As a result, I stopped studying and eventually dropped out.
After my father’s death, my mom encouraged me to resume my studies. When I obtained my diploma, I started working at Sport Vlaanderen, at the time still known as BLOSO. I went to sports camps and started doing seasonal work during summer. This brought me in contact with water sports and reminded me how crazy I had always been about water. My interest in water sports continued to grow and that first winter I left for a surf camp abroad. From then on a whole new world opened up for me and I would spend my summers working for an interim agency in Belgium, so that I could go on surf and sports camps with tour operators during the winter. The interim jobs were very diverse. One year I worked as a teacher, the other year I worked in a factory. I got to know a lot of people, gained a different perspective on life, and for the first time ever I knew that what I was doing was meant for me.
I enjoy teaching children and young people but I don’t want to be part of the Belgian education system. Working day in, day out and returning home, following a lot of rules and bumping into a huge number of procedures doesn’t suit my character. I need to be outside and experience freedom. I find inner peace abroad, but not in Belgium. Africa, Jamaica, Sri Lanka, Indonesia,… you name it; I have lived and stayed everywhere and nowhere for a while.
In between and during these travels I had a few relationships, but it was only when I got to know Irina that the picture felt right for the first time. She also worked in education but was open to my lifestyle and suggested doing a winter season together. I had no clue where we would end up, but in Val Thorens I learned that I could have started working the snow seasons much sooner. I’ve never regretted starting seasonal work at such a late age, but I have wondered why it never occurred to me before. I think it’s because of my upbringing; we didn’t know this life existed. My first year on the slopes was really tough. I had horrible working hours, a difficult supervisor and little time to spend on my snowboard, while Irina had the time of her life. The following year the roles were reversed. Irina felt fed up with seasonal work and quit.
Nowadays she only comes to visit occasionally. We’ve had a lot of arguments about this and it’s not easy, because I can see myself building a life here. I dreamed of starting a company together, in the mountains or on the beach, but her future is back in Belgium. I don’t know what that means for our future as partners. Fortunately I have a girlfriend who has been on a winter season and knows what it means to me. I’m sure we’ll work it out together in the end.”
**COVID-19 UPDATE:
After being forced to leave their house and job within 48 hours I called up some saisonniers to see how they were doing. Most of them fled the village immediately, although a small core decided to sit out a quarantine of at least two weeks. These anciens in particular were not prepared to leave their winter life all of a sudden, with some not even having anywhere to go. These last days have been spent getting groceries from the last open store and preparing for an eventual outbreak of the virus. Infected people are in a strict quarantine or taken away to a village lower down. However, since the slopes are abandoned and there is barely any police control, some tourists see this as a perfect opportunity to build their own snow jump and freeride those mountains. Even though this is strictly forbidden, the unclear communication of the village itself causes people to ignore the rules and troop together for house parties or outside on the slopes. Today’s Val Thorens looks nothing like it usually would during March, and although saisonniers tend to be flexible when it comes to leaving their jobs and homes: this abruptly ended season of 2020 will never be forgotten.
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“I’m originally from West Flanders but ended up moving to Ghent for my studies. In the end, I stayed there for ten years; quite a long time. I studied the former D-cursus to teach kids, lived together with my partner, and had a good job in education. But the picture shown to the outside world wasn’t real. I was in a toxic relationship where there was no room to fulfil my dreams. After a lot of fights, I gave up. I quit my job, left my ex in the house that I loved, registered my address back with my mom, traded in my permanent home for a backpack and left for Cambodia. With the money I had saved from working extra hours in the coffee bar, I could finally leave. Making a long journey on my own had always been a dream of mine, but I didn’t want to abandon my relationship. I also didn’t want to leave my house because I was the one who found it and absolutely loved it.
In retrospect, that house turned out to be the obstacle that prevented me from experiencing the true freedom I had always pictured in my head. I was so afraid of taking a step back from the social perspective that I put my own dreams aside. No one, not even me, knew how long I would stay in Cambodia. I had the time of my life there, but I missed my family. After ten months I returned for one of my godchildren’s birthdays. I arranged my return in secret and suddenly I was on the doorstep of my mother’s house, ringing the bell. My sister in law opened the door and when my mum heard my voice in the background she almost collapsed of a heart attack when she saw me with my suitcase. At first I found it very difficult to live with my mother again. It felt like a big step back and I was afraid that I’d have to give up much of my freedom out of respect for her. However, it finally gave me the chance to grow closer to her and now my mom knows me better than anyone.
I had already gained some experience with seasonal work in Empuria Brava, and after being back home for a month the travel bug started to itch, so I left again. This time to Mimizan with Flowtrip, a tour operator that organises surf and sports camps for young people. I was appointed as a supervisor and soon realised that I really enjoy working with young people. I met a close team that worked together as a family. That family aspect attracted me so much; I needed more of that. I wanted to learn more life lessons like I had done a couple of years before.
At 23 I left for South America with two girlfriends. At a certain moment, my bank card no longer worked. A quick money transfer from Belgium wasn’t an option, as the bank was closed due to a public holiday. Because we had a fixed itinerary and my two friends couldn’t lend me any money, I ended up alone in Pas la Pas, near Santa Cruz. There I was, a young girl, without money or a cell phone. At first I was very angry, but soon I realised that my girlfriends were only responsible for their own actions and I was for mine. I didn’t have a mobile phone and calling from an internet cafe was not an option as when it was day in Belgium it was night in South America and vice versa. So at night I secretly used the computer at the reception of the hostel I was staying in and after trying out many ATMs I finally got some money from the wall. That situation changed everything for me. I learned at a young age that when I run into a problem, I can’t expect others to solve it for me. I met those two girlfriends later during the trip and eventually forgave them. Our friendship even survived them leaving me behind, which I am very glad about. My mum and sister were extremely mad at the girls when they found out that they had left me on my own. From their perspective travelling together means coming home together too. That trip taught me a lot. It helped me overcome my fear of being alone and made me realise that you are always dependent on yourself.
When I was working in Mimizan they indicated they were looking for someone to work in the mountains and I didn’t hesitate for a moment. And here I am. In my third season as a saisonnier in Val Thorens. This year I’m working in a hotel, but it changes every time. I keep coming back because I’ve come to know everyone. When you walk outside, everyone greets each other, which isn’t the case in Belgium. That warm feeling and meeting a friend in the snow remains special. When I’m in the mountains I have little contact with friends from Flanders. I’ve never had a large group of friends and I am a character initiator. I believe that your life consists of different phases, during which you surround yourself with different people. Every phase is of a temporary nature, so often contacts are too. You can’t keep in touch with everyone and that’s okay. It may sound harsh, but if I want to be in contact with everyone on a regular basis, I’d be stuck on my mobile 24/7.
My mum sometimes asks me when I’ll ever lead a stable life, but I can’t answer that question. I don’t know how long I will continue doing this; every time I leave for the season I ask myself the same thing. Sometimes I’m tired and think about what I am doing and wonder what’s happening in Belgium, what I’m missing out on. But working as a saisonnier can last for the rest of your life, even if you want to start a family. Nothing prevents you from combining the things that make you happy with the lifestyle you want to lead. My ultimate dream is to create my own project and live for it fully while travelling constantly.
I advise everyone to work as a saisonnier once in your life. It opens your eyes and forces you to think about what you really want in life. That doesn’t mean that everyone is suited to it. You have to be able to be away from home for a long time, master several languages and be an open person who wants to learn. Travelling has taught me that not everyone you meet is of good will, it certainly sharpens your knowledge of people. The fact that someone at home, in my case my mom and family, lets you go and supports you, gives a solid foundation and the necessary sense of security. Having someone who believes in you is a must if you are alone for a long time.
Sometimes I am firmly convinced that I want children, such as recently when I held a colleague’s baby in my arms, but I realise that these moments are snapshots and I actually don’t know for sure yet. And that’s just fine. So many people never consider what they really want out of life. 60% of 18-year-olds just choose an education after their secondary education because they feel they have to do something in society. The fear that they won’t achieve anything and their children won’t do what they expect is a motivation to do the same job day after day. When I was 21 I wanted to leave on Erasmus, but I didn’t because I had a sweetheart. During my second relationship I wanted to travel together, but it never happened. It’s taught me that everyone must decide for themselves what they want to do. You can’t place the responsibility for choices made with someone else; you are the only one who has to live with them. If you don’t want certain situations to come back in your life, you must dig deep and explore your behavioural patterns so that your events also change.”
**COVID-19 UPDATE:
After being forced to leave their house and job within 48 hours I called up some saisonniers to see how they were doing. Most of them fled the village immediately, although a small core decided to sit out a quarantine of at least two weeks. These anciens in particular were not prepared to leave their winter life all of a sudden, with some not even having anywhere to go. These last days have been spent getting groceries from the last open store and preparing for an eventual outbreak of the virus. Infected people are in a strict quarantine or taken away to a village lower down. However, since the slopes are abandoned and there is barely any police control, some tourists see this as a perfect opportunity to build their own snow jump and freeride those mountains. Even though this is strictly forbidden, the unclear communication of the village itself causes people to ignore the rules and troop together for house parties or outside on the slopes. Today’s Val Thorens looks nothing like it usually would during March, and although saisonniers tend to be flexible when it comes to leaving their jobs and homes: this abruptly ended season of 2020 will never be forgotten.
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“As a ski man in Val Thorens I rent out equipment for skiing and snowboarding, repair and fix broken or damaged skies and sell equipment. I started here last year as a ski man but am interested in boot fitting and am trying to learn all about it.
Following my studies in Normandy, where I grew up in a small village, I was offered an internship in Paris. A whole new world opened up to me. For the first time in my life I was forced to get to know new people and challenge myself in all kinds of areas. As an introverted person, it was not easy to just start a new life in a big city where I knew few people. Yet it was my first step towards change.
I come from a family where everything can be discussed, however, I don’t have a particularly sentimental relationship with them. As a child I was very attached to my mother, although that bond has become less strong following my parents’ divorce. I don’t know why our relationship has changed, nowadays we call each other once a month. My mother finds me being so far away from home difficult, while my father fully supports it and encourages me to explore the world. Occasionally I miss my friends, but it’s of a temporary nature and usually doesn’t last long. Building or maintaining a relationship with a partner is almost impossible if you don’t have that same seasonal worker rhythm; you’re better off staying single.
I stayed on in Paris following my internship. I had a job in design, often working fifty hours a week, for five and a half years. I enjoyed my job, but eventually grew bored of the long hours and big city lifestyle. I started thinking about leaving; work, Paris… I wanted to experience the world with my own eyes. Six months later I left everything and everyone behind. I spent two years travelling the world and for the first time in my life I truly got to know myself.
I fell in love with travelling because you quickly get to know new cultures and people. Everything is possible and nothing is promised. I really had to learn to let go in terms of plans, because that used to be my life. I was always busy with myself and thought that the plan in my head should always be executed exactly the same. When you travel, things often pan out differently than you have in mind and you learn to let the present follow its own path. When you travel, you book results every day that are immediately visible. For me, travel is the answer to everything.
I got to know Marcal while I was diving the Perhentian Islands during my trip to Malaysia. He told me about his life in the mountains and what it’s like working the winter season. Intrigued by his stories, I took my chance. This is my second season in Val Thorens. As a team we all have the same goal and mindset: providing customers with the best possible skiing experience. I wouldn’t have been as keen to come back if my colleagues hadn’t been this great. I also have opportunities to grow within the boot-fitting segment, something that interests me immensely. I don’t think you can do this job for the rest of your life; you should invest your money in a business. This work is much too tiring to have to work for someone else for the rest of your life. You’re better off becoming your own boss here, success guaranteed!”
**COVID-19 UPDATE:
After being forced to leave their house and job within 48 hours I called up some saisonniers to see how they were doing. Most of them fled the village immediately, although a small core decided to sit out a quarantine of at least two weeks. These anciens in particular were not prepared to leave their winter life all of a sudden, with some not even having anywhere to go. These last days have been spent getting groceries from the last open store and preparing for an eventual outbreak of the virus. Infected people are in a strict quarantine or taken away to a village lower down. However, since the slopes are abandoned and there is barely any police control, some tourists see this as a perfect opportunity to build their own snow jump and freeride those mountains. Even though this is strictly forbidden, the unclear communication of the village itself causes people to ignore the rules and troop together for house parties or outside on the slopes. Today’s Val Thorens looks nothing like it usually would during March, and although saisonniers tend to be flexible when it comes to leaving their jobs and homes: this abruptly ended season of 2020 will never be forgotten.
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“Ten years ago was my first time as a saissonier in La Plagne, another ski resort located 50 km from Val Thorens. I had been there a week earlier on vacation with my ex-girlfriend. On impulse, I decided to go back for the season. Life in the Alps appealed to me, and as I was used to living everywhere and nowhere, I thought it would be ideal to come and work here for a few months. I worked in La Plagne for five seasons and then left for America. Following that adventure I returned to Europe and have now been in Val Thorens for three seasons.
As a child I bored easily. I stopped going to school full-time aged 15 as I wanted to know what work did to someone. I chose to take part-time lessons and work a lot. The first two weeks were spent working in a restaurant, but I quickly discovered it wasn’t for me. I also discovered working with horses does and kept that up for 1,5 years. When I turned 17, I realised that I had to change things if I wanted to make something of myself. And so I went back to school and got my high school diploma in electricity. Because I am technically strong and wanted to nurture my creative spirit, I decided to go for a Bachelor in film, video and television at university.
When we graduated, one of my best friends – now known as one of Belgium’s finest pop artists – asked me if I wanted to join him on a tour of the USA. He needed a second cameraman. After those three months I returned for another season in La Plagne, as previously agreed, but then my friend asked me back for a longer tour. His executive producer had cancelled on him, so it was a huge opportunity for me. That was the start of my career in America, something I always dreamed of. I thought that if you could make it in America you would have really proven yourself. Belgium is such a small country, but if you mean something in America you have succeeded in life.
I was quickly relieved of that particular illusion. I toured around the world with him until the end of 2015, when he decided to take a break from his music. In the meantime, I had fallen in love and wanted to stay in America, but had to be able to present a valid visa. The easiest way is to go back to study, and so I did. But the hectic life in USA, the high pressure and not being able to trust a lot of people, brought about my first panic attack. Everything in America is about prestige and status. The fear that you could go from somebody to nobody in an hour caught me by the throat. On top of that my girlfriend was raped and I had to watch helplessly how our relationship, despite many sessions of therapy, went under.
I have always seen my parents struggle to make ends meet as self-employed people. They gave my sister and I everything they could afford, as well as the little free time they had. I thank that life for that. Working as a slave to society in order to survive on a tiny pension later on is inhumane. Unfortunately, that’s the system in Belgium. A capitalist state that takes away from its citizens what it can and abandons you if you can’t get it done financially, psychologically or physically.
My mom is currently suffering from cancer. Last summer I returned to Brussels to look after her and the rest of the family. My father no longer drives and my sister doesn’t have a driver’s license so if my mother has to go somewhere while I’m away, they’re dependent on others. Knowing this, leaving for the season is difficult for me. Yet I choose to work in Val Thorens because the urge for that freedom and good energy is too great. When I stay at home I am confronted with a sister who is dependent on her husband and too scared to get her driver’s license. It’s so far removed from my world, which revolves around total independence; it would make me miserable being there all the time.
All these experiences have taught me I don’t want to live that kind of life. It’s true what they say: seasonal work is fleeing from reality but I’m perfectly okay with that. When I think about leading an average life in Belgium, with a house, garden and child, I feel like I’m locked up. A golden cage is still a cage. I know myself through and through and spend a lot of time alone, so I know what I want and especially what I don’t want. I grew up in a family where there was not much talk about deep emotions and I never felt the need to, even though I can talk very openly about what I feel.
When friends of mine in Val Thorens first asked me to come and work here, it was an easy choice. You might not know anyone at the start of your first season but by the end of season two or three you have become a close-knit family. Tourists think that we’re constantly partying here, but if you want to maintain this life for seven months, your body will soon enough tell you it’s not possible. Of course we have the occasional party, but being a saissonier is mainly about performing many hours and earning little money.
Because you live together, work together and spend free time with your colleagues, you quickly get to know each other. A collegial relationship quickly develops into friendship. It sometimes makes it difficult to find balance. Everyone here brings their own story and when things are tough you have to rely on your colleagues to talk about it. And no, not everyone can be trusted here because ultimately everyone is here for their own reasons. Some colleagues will try to use your confidence to lift themselves up. Seasonal work is wonderful because you share a unique experience with each other and you get opportunities others might not, but there is a downside.”
**COVID-19 UPDATE:
After being forced to leave their house and job within 48 hours I called up some saisonniers to see how they were doing. Most of them fled the village immediately, although a small core decided to sit out a quarantine of at least two weeks. These anciens in particular were not prepared to leave their winter life all of a sudden, with some not even having anywhere to go. These last days have been spent getting groceries from the last open store and preparing for an eventual outbreak of the virus. Infected people are in a strict quarantine or taken away to a village lower down. However, since the slopes are abandoned and there is barely any police control, some tourists see this as a perfect opportunity to build their own snow jump and freeride those mountains. Even though this is strictly forbidden, the unclear communication of the village itself causes people to ignore the rules and troop together for house parties or outside on the slopes. Today’s Val Thorens looks nothing like it usually would during March, and although saisonniers tend to be flexible when it comes to leaving their jobs and homes: this abruptly ended season of 2020 will never be forgotten.
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A day after arriving to the village in the middle of the night I meet Nina, a 18-year old girl who spent last year’s winter season in Val Thorens as a ski woman. A ski woman ensures that your skis get to you in perfect condition and takes care of the sale and maintenance of all kinds of equipment during the winter season.
“I first came to Val Thorens as a toddler. My mom and dad both worked here as saisonniers. They took their kids everywhere with them; I think my parents were seen as pretty open minded back then. They met when she was 14 and he was 24. The age difference didn’t bother them at all. My mom was a free-spirited woman and when she turned 17 she wanted to study abroad. When my mom decided she would relocate to study photography, my father gave up the shop he owned in Hossegor, where he sold skate & snowboard gear and followed my mom, who is originally from Biarritz, to Courchevel. He was scared that if he let her go, he would never see her again.”
“They both worked in Courchevel for three seasons, in between renovating a house in Biarritz. They continued this lifestyle even following the birth of my sister and I. Winters in Courchevel flew by and while my sister started doing competitions, I was born. After a while my sister’s competitions started taking her beyond Courchevel. That’s how our family ended up coming to Val Thorens for the first time. We liked it a lot so we kept on coming back and my parents knew everyone who lived here.”
“Sadly enough the relationship between my parents didn’t last. My mum secretly met other guys, something the whole town gossiped about it. They fought a lot and haven’t seen each other since the day they broke up. I still don’t know how my sister really feels about it all, we’ve never spoken about it. I left school at 16 because I didn’t see the point in studying for a diploma. I believed, and still believe, you can become anything you want in life, providing you work hard for it. Two years ago I left for New Zealand and, inspired by my dad, I got my certificate as a lifeguard.”
“After coming back, I had no idea what to do with my life and so I applied for a job in Val Thorens during winter season. Since one of the shop owners’ is my dad’s best friend that wasn’t so hard. I stayed the whole season and loved every bit of it. The people of Val Thorens feel like family now and that’s why I came back this year just for a holiday, to spend time with the family I’ve built here. In 20 days I will leave to New Zealand and see what the future brings. Maybe I’ll return, maybe I won’t, but that non-settled life is the freedom I seek.”
**COVID-19 UPDATE:
After being forced by President Macron’s non-negotiable decision to to leave their house and job within 48 hours I called up some saisonniers to see how they were doing. Most of them fled the village immediately, although a small core decided to sit out a quarantine of at least two weeks. These anciens in particular were not prepared to leave their winter life all of a sudden, with some not even having anywhere to go. These last days have been spent getting groceries from the last open store and preparing for an eventual outbreak of the virus. Infected people are in a strict quarantine or taken away to a village lower down. However, since the slopes are abandoned and there is barely any police control, some tourists see this as a perfect opportunity to build their own snow jump and freeride those mountains. Even though this is strictly forbidden, the unclear communication of the village itself causes people to ignore the rules and troop together for house parties or outside on the slopes. Today’s Val Thorens looks nothing like it usually would during March, and although saisonniers tend to be flexible when it comes to leaving their jobs and homes: this abruptly ended season of 2020 will never be forgotten.
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