On my 13th birthday I got a book from my red-diaper-baby Republican mother. It was "The People of Moscow" by Cartier-Bresson. It took me a year delivering newspapers to earn the money for an M2 Leica & a case of film, but I became a photographer that day, in 1957. I've had 3 or 4 careers at it, interrupted by teaching and a long stint in global public health.
I'm an American but I've been an ex-pat in my head since the first year I live out of the country, in Latin America, in the 60s. I've lived in France for 10 about years. Last summer, I had a one-man-show of new work in Paris.
(see review — http://diagonaledelart.blogs.liberation.fr/2019/07/21/histoires-deaux/ )...jt