Describe someone who has moved to another country

I want to talk about my best friend from school, Sujan. We grew up in the same area of Kathmandu, in Nepal, and we were together from class one until we finish high school.

About four years ago, when he was twenty-two, he moved to Melbourne in Australia. His uncle was already living there, so it was more easy for him to find a place to stay.

He moved because there are not many good jobs in Nepal, especially for young people. He wanted to study commercial cookery, and in Australia he could study and work part-time at the same time. His parents took a big loan from the bank to pay his fees, so he felt a big pressure.

His life has changed completely. In Kathmandu he never cooked even one time, because his mother made everything for him, but now he is a sous-chef in a big restaurant. He works very long hours and he shares a house with four other students. He already paid back most of the loan, and he sends money to his family every month. He is also much more confident than before, he used to be very shy. But he told me he feels lonely sometimes, especially during Dashain, which is our biggest festival, because everyone at home is celebrate together and he is working in the kitchen.

Someone I know who's moved abroad is Sujan, my best friend from school. We grew up three houses apart in Kathmandu and went right through school together, from the first year to the last.

Four years ago, when he was twenty-two, he moved to Melbourne. He had an uncle there already, which made the first few months a lot less daunting, because at least he had a sofa to sleep on and someone to explain how the trams worked.

The main reason was work. There just aren't enough decent jobs in Nepal for people our age, and a lot of our classmates have ended up in the Gulf or in Malaysia. Sujan wanted to train as a chef, and in Australia he could study commercial cookery and work part-time to cover his costs. His parents took out a sizeable loan to pay his fees, so he was under enormous pressure to make it work.

And his life has been transformed. Back home he'd never even boiled an egg, since his mum did all the cooking, yet now he's a sous-chef in a busy hotel kitchen, running a section on his own. He's paid off the most of the loan and he sends money home every month. He's also a lot more self-assured; he used to let me do all the talking, and these days he's the one cracking jokes. That said, it hasn't all been positive. He shares a cramped house with four other people, he works most weekends, and he told me Dashain is the hardest time, because he's plating up food while everyone at home is together.

I'd like to talk about Sujan, my closest friend from school. We grew up a few doors apart in Kathmandu and were more or less joined at the hip from the age of six until we finished our exams.

About four years ago, at twenty-two, he upped sticks and moved to Melbourne. He had an uncle there already, which softened the landing considerably: a sofa to sleep on, a lift to college on his first day, and someone to decode Australian slang for him.

Like so many people our age, he left for economic reasons. Decent jobs in Nepal are thin on the ground, and half our class has scattered to the Gulf, Malaysia or Japan. Sujan had his heart set on becoming a chef, and Australia offered a vocational course in commercial cookery with the right to work part-time alongside it. His parents borrowed against their land to fund it, so failure simply wasn't an option.

The change in him is quite striking. The Sujan I grew up with had never cooked anything more ambitious than instant noodles; his mother wouldn't let him near the stove. Now he's a sous-chef in a hotel kitchen that serves two hundred covers a night, and he's cleared most of the family's debt while still sending money home. He's also become far more assured; the boy who once let me do all the talking now holds court at every gathering. It's not a fairy tale, though. He shares a cramped house, he hasn't had a free weekend in months, and Dashain is always the toughest stretch: he's plating up desserts for strangers while the whole family is gathered at home without him.