
Living in Mauritius isn't just about changing time zones — it's about changing your rhythm, your tastes, your language, and even your playlist. For expats settling on this multicultural island, diversity isn't just part of the scenery. It's an immersion, a transformation — a whole new way of life. We spoke to several of them. What they shared with us carried the flavor of a curry, the warmth of a séga, and the joy of a heartfelt “mo kontan twa.” Here's what they told us.
First culinary shock: “What is that spicy yellow thing?”
For Philippe, a sound engineer, the shock was immediate: dhol puri.
“I bit into it like it was a wrap. But inside, it was an explosion of spices, textures, and something I couldn't name — my taste buds had never encountered anything like it.”
Delphine, on the other hand, was ambushed... by a mango. “It was green, spicy, acidic, salty.” But once the initial shock wore off, their palates adapted — and eventually, even became hooked. Mines frits (friend noodles), vindaye, achards, bringelles, halim, rougail saucisse, roti, briani, bol renversé... Everyone ends up finding their “favorite dish,” the one they learn to cook with pride — and a bit of sweat.
“I can now make bol renversé like a pro,” says Julie.
“For me, it's vindaye poisson. And faratas!” adds Annabelle, a teacher in the West.
And Philippe? “All kinds of caris. I fell in like Obelix.”
Culinary fusion: Faratas + grated cheese?
Over time, a new kind of cuisine takes shape — somewhere between the pull of home and the urge to embrace local flavors. And sometimes, it leads to unexpected combinations.
Julien shares: “I regularly make samosas filled with goat cheese, mine frit with sweet soy sauce, and homemade lasagna with lentils.”
Why not? Everyone's got their own identity stew. This improvised in-between cuisine often says more about everyday cultural blending than a thousand speeches. We sprinkle familiar flavors over local staples — and in return, the island gently slips into our daily routines.
This culinary hybrid is a reflection of lived fusion: we bring a bit of ourselves into what we discover, and we let the island leave its mark on what we thought we already knew.
Musical discoveries: From séga to local obsessions
In Mauritius, music isn't just background noise — it's everywhere. On the beach, in buses, at neighborhood parties, and at massive open-air concerts. For expats, it's often one of the first cultural shocks — but a gentle one: vibrant, infectious, and full of rhythm.
Some discover séga and its iconic ravanne at a beach party — a magical moment suspended in time, with drums, warm sand, and a tropical sunset. Others are swept away by giant concerts, like Marcus Gad's, where seggae and Creole take the spotlight in songs like “lavérité,” featuring Ton Renald of Racine Seggae.
And then there are the Mauritian artists you never forget: Zenfan ti Rivière, Eric Triton, Zulu, Kaya, The Prophecy... Mauritian music isn't just something you hear — it's something you live, dance to, and feel deep in your hips.
But more than anything, it stays with you. There's always a little Creole melody playing softly somewhere in your heart.
Learning Creole: “Koze ki manier?”
Learning Creole means stepping into a world where every word carries a bit of history. An intonation. An emotion. It's not hard, but it takes listening—and humility.
Many give it a go. Philippe takes it even further: “I speak it, read it, and write it fluently. That's just wow!”
Kléane learned it at school. Delphine finds joy in her own linguistic slip-ups.
And when it comes to favorite expressions, Creole is a goldmine:
“Koze ki manier?”
One of the first you'll learn. Literally “how do you speak?” but really just a warm “how's it going?” — always with a smile.
“Ki position?”
No, not what you're thinking. It means, “What's up?”
“Tamam !!!”
A shout of joy or agreement. When everything's good, you let out a loud TAMAM! — and it feels great.
“Dan so café, pena triaz.”
A gem. Literally, “in their coffee, there's no sorting.” Meaning: take people as they are. Bittersweet, with all the floating bits. A quiet call to unfiltered acceptance.
“AǴǴǴ!”
The Swiss army knife of emotion. Fear, annoyance, surprise, pity, drama, or comedy — ayoooo! fits the moment. Delivery is everything.
“Ou kapav pa fer manze-la tro for?”
Translation: “Can you not make the food too spicy?”
A vital survival phrase for untrained taste buds. Best said before digging into any suspicious curry. Sometimes… it's too late.
“Manz pistas get cinéma”
The art of enjoying chaos without getting your hands dirty. Literally: “eat peanuts and watch a movie.” Meaning: I'm here for the drama, but just watching. Perfect for office gossip, family squabbles, or neighborhood feuds. Popcorn, Mauritian style.
“M”
One of the most common — and versatile — words in Mauritian Creole. It's not about marriage. Mari means “very,” “really,” or “awesome,” depending on the context. A delicious dish? Mari bon. It's the official amplifier of good vibes. Short, simple, effective. "Mari top"!
“Kǰ”
The Mauritian “OK.” A clean, easy way to agree or wrap things up.
“Tou di pain rasi ena so fromaz gaté”
There's someone for everyone... even if one's a bit stale and the other fully aged. A tender, ironic way to say, “There's always a match out there.”
Creole is also a rhythm, an attitude. When you start thinking in Creole, that's when you've truly unpacked your bags.
Language barrier? It's more like a bridge
None of the expats we spoke to saw language as a barrier—quite the opposite.
“Creole opened doors—smiles, conversations at street corners,” says Annabelle.
“It made me even more curious. It pushed me to reach out to others,” adds Delphine.
“I consider Mauritian Creole to be my second mother tongue,” says Philippe.
Just a few words — even imperfect ones — are often enough to break the ice… and earn you a dinner invitation.
Seeing yourself and others in a new light
Living in a place as mixed as Mauritius changes you — deeply.
“It's brought me more tolerance, more openness. I've discovered a different art of living than in Europe,” says Annabelle.
“Cultural diversity in Mauritius made me look at my own culture with more distance and curiosity. By interacting with other traditions, I realized that many of the things I considered ‘normal' are actually just cultural. It helped me understand my values better, be more tolerant, and open my mind to other ways of living, celebrating, and seeing the world,” explains Aurélie.
“I almost consider myself Mauritian now,” Philippe says with a smile.
And Lisa, with her poetic touch, puts it simply: “The world is like a moped — it only moves forward with a bit of mixture.”
Embracing the culture in your everyday life
What expats discover in Mauritius isn't some postcard version of “exoticism.” It's a living, breathing, evolving culture — found in what we eat, in what we sing, and in how we speak to one another.
Here, diversity isn't the exception. It's the norm. It slips into family recipes and into the blend of words we barely notice.
For many, the immersion leaves a lasting mark: new ways of cooking, a new language, and an openness that stays with you for life.
A way of life to be shared
Mauritius transforms you. It teaches you to slow down, to observe, to taste, and to listen. Most of all, it teaches you how to live together.
And if there's one message the expats we spoke to want to share, it's this: real richness lies in connection—in embracing differences with joyful curiosity.
So if you come across a dholl puri, a séga beat, or a hearty tamam!—don't shy away. Bite in. Dance. Respond. It might just be the beginning of a whole new way of life.