Pibrac, France, Friday November 21st

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On this last day in France, my spirits were low. All our planning had impressed on me how soon this year would be over, and that the longer we stayed in France the less time we would have in Spain and Morocco. I knew that we had to go, but I was leaving a country where I felt so much at home, and above all, where I could communicate beyond pleasantries. We were leaving good friends. We were returning to the life of the tourist. It was true that I could read quite a bit in Spanish and had studied it for a year, and that Keith could speak it at a good functional level, also that French was spoken in Morocco, so we would not be entirely relying on meeting English speakers. Nevertheless, my future goals were to learn Swahili, Turkish, Spanish and Italian and to keep working on French. The key for me was language and I wished that I had spent the years as our brother-in-law, Alan, had in learning lots of languages.
I spent the day preparing the new forms for the form five scholarships for the students in Farkwa, the village in Tanzania. I rang Joy in Australia to consult and to catch up on all the news. Freddy and Pius were going well and had plenty of new friends wanting to spend time with them. We chatted for ages on how different life was in Tanzania and Australia, and how the education systems and student attitudes were based on different premises. Joy was preparing for a fund raising barbecue, since the drop in the dollar meant that the money given for scholarships would not cover the needs of the students for next year. We talked for so long that it was a very good thing that the calls to Australia on Corine and Michel’s phone were free.
At lunch time Maёlla discussed the problem of stopping a contract for a mobile phone when you travel. Apparently the company wanted proof of employment in the new country, since people could just be having holidays which did not qualify as a reason to stop the contract. Rohan had met that problem when he travelled, with us inheriting his contract and then passing it on to Aidan when we left as well. When Maёlla left, we knew that we would see her in Australia, and that gave us a good sense of continuity with this lovely family that we had met by chance in Turkey. We wished her well for her adventures.
Eventually we had finished the scholarship forms, printed them out and were ready to post them. It was so late that Corine drove us to the post office, and we asked to be dropped off to walk back. We wanted to buy a book for Michel and Corine, not that there was a need to give a gift, but we wanted to express how much we had valued their hospitality and their friendship, and our hope that our relationship would continue. I also wanted to be out and about in the fresh air, to say goodbye to this village and the little road, part of the Chemin de St Jacques de Compostelle, that led into the nearby woods.
We packed everything. It did not take so long with no decisions to be made and a few items already disposed of. We wanted to enjoy our last evening with Corine and Michel with no pressures at all. The bus would leave at one minute to midnight, so we were a little like Cinderella at the ball, and intended to make the most of our time.
I was keen to see photos of Corine with long plaits, and once we started looking at old photos, I didn’t want to stop. Corine and Michel had met through their participation in chorales, and are now members of the chorale in Pibrac.
We had a delicious meal of pumpkin soup, baked croissants with cheese filling, cheeses, and lemon pie. After dinner we watched a dvd of the Eurojam scout jamboree that Michel had taken Timothy and the other Pibrac scouts to in England. We also watched a little of some dvds that showed Corine and Michel singing, while we ate roasted chestnuts in front of the fire. It was a relaxing and interesting last evening, with always the knowledge that it was the end of this stay. We wanted very much to come back one day, and hoped that Michel and Corine would come to Australia. Having met in another country, there was no reason that that could not happen again. We would keep in touch.
It was raining when we arrived at the bus stop, and very cold, and the indoor waiting area was closed. The bus was late, but Michel and Corine waited until we were in and seated, making it a very late and cold night for them. We waved and we were off, through the night on freeways that sped us towards Spain. There was no view out of the windows to mull over and savour as our last taste of France, and so eventually, tired and feeling flat, we both fell asleep.