Friends

 

You have asked so many times about our friends here, perhaps you are wondering what it is like to be 12 hours away from the web of relationships we developed over 40 years in Seattle. To cut to the core, and answer the question under the question, no, we have not been lonely.

Most important, we have a strong relationship with each other which has been nourished by this time outside of an English speaking country. There was the possibility that it might go the other way, so it is relief to see how we have grown as individuals and as a couple. Unlike most of the students here, we each came equipped with a good friend with whom to share meals, outings and feelings.

Both this year and last, we have found that the easiest way to meet new people has been language exchange. For example, Claude, a retired university professor from the University of Montpellier Medical School and Martine, a retired teacher of English at a Friday evening language exchange held at the Book n Bar, an English book store. As you remember from the section entitled Dinners Part II, Martine invited us into her home for a four hour five course French lunch carefully prepared by her own hands from beginning to end. They also drove us to Petzenas for the day, stopping first at Claude's mother-in-law's mas, a farmhouse built in around a square with separate living accommodations for the workers. Then we spent the day in Petzenas where we had this lovely lamb dinner and desserts that looked like entrees. My dessert:

 

In addition to our friends in the community, we made friends at school. My best friend the second semester was outgoing Anna, a 26 year old Catalan lawyer, the first on the left above. She is standing next to shy Claire from Scotland, and, last on the right, smiling Ratatana from Cambodia.

Omar, our landlord, was one of the Spanish team of architects who participated in the 20 year building the Antigone, a mixed community that is 1/3 social housing. You already met Gill, our laughing landlady who picked us up at the train station (With a little help from our friends) when we first got here and biked with us on the Canal du Midi. Gill and Omar in Cambodia:

Servas Christina and Marie Laure, our Servas friends, both work for the government. In France, civil service jobs have the highest level of prestige, in large part because the benefits, including the best pensions. They took us on a picnic and a walk this Sunday afternoon.

Marie Laure and her son Tom joined Maryse, our former French teacher from Uzes, for a four hour five course French lunch at our home. Tom's sense of fun kept everyone relaxed and prevented us from taking ourselves too seriously as we parted ways at the door.

Some of our friends in France live outside of Montpellier, in Uzes, like Maryse and in Nimes like Claude. Claude started Women in Black in NImes and invited us to a double feature last Sunday. Gordon, her husband, has constructed a theater in the space that used to be their garage. During the the half hour intermission, the eight of us shared light refreshments in the anti room of the theater.

Then there were our 8 friends who visited from overseas, all from Bainbridge Island. Our “adopted Bainbridge Island daughter” Annie Strickland came with her daughter for a short visit in Montpellier as part of their two week tour of Paris and Provence.

Abra's web site French Letters: Food, Wine and France shows why she thinks she has found a publisher interested in having her write a book on the process of producing French wine.

Our French teacher in Uzes, Maryse, served Abra and Sheldon as well as Bob and I the traditional five course lunch and spoke French with us the entire time. Abra, also Maryse's student, now speaks excellent French in part because during her first 18 months she refused contact with anyone who spoke English, including me.

Then there are the friends with whom we haven't spent much time, but who nourish our lives here For example, there is Laure, an Italian friend from Tunisia who I met through Onvasortir, and the 20 or so activists of Americans for Peace and Justice. (Unfortunately they speak English at these evenings so in spite of spending three wonderful evenings with them, we won't be spending much time here until our French allows us into French society.)

Is Agnes , the maternelle school teacher a friend even though we haven't met for coffee since December? The prune man?

The postman who whistled continuously up and down the block as he delivered mail? My two university teachers who want to get together for coffee now that I am no longer officially a student? Then there is Said, the Algerian who quit school at 14, understands more about politics than any five of us put together and is getting his first play published at 37? And Patricia, the dancer-turned-legal secretary-who gave us two lovely Hebron dishes for Christmas. Their images I carry home in my heart.

These friends are family. We all have three families: our birth family, our survival family and our creative family. These French friends are all part of our creative family. Their gifts have helped us to create what we wanted for ourselves this year.