Today I had the utmost pleasure of receiving my advent
calendar, arriving in one piece from Birmingham. This not only brought joy in
that I can commence the countdown in the appropriate manner tomorrow, but was
also a comforting reminder that some things don’t have to change. If my parents
still send it by airmail, I think it’s a sign I will never outgrow the ritual. As the
festive season takes hold, I am confronted with the realisation that time has
begun to play its usual trick of sneaking stealthily by, living us blissfully
unaware of the passing of days, weeks and even months. We are not quite at
winged chariots just yet*, but Christmas seems a lot nearer than it did this
time last week. This is also heightened by the fact that in Alsace the
countdown began before December did, with decorations up and marchés in their
timber-hutted swing from last weekend.
Thus we arrive at a critical juncture, and I feel an
appropriate point to revisit an idea from back in October. My attentive readers
will remember I set myself the challenge to experience a veritable voyage by having new eyes on my situation and
experiences. And looking back, I think
I’m making progress… crises are now manageable difficulties, things I bemoaned
have become blessings, and cheesy as it sounds, there begins to be some
sunshine (if of the frosty-winter sort) behind the formally black clouds.
In particular, and in testament of Gods faithful answer to
prayer, the L word need no longer be en
majuscules. My loneliness derived
from a lack of friends, or even other humans to fulfil the basic need of
company and conversation (and a cup of tea if there is one going…). Two months
on, new eyes on my situation reveal that I am not as isolée as I first thought. I have been blessed firstly with a church
that not only provides the stability of a family that doesn’t change (even if
the teaching and songs are in another language….), but the opportunity to forge
new relationships that I could not have previously envisaged. In particular, I have had the pleasure of
getting to know some of the more ‘experienced’ members of the community. Not
quite the friends and social life I immediately would have liked, but at a
second look perhaps even more valuable. I have been shown such kindness by
people willing to talk, share meals, tell me stories about themselves, and ask
questions too. This Thursday I spent the
afternoon chez Simone et Jean Pierre, a
couple in their later years who have now three times invited me into their
home. The suggested activity was definitely
a hit with me (we baked Bredela , or les petits gateaux de noel… aka
traditional Alsatian Christmas biscuits!), which provided both welcome company
and things to do (numbers 1 and 2 on my shopping list most days). However, it was
not just recipes that I took from this baking spree. It added to a growing realisation that my time
here may not always be exciting and full of activity, but the components of a
memorable experience perhaps take a more subtle form. I am privileged to be able to simply spend
time with people I wouldn’t normally. Simone and Jean Pierre are of a different
generation, social background, nationality, culture, language… on the surface we
couldn’t be any more different. However
it is learning from, and seeing the value of, such difference that constitutes
a veritable voyage. It may not be what I was expecting, but
with fresh eyes it brings more than an answer to loneliness. I may not be having the “year abroad
experience” raved about (to me existing only in myth) but I have a feeling it
is the seemingly insignificant conversations, small acts of kindness, and an
afternoon spent baking that I will remember.
*Andrew Marvell, "To his coy mistress" ("Had we but world enough and time... /But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near") ... Reference to the evocation of the swift passage of time, in a poem i rather like, but with the knowledge that its not all that relevant to this post.
You can read the whole thing if you're keen....