Whales and Harbors

When I returned to Paris from Taize– just for one day, before I set off again to the south–M and I discussed young people and old people.

He explained what a priest had once told him. That young people are like whales in the ocean. They move a lot of water. You can hear their cries from miles away. They are an enormous presence, they cross oceans, they move in groups. They are entire ecosystems unto themselves. (I don't know if the priest said that last part but I think it's true.)

But whales, for all their motion, need harbors. Places they can come back to, that don't move. Safe places. M said, older people can be like harbors for young people.

Whales and harbors.

After turning around in Paris, I spent three days this week in Dordogne visiting M and B, friends of my parents. They live in a hamlet, a small group of houses in the middle of French countryside. The region (and most of France I think) is organized by small villages each about a day's walk from each other.

Every village has a church, a town hall, some have small schools.

The region is covered in forest and agriculture. There are layers and layers of history to be found– prehistoric caves next to 16th century churches built on medieval ruins, etc. The churches are amazing, each one beautiful and different in its own way.

M and B got a kick out of showing me around their favorite places, and I was very happy to be shown. They keep a garden, flowers and fruit trees. Each breakfast we had B's freshly made jam with fig bread and coffee. A homegrown and homemade kind of place.

Then back to Paris for my last three nights. I have been lucky that two good friends from home are also here, so it has been wonderful to connect with them and enjoy the city. We mostly wandered by foot and stopped to eat as often as we could justify.

And of course, I spent time with the lovely M and V and their daughters, being comfortable in their home, laughing at everything and anything. Their way of speaking to each other reminds me of a sitcom. (It helps that I don't understand French.)

As M drove me to the airport this morning before 5am, I shared my realization with him that he is a harbor for a lot of people, not just his own daughters. Yes, he said, for priests and artists and Spitzes too.

So I said, eeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooouuuuuaaaaaeeeeeoooooaoaaaaaeeeeeoooooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh!

Which is whale-speak for "thank you."

With my Work (in Kenya) and Staying With Friends (in Uganda and France) chapters now complete, I am now entering the Purely Tourist chapter. This enormous fish has just arrived in Ireland.

To you and yours, friends– the time is going to fly, and soon we will see each other again!