Welcome!

I can’t explain how wonderful it feels to feel welcome in a foreign place, with foreign people. I think it’s relief – to be welcomed takes a burden off that you otherwise carry all the time. Most days everything is a struggle, a fight for survival; suddenly amongst those that care, you feel safe, you know you’re ok.

I was so worried about maintaining a balance while here with Julien and his friends. I wanted to be here, but I didn’t want to be in their way or interfere with their vacation. I wanted to get to know him and his fiancée, but I didn’t want to overwhelm them. I didn’t know how welcome I was.

We woke up early to go to the market in St. Tropez. There were six of us and the car barely fits five, but it’s a hatchback so I offered to sit in the trunk. I’ve done it before – we all took turns doing so when Julien’s sister was here with her friends. They fussed and joked and made sure I was ok, but I honestly thought nothing of it. From my perch in the trunk, I joined in with all the conversations going on in the car. They welcomed me in, translating when I couldn’t understand and laughing when I misunderstood.

We shopped together at the market. We all had a coffee when we were through, and we all took pictures of each other. We laughed so much; Fred and Julien have the same sarcastic sense of humor that I absolutely adore. It was fun. And they told me I was smart and funny.


The church bells chimed and we knew it was time to go home. Together, we began the long walk down the hill to where Julien parked the car. Each of us took turns walking with Frederique, who’s pregnant belly grows daily. (She’s due Sept. 6!) When we finally arrived at the car, I prepared to climb into the trunk.

“No, no,” Julien said, boxing me out. “Wait.”

I thought he was putting the basket in… but to my surprised, he climbed in himself.

Julien is without a doubt the tallest of us all. “Julien!” I screamed, clutching his arm. “What are you doing?!”

“You sit up front with Fred.”

“No!”

“Yes,” he laughed as he curled up to the back seat.

“I insist!”

“I insist, I will be ok.”

“But you’re so big and I’m so small!” Ok, I’m not so small, but I was getting desperate.

Fred took a break from laughing at us – and probably my poor French – to gently tug my arm. “Please sit with me.” She winked, then said in English: “You’re a lady!”

I know when to give up.

Sitting up front, with Julien curled up tightly in the trunk, I suddenly felt like a welcomed part of the group.

And it felt wonderful.