Intercultural Relations Repaired

Seldom before in my life have I experienced how from the depths of despair, life can suddenly turn around into pure joy and pleasure and fresh experiences completely wiping away all bad memories that have gone before.

The mayor of Florange and our daughter (in white) laying a wreath in France on Remembrance Day 2009

An ordinary November week started with A., the French exchange pupil we hosted in September, writing to our daughter, saying she would refuse to have anything to do with our daughter Rose once she came to France. It was only days before Rose had to go and stay with this family. The visit was part of a regional Schumann exchange organised by the Education Departments in the four bordering countries and is meant to foster inter-regional understanding.

We were aghast by the turn of events. Even more hurtful was watching the toll it took on our daughter. Both we and her French teacher kept on telling her, not all French are like that. So while all her close friends were packing for France, my daughter (and I) had sleepless nights and teary evenings.

My husband had the task of informing the German and French authorities and we were resigned to her staying here. Then suddenly out of the blue, two days after the bad news, we got an unexpected email from the German teacher at the French school in Florange. She had read my husband’s correspondence with the authorities, read my blogs and the rude email of one of her pupils. She was totally dismayed. Beyond the call of duty, she then offered to find Rose another family. This was now Thursday afternoon. And from there on things moved at breakneck speed.

When by Friday afternoon that did not work out, she offered to put her up herself. Events were changing rapidly. Friday morning Rose had still told her teachers she would probably see them on Monday. Saturday, we rushed to town to do last-minute shopping - winter boots, a new jacket. When we got back there was a welcoming email with pictures waiting from the teacher’s ten-year old daughter describing the family members, their house and their pets.

On a sunny autumn Sunday afternoon, we drove the 85 kilometres to Florange, passing through Luxembourg. Three countries in less than an hour. After the drama of the last week, we were all feeling upbeat.

Walking into their welcoming home we knew instinctively this was going to work out. Over home-made apple cake we spent some time with this lovely family. We were given her French timetable, asked what she ate. That evening my husband and I drove back to Germany with not a worry in the world.

Tuesday Rose called to say she would probably move to another family on Wednesday where there were two girls her age, but that she could always move back to Madame. We then got an email from Madame saying how wonderfully Rose had fitted into her family but that she also did not sleep the night before moving her to another family. She was having second thoughts, asking herself if the move was right for our daughter. So much care and love moved me to tears. But we did not have to worry.

On her first day in the new family, she phoned to say that at the 11 November remembrance ceremony on the local cemetery, a public holiday in France, she was asked to lay the wreath with a French girl. I told her that Chancellor Angela Merkel on that day became the first German Chancellor to be at a Remembrance Day ceremony in Paris. Merkel laid a wreath with President Sarkozy at the Arc d’Triomphe.

A few evenings later, my daughter phoned out of breath “I have no time to talk. I am so lucky, I am happy, France is great.” And she put the phone down again. What more does a mother want to hear?

After 13 days we drove to fetch her from the French family we have never met. We were met by a smiling, happy daughter, conversing in French with the other girls. Their granny and aunt had come to join us for coffee and cakes and to say goodbye to our daughter. This was final proof of how completely she had been integrated into the family.

Their Daddy came home and there was more laughter. Then Monsieur announced that they had invited our daughter to go along on their summer holiday to Brittany. We in turn invited their girls to come and stay with us during the Christmas holidays.

As we drove away Rose rolled down the car window and shouted "Salut", like a real French girl to her friends who were running alongside the car. She dared her German father to hoot (unheard of in Germany). He did; but without the gusto of a South African or French HOOOOT

We drove on to the teacher’s house to thank her too. They repeated our daughter can come over any time she wishes to visit them.

We are in for a busy Advent. We will be showing both families around Trier and our wonderful Christmas market. My daughter has her address book filled with French pupils wanting to visit her. One French father wanted advice on buying DIY in Trier. As my husband said quite pleased with himself, as we drove back that evening, “It looks like we are going to become the place to stay and the place to get advise about Trier, for the French from Lorraine”

Driving back through three countries again, our daughter was bubbling and could not stop talking about life in France, her experiences at school and on outings, while mixing some French into her German and English. She was definitely going to live there one day, she warned us!

In one week in early November, our lives went from absolute horror, depression and tears into the most touching experience, we never in all our dreams envisaged! Thank you Madame K. Thank you Famille C!! Merci! Vive la France!

(c) Anli Serfontein, 2009