Farewell

Henry has a new playmate. Her name is Angelique and she's adorably French. They live just a few streets away. We met them in the local park . The sad thing is they're leaving to live in France with her grandparents. Angelique's mama, Audrey, is French and she's adorable too. Her Papa, Dominic, is a kiwi and a stay at home Dad. We don't only like them because they'r adorable but also because they think everything Henry does is cute even when sometimes it clearly is not. Angelique, who is only 20 months old can say many french words, in fact she probably knows more french than she does English.

We're so sad that they're leaving but at the same time so very jealous. They get to eat cheeses we can only dream about... and croissants and pastries and french wine. They'll ride Vespa's and snowski and wander through little villages and drink fine coffee as they watch the locals wander by. Today they showed me some photographs of the village they'll be living in and all it made me want to do was give them a sleep elixer and steal their identity so I could go in their place.

They've lived here for four years and decided that Angelique needed to grow up knowing her grandparents. They found it hard in this conservative part of the world to make friends. Dom and Audrey are placid, calm and interesting people but this area we live in is typically suburbia. A stark contrast to the culturally saturated villages of France. The locals here are concerned about their lawn and renovations and traffic calming and complaining to council about the smells of other people's barbeques wafting into their homes. They're friendly enough to nod their heads in greeting but that's it. They don't let you in unless you can discuss the downturn in the value of property if the council installs public toilets at the park or the value of a good private school education or when you will purchase your next Jeep. I have lived here for five years and I thought perhaps it was just me that felt this way about our neighbourhood but after talking with them I realised I wasn't alone. Dominic met another local recently who lives directly across from our closest park area and this man (who sports long grey hair and rides a Harley Davidson) refuses to go to the park anymore because he's sick of hearing complaints about the things he believes make a community just that. BBQ's and the sounds of children playing.

The neighbourhood here is very picturesque. There are lots of trees and birdlife and even plenty of snakes and that makes up for the lack of neighbourly affection but it's hard to make a life when you feel you can't connect. If you just don't care whether the neighbour mows his lawn or not or if you don't believe a good education can only come from a lifetime of working your fingers to the bone or you enjoy the smell of other people's cooking and you'd really like some public toilets in the park then I guess it's hard to fit in. I have struggled with it everyday since I've lived here but I have family and good friends close by so it's made a lot easier for me. Mind you if I was given the opportunity to go and live in France I'd do it in an instant.

We'll miss them. The upside is though that if we ever make it to France we've got somewhere to stay.