Mine well, what can I say. I started my shift by helping everyone get their lunch.
Then whilst some guests started French lessons I had taken up sets of boules and organised a boules tournament. Suffice it to say my team lost and the champions both from different countries, Afghan and Sudan were delighted with their win.
Then one of the guys needed a sim card for his phone so asked if we could go to the market in St.Antonin. Before I knew it I had a car full of boys on a jolly. We got the phone sorted with some difficulty, it was at this point I realised I had a car full of non English speaking Afghans.
The boys stood in the main street in St. Antonin opposite La Maison de Presse with hands in the air, indicating " where is everyone?" It made me laugh out loud their amazed faces.
When we arrived back at Rehoboth, they had enough skill to indicate they did not yet want to go back. With hand gestures they told me, more. So we drove to " lively Verfeil" which was dead, then dead Varen which was dead ( they did keep saying the one word they seemed to know,
beautiful, beautiful)
I asked if they wanted to see where Malc and I lived and they were delighted to come here and see photos of the family which they honed in on. Family is very important to these people.
The funniest thing of all was one of the boys had brought with him a balalaika and as we drove around he played and serenaded us with achingly haunting tunes.
I had to keep pinching myself, am I really driving around France with 3 non English speaking young Afghans, being serenaded on a balalaika?
When we got back to the centre I got profuse " thank, thank you's"
Back there I met Massimo Nebbia, Italian partner of Joanne Nebbia, he was instrumental in the instruments which have set the lads off playing. He gave me a contribution for shoes and when I thanked him, he said the most wonderful thing," No thank you Val, for getting me involved in this. Seeing their happiness is like a Christmas gift"
Then I went to chat to my lad from Sudan who was so upset yesterday. He was feeling better today and tried to explain why he cried. His father he has not seen for 5 years, the family think he has probably been killed. His brother who was 13 was certainly killed and that he knows. His Mother and sister he has not been able to contact for 7 months and he has fears for them. None of his University friends are in contact and he thinks some may be dead, others fled. He has told me twice with pride, "we were an important family, my Father an important business man was accused of being a political activist and we were stripped of everything. The men in the family were thrown into jail . Eventually I was released and managed to flee to Libya, where for a few months I was safe till the man who I was working for as a chemist assistant died or was killed and once again I was thrown into jail. I was helped to escape by my bosses daughter and dressed as a woman to get away.
I got on a boat to Italy, but when I and the people I was with arrived, we were beaten by police ("they made war on us " he said)"
He then made his way to Calais were he was for 15 days, saying "it was awful two young people from Sudan died."
He is relieved to be at Rehoboth and wants to learn French and go back to University
Well that just about sums up my afternoon and as I left Malc took over the shift.
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