I have a ticket home. It looks like Julie will be able to get back to Australia in the next couple of weeks. Even Solange might get squeezed onto a repatriation flight to Argentina, and if she doesn’t, she’ll be moving to Helsinki. We’ve been here for two months now, instead of the one month we’d planned for, and suddenly we’re running around saying things like: We need to do this…or take that picture…or walk that trail…or finish this art project…or buy gifts for friends and family…or make those fermented pickles we talked about…or sign the wall when we leave.
Life here has taken on a sort of urgency. It’s not that we think we’ll never get back here again, but we will never get back here again. It’s possible that in the future, if we really want to, we’ll be able to come back to Arteles, even if it’s only for a visit, but this experience, the three of us along with Ida and Franziska here can never be the same…and I don’t think any of us would want to be here under these circumstances again…but it’s been a special time, an unusual time, a time we’ll remember for the rest of our lives. And there’s nothing extraordinary about that because everyone in the world is experiencing something unprecedented. But I am grateful for this experience. And I’m just writing this to let you know that over the next two weeks, my posts might be mostly photographs of what’s going on here…of the “last time we…” together. So if it feels a bit self-indulgent or sentimental…well, fair warning.
Love to you all!