Sanctuary

Everyone should have one. You know, a place to go and spend some time alone or if you must with people you will never tire off. Mine has become my parents’ fermette in the French countryside. After working and spending the weekend with colleagues as well, I think it was a very good idea to come here. All right, I am on my own here, no one to talk to, to laugh with but no one to get on my nerves either. It is not that I want to spend my time complaining, but whenever I spend a lot of time with my compatriots I feel different.

Compared to other seasonal employees and interns, I am by far the eldest. Difference with them varies from two to nine years. Especially the latter is a huge difference and it feels that way too. I felt that way when starting university a couple of years ago when I was surrounded by people just leaving home and now I feel the same. For a couple it is apparently not easy living on their own in the sense that everything seems to have been easy for them. Never met any real obstructions in their life and now that they have to take care of things themselves they spend a lot of time complaining. About everything. They also spend a lot of time ventilating a rather strong opinion. Also about everything. To say I am uncomfortable with that is an understatement.

Then there is a few that is even younger not by age but by behaviour. Still stuck in puberty and thinking they know everything whereas they do not have a clue. One of them thinks she might be pregnant at 17. This does not prevent her from obviously flirting with one of the interns, desperation dripping off. I have decided it best not to say much about it because I find it so wrong I can hardly watch it. A number of the female interns turn out to spend a lot of their time gossiping about others which is hardly surprising with a disproportionate number of women together. One of my colleagues kindly directed me to one of them if I wanted to find out what is being said about me. I told her I am not in the least bit interested in hearing what people that do not know me at all think about me, whilst internally laughing at the relative naivety of sharing this information with me.

Luckily there are not only girls and once again I have to conclude that I get along much better with men. If they don’t like you, they just don’t talk to you or say it out loud. No gossiping behind your back as soon as you’re out of ear-shot, no female envy, no big opinions about your behaviour and/or looks. They tease you though, but I can put up with that. And some like talking about themselves. A lot. Still, annoying as that can be, I prefer it to having the creepy feeling that whatever I do or say is disapproved of and that I am merely tolerated rather than liked.

Constantly feeling different and watched does get on ones nerves though and after spending twelve days with the same people it is time to spend some time alone. Not having to behave, not having to be friendly and flexible, not having to ignore minor nuisances. Whenever you feel like that, there should be a sanctuary. A far-away or a close-by place to go to. To be safe at. To be alone at.