Just typing

 Yesterday a message that Matilda, had caught the train to London to start her university course and my heart sank.  On the surface we know that children and young people are not as badly affected by the virus as many of us but what if?  Plus of course the carefree nature of starting out alone in mixed company has to be put on hold - will she manage?

Well it bought back memories of all the language students that passed through my household, the ups and downs, the mishaps, and the funny.

Lets start with my Brazilian policeman, who unexpectedly showed up with his girl friend.  I picked them up from the car park and as we drove through Bath, I stopped at the traffic lights. He was incredulous - you mean people in England stop at the traffic lights - yes of course, unless they want to go to gaol I replied.

I sorted out the attic which had a futon as a bed, and everything was fine, then that same evening they went to the pub way out in the countryside taken by his tutor.  And then it happened, a series of events that led to a few giggles.  Stupid lad threw his wallet and coat on the table at the pub, resulting of course in theft of said wallet.  He came back with girl friend, tears not far away, everything was in that wallet, from passport, licence, money even the key to the suitcase.  

We had to open his suitcase he was panicking but at that late hour there was no one around, so he went down to the basement to try and saw the  lock.  Complete failure.  Next morning, a phone call from Bell Language School, a mother and child walking along a lane to school had found the wallet tossed into the hedgerow, she worked at a local solicitor so could we go and pick it up, which girl friend and Tom in his push chair duly did and calm was restored. The only thing missing was the English money.

There was another girl from Brazil, the Brazilian students seemed to come from a very hot climate to a very wintry English January, and so it was with this daughter of one of the dignitaries of FIFA (I think).  She came through the front door and immediately burst into tears.  Luckily she had a friend with her and I made tea for all of us and then the phone rang, it was her mother anticipating the breakdown. By the next weekend she had completely settled in and was off partying in London, with me clucking around like an anxious mother hen.

Being in charge of young females in a foreign country, can be difficult but it is also true of the boys as well.  The young Arabian lad who came straight from boarding school in England, with  black bags of clothes had hardly ever seen his obviously rich parents, from school to language school and then afterwards to an university in America this was his life.  He was like a child, his room always strewn with a vast amount of clothes as he tried on different things before going out.  He wanted to stay on after his stint at the Language school had finished after two months but I was near to breakdown and he had to move on.

The student from Turkey, off to study textile in Manchester, was one of my favourites.  He wanted to try spinning but we were not allowed to look.  He had a darling sister who would phone up and then say 'goodbye' as a greeting, no matter how many times I said it was hello at the beginning and goodbye at the end it never penetrated.

There were others, I think I saw near on 200 students over the years, it brought the world into my home and I learnt that all these people from other countries were so polite and lovely.