I have two deadlines related to job- search: one is for April 24 and the other for the end of May. Today I have checked them and started updating my CV. There are people I need to contact, to put a word for me, the sooner the better.
The other thing I did was to meet with a work associate from my hometown, to discuss our summer event; an old friend who initially asked me to join the event organization. This is great, but we are still at the beginning. We put together a list of the artists we would like to involve, including ourselves, of course. As for the funding, I need to finish writing our proposal.
We met at one of the local cafés.
As I stepped out, I run into the father of an old schoolmate who was trying to find out everything he could about my life in Paris, without asking direct questions. And I tried to stay polite without answering him. Quiet an art.
Yes, my hometown is a small place.
If you go for bread, or sit in one of the cafés, there is a big chance to be nearby someone who knows you, or your parents, … and who would like an update.
I wouldn’t exactly call it a village, but it is close.
With the advantages and disadvantages a small place has.
Globalization is important, but in the small town, there is also a different temporality.
People live a lot for and with their neighbours. There are neighbours I love: an older man, for example, who encourages my writing and has proclaimed himself my grandfather. Or the local pharmacist.
But there are also others, with daughters my age who are just curious and want to compare us and decide: Am I more or less successful? Beautiful? Rich?
What on earth am I doing in Paris? Why don’t I bring my boyfriend for inspection? What am I hiding?
I should have told them I am Spiderman’s new girlfriend. That might have calmed them down for a while.