Day of Mourning

Yesterday I switched the TV on as I was sleepily and grumpily getting ready for work (having lots of guests is fun but quite exhausting) and I noticed several channels were playing strange wailing music and showing a frozen screen with an old man’s face on it and today’s date. And I eventually guessed using the cunning power of reading a scrolling subtitle that the great Aimé Césaire had died that morning.

At school, Mme Trunchbull had lined all the kids up class by class in the playground when I arrived and was yelling into a microphone at them; “QU’EST-CE QUI S’EST PASSÉ AUJOURD’HUI LES ENFANTS??” as the little ones looked confused and the big ones looked at the floor. Eventually some brave (or foolish) child put his hand up and was summoned up to the microphone where he whispered; “Aimé Césaire est mort” only to be told to; “PARLE PLUS FORT!!” Then the question was re-posed several times at megadecibels until the terrified enfants shouted back in unison; “AIMÉ CÉSAIRE EST MORT” ...by which time I was quite sure my guess was correct, and also that the children were unlikely ever to forget this day as they would probably be traumatised by the playground experience for the rest of their lives.

Later on I got a message from my tutor, who I was expecting to come and observe me the following day, saying school would be closed on Friday as a mark of respect (YAY!!) and that it may not be open on Monday either depending on whether or not the funeral happened on Sunday.

I knew a tiny bit about Césaire before yesterday, but I was so happy to get the day off that I decided, as my own mark of respect, to educate myself properly about him. I might even read one of his books, you never know.

It’s been lovely having guests and doing the tourist thing again – Jennie’s still here for another week – but unfortunately it means I don’t get much time for myself or blogging. So please excuse my absence. I’ll try and get back on track when my house is calm again.