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When he did that there were tears his eyes and I was deeply touched. He clearly did not want to go. I made no comment and kept silent. For more than anyone else I understood what was going on in his mind. Because many, many years ago I was just like him and I too felt as he had felt. So I just hugged him, turned and walked away.
A week before, his two other cousins, both of them younger than him, also left town after spending weeks in Lianga. All four of them were very close and inseparable and when Josh and Muriel left, it was also a rather emotional and reluctant departure.
How does one make the transition from almost two months of an idyllic summer vacation to the hectic, harried life of being a student in the city? Of waking up again to the shrill, rude and insistent ringing of an alarm clock rather than to the soft murmur of a household greeting the new day or the warmth of the sun on one's face as the morning sun starts peeping through your bedroom window?
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One can take a bath in the sea on a whim any time or go strolling or bicycling through town or spend time visiting neighbors. One can also play with friends in the streets and alleyways in the coolness of the morning and evening and in the shade of the houses in the heat of the day. Or one can just laze the day away in front of the TV set and not feel guilty at doing so.
Then there is having the real time to spend with your family and the people you love, time to share jokes and stories, time to reconnect and simply enjoy the pleasure of their company.
So when Mama's grandchildren do express sadness and shed more than a few tears at leaving Lianga when they have to go back to school, I do understand and sympathize with them. After all this town is their real home, where their roots are and where they will always be loved and cherished.
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I wished then as I wished now for a summer that would never end.
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