Friends, Furloughs, Finish and Farewells

June is an ‘F’ sort of month as an ex-pat. It is the month when you farewell your friends who are going on furlough or finishing in the field.

Although I am a Southern Hemisphere person and we work in that same half of the globe, most of my colleagues are Northern Hemispherites and our school runs to that schedule. This means that June is the end of the school year and the end point of many people’s field terms. From graduation onwards, there is an annual exodus as people return to their passport countries. Some intend on only being away a few months or a few years. Others are finishing their time in the field, packing up their life here and returning to a country they may no longer feel much belonging to, to start a new life there.

Leaving or staying, we spend our time saying goodbye. Often we do not know if or when we will ever meet again on earth. Friends scatter all over the globe, and as much as we would love to visit each other, we are realistic about the limitations of time and budgets. We intend to keep in touch, but are maybe more hopeful than realistic about that.

We look around us at church as the pews thin out and week by week the list of farewells is announced. We carry hankies as tears are never far away. Out at the airstrip they call it ‘cry week’.

The pews will fill again, as last year’s furlough takers return and new faces arrive. It can be hard to give a good welcome to the new people when the wounds of farewells are raw. Do I really bother to get to know this person? Either they or I will be leaving soon enough…

Reasons for going finish are many and varied. Children’s schooling or elderly parents are common reasons. Retirement is a reason to celebrate as it usually means the end of a long and fruitful career in this country. Illness and conflict and also reasons for leaving, reasons which add an extra layer to the grief of farewells.

This year I’ll be in the village much of June, missing the official farewell afternoon teas. A friend has called these ‘missionary wakes’, as people gather for small talk, encouraging comments and a sad hug. I’ll be returning to Ukarumpa on the back load of a cry week exodus flight. There are four flights from Ukarumpa to the capital city that day and it is a day there are usually no flights to the capital. Four full flights down and only about four people flying back in. I’ve said my farewells pre-village, starting the tears of June in April, knowing I will return to what feels like a ghost town.

Farewell my friends and thank you for sharing this season of your life with me. It is my prayer that as you go you will know that you are loved here, and that you will find people to love and be loved by in the next place. May we each have the grace to keep opening our hearts to the people around us, even though there is another farewell somewhere down the road. May the joy we share in the meantime make the tears worthwhile in the end.