The steep street was joined to the Mégevand street by the Vieille Monnaie street. I recalled that a Vietnamese guy who was staying on the left side had cooked for me some noodles using fish sauce, and my Japanese friend Tomoko who lived on the right side had served me an appetizing salad with seaweed and a minced-beef balls soup.
I had phoned the Catholic sisters to reserve a table for lunch on Thursday. When I was a resident there, I used to get into the building through a small side door. This time, as a guest myself, I just presented the purpose of my visit to a sister who happened to be at the main entrance.
And she opened the gate to let me in.
After Madam Curty had confirmed to shift into a single-room apartment, I was in search of my own accommodation. A Chinese friend's suggestion to take over her room in the convent could not reach me at a better time.
When I told outsiders that I was staying in the convent, they automatically formed the idea that I was praying with the sisters every day. In fact, we did not have access to their prayer room from the four rooms which were rented out to students.
As I had mentioned earlier, we had our independent entrance which led to our bedrooms, two other bigger guestrooms, the guest dining room and the garden.
Not only we had no entry to the rest of the monument, we also rarely saw sisters other than Sister Brigitte, Sister Marie-Claire and Sister Jean-Marie,
who were in charge of dealing with us in terms of rental, meals, etc.
Sister Jean-Marie was the one I missed the most. She was always supportive with whatever I did.
Before we left, we went to the garden to breathe some spring air. There were plenty of roses in full blossom. I would not be able to pluck grapes hanging outside in autumm.
Next year, the sisters are going to be transfered to a new location in Ronchamp. That was probably my last meal in this beautiful place of worship.
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