How will I ever be able to hug you, Pierre Alain?

What power human connection has! How destructive human disconnection is!
She made me feel that I was where I needed to be.
Where are you, Pierre Alain? What will become of you?
I met up with my Spanish friends, one by one, and with some from afar. The Spanish friends you meet when you’re away from home are the ones you’ll only ever meet abroad. Back home, we all come from different backgrounds, but abroad, it seems we all share something in common: homesickness. Despite our differences, we’re all deeply attuned to the need for connection and belonging.
Adela travels a lot and wasn’t in Geneva, but she let me stay at her house so that I could feel her presence. I was enveloped by the scents of her plants and herbal flowers, her Ibizan salt, and her personal touches: the open windows offering views of the sea and deep blue sky, and the little hand-sewn fabric squares scattered throughout the house. We spoke every day and she and her home sheltered and supported me.
I met Adela through Jordi, my son’s teacher. He told me that if I was going to live in Geneva, it would be good for me to meet a kind person (that’s how we look out for each other when we sense a migration story). So, like someone bringing sausages from the village, I sought out Adela. She is a woman who is so, so... I don’t know what word to use, but she is so intense that you can’t help but love her. When she gets angry, it’s usually over injustices, and her fiery side comes out. On the other hand, when she connects with others, she is incredibly patient, understanding and generous. She goes through countless trials and tribulations, and despite finding herself in difficult situations, she always manages to find solutions. She is an intense spark of love.
We’ve promised to meet up soon and maybe share a little house together by the sea in Ibiza, because I’m sure there are still parts of our lives together that we shouldn't miss out on.
Yes, I saw Álvaro, who patiently endured a trip from Fribourg to Geneva involving traffic jams, a discussion at the Maison Bleu Ciel and, finally, a coffee that lasted past midnight because I chattered on and on. It had been 25 years since we last met in person, but we felt like old friends.
We met in Morocco with Rosa; we were newborn adults testing the waters of life. I was pure adventure, Álvaro was the observer, and Rosa was the shepherd tending the flock. Three different people, searching for each other and living together outside their own worlds. We talked nonstop; I challenged order, Álvaro imposed it, and Rosa maintained balance through acceptance. 
Álvaro was the last to leave Morocco, and I was second to go. I said goodbye to him with a note on a poster of Palestine. Perhaps I left with an internal battle between order and disorder, and, without Rosa’s guidance, a hug was missing. Maybe it's that missing hug that has kept us together and made us wonder: What has become of you, Álvaro, Sara and Pierre Alain?

I also got to meet Ester. Who is Ester? She’s the embodiment of unconditional friendship from back when we were a group of young scholarship students in Paris. We were a group of young people with our own crazy antics, entanglements and fears, and we learnt from one another as we grew up.
Ester knew how to shop, throw parties, cut hair and tell jokes, while I was good at making Spanish omelets. Out of all of us, she and I were the most different. We shared the same sensitivity to discrimination and were united by the same soul.
Ester and I were connected through words, playing with what we could express, and giving our word as a seal of friendship. Although we don't see each other often, we have met in Madrid, Barcelona, and Geneva several times. Our lives remain very different and it’s not easy to maintain our bond, but we’ve set aside conditions and are able to connect beyond them.
Without knowing it, Ester sensed that I was sick. In silence, she was with me — it's a silence that only she and I can hear, and we recognize it. When we break the silence, we both talk a lot about what we love and what hurts us the most at the same time, and we feel so much that we stop time and find it hard to say goodbye. Don't you agree, Ester? Time flows, and as it goes, it weaves its way along. We'll see each other again, and there are three places we could meet: Geneva, Barcelona and Madrid.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see Rosa. I’d planned to stay longer in Switzerland and stop by Zurich, but I didn’t want to disrupt my medical schedule. Since I didn’t want to miss out on the trip either, I had to skip seeing Rosa. We saw each other in Barcelona last year, but when it comes to friends, you always want to be right there with them.
I asked Álvaro, who like me hasn’t seen her in 25 years, to give her an Abracitos. Álvaro is loyal to the value of friendship and has a mission; I trust he’ll fulfil his task. Besides, he’s often wondered what has become of Rosa, and he’s eager to find out.
Rosa is becoming a more dazzling rose every day. She has always been a free spirit with her own ideals, building her own little bubble within the real world. She broke through traditional norms while respecting the values of others and ensuring her own ideals were respected. This is why she is capable of experiencing profound emotions and achieving great things. Rosa and Álvaro, will you send me a photo of your reunion with a hug?
Pierre Alain? Where are you? I only have one day left of my trip.

I met up with Omar and Nael, my two fellow scholars at the University of Geneva. Although we don't know each other so much, our paths have crossed and I wanted to catch up with them.
Omar is an outgoing, decisive and easy-going guy who is always cheerful. He has such a way with words that you’re sometimes not sure who he really is. When I’m alone with him, his true self emerges; his beautiful eyes soften and he listens attentively. When the conversation turns inward, he looks you in the eye and reveals his tender soul.
Nael is constantly restless and searching for the right balance. He’s with everyone and alone at the same time. He always starts conversations with heartfelt questions like “How are you?” and “How is your family?”, and he knows how to offer support based on your answer. On this trip, I met his young daughter, Anne, and we felt as though we were sharing something precious.
Anne is a wise, innocent seven-year-old who lets herself be hugged and who hugs others. Ever since we met, we’ve been sending each other little messages and sharing our passion for loving animals.
I only have a few hours left in Geneva. Like Nael, I like spending a little time alone to find myself. I wanted to go to the Madeleine Church, which was my oasis while I was in Geneva. Le Salève was too, but unfortunately, I had to skip it this time, just like Rosa. I looked at it, but it was too much to climb on such a short trip.
Geneva is a musical city; I’ve always seen it that way, with cold streets and warm interiors, and windows fogging up from the sound of so many instruments playing at once, providing the strength to brave the cold. At La Madeleine, the choir and orchestra were rehearsing. Once again, the scent of incense and candles, and the colored light streaming through the stained-glass windows at sunset took me back to the days when this place was my refuge, recharging my senses.

I walked through the city center and found myself at the Bastions. I entered the library and went to the main entrance of the university. I walked through the corridors where I had spent time in the past and cried, remembering when Adam introduced me to his friends and said hugging me with a big smile and the pride of a ten-year-old boy: “Eh, regardez, c’est ma mamam “(“Hey, look, this is my mom”) …
Where was the philosophy amphitheater? Hall A or Hall B? Suddenly, the door to Hall A opened and a noisy group of young people started pouring out, chatting. There was a commotion and others began coming in from the street, greeting each other and talking.
A small group walked in through the door next to it and I slipped in with them, taking a seat. I couldn’t believe my eyes – sitting right in front of me was Pierre Alain! I wasn’t sure, as I could only see his profile. He looked like him, but his expression was sadder. Was it really him? I would have to wait until class was over. It might not be him though, as something seemed different even though he looked very much like him.
Finally, the damn class ends. As usual, I didn’t catch a thing; all I cared about was Pierre Alain.
- Pierre Alain, is that you? Is that your name?
- “Yes, it’s me… huh?”
- Look at me. Who am I? Give me a hug! You have no idea how hard I’ve looked for you! You’re here, and you’re just the same.
- “Yes, but I feel disappointed when I can’t keep my word. I’m in a lot of pain, Sara.”
- I’m your friend, Pierre Alain.
I asked one of the students caught up in the hustle and bustle at the end of class to take a photo of us. It's just like at Geneva airport, where you enter and exit following a series of photos depicting two passionate lovers about to kiss. You arrive at the entrance or exit gate having successfully a passionate kiss. Our hug was immortalized in a photograph, showing the soul-deep smile of two friends