Waiting for the headmistress (Rousse)

The teachers stood patiently in a long line, creating a human snake that encircled the school hall. I joined them, keen to discover whether or not the attraction out of sight at the head of the queue was worth the wait.

They were all desperate to share at least a couple of words with an ancient, wrinkled, white-haired old lady – their former headmistress. Long retired, she still held herself like the woman-in-charge, and was obviously greatly loved and missed by her former colleagues.

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