I live in a big building with 76 apartments. We have people with different languages, with different colors. With english or french we usually manage. The population is aging. My neighbor is getting "forgetful". Sometimes she rings my doorbell more than 12 times a day. Yet if she could help me she would do so. She is physically really fit, with less aches and pains than I have. He has a really set schedule: having a coffee across the street. Just to have seen other people and so she doesn't feel alone. She is kind and helpful. Still dies her hair blond. She likes to be entertained and to be surrounded by people. Both her children however live a continent away. One in South Africa and the other one in the USA. She still is adventurous taking the tram to go to a nice lively square where she can have a, or more than a drink and where is surrounded my people. It is sad that her mind her memory is going. I am training myself to be patient, to try give her some time over a coffee or tea. There are other kind folks in the building like Sofia, younger than Lucy. She is very religious, takes communion regularly. So she must be one certain to go to heaven. There is also a University professor Mia, well read and thus interesting to me. She is a voracious reader and she likes a drink like Elixir d'Anvers. She has a cleaning lady, Julia, who is there most days: she cleans, helps with the care for Mia's son and ranges, makes the bed and does shopping, cleans the bathtub. She rides a light motorbike. Only in winter when there is ice on the streets and snow then she doesn't like it. There are Jewish people and people I can't classify on the basis of their name. Of course there are two architects members of the council of the building. There is also a variety of dogs, Tootsie the Yorkshire terrier, a big one, a small barking a lot white one and of course my very own DoggyDog. I like this variety and the view from my 12th floor over the old city. I also enjoy the morning sun.