Deliberations at Daybreak . . . Flied Lice for Breakfast
I realize it has been many days since my last post and I have
likely alienated what remaining readership I have left. I would like to say that this fine morning
finds me with a robust internet connection and a hat full of ideas, but
unfortunately neither is the case. It
was suggested to me recently that locating the Holy Grail might be a more
worthy and fruitful quest than obtaining a French internet connection, and at
this point I might have to agree.
Indiana Jones himself would be unlikely to find the clues necessary to
unlock this riddle. I am at this point
only lacking one final piece of the puzzle, before I am able to finally surf
the internet and watch meaningful television.
The new ETA is midweek, but again I find myself blue in the face from
holding my breath. We will see what
happens. In a feeble attempt to catch up
on a week’s worth of activity, I will do my best to recap the highlights for
you now. The middle of this prior week
found Mom returning from distant lands to join us in the pursuit of
academia. The boys seem to have adjusted
well to their new learning environment and time will tell exactly how difficult
this adjustment proves to be. The
youngest has few concerns as the curriculum is primarily play based and you don’t
have to have a stellar understanding of the French language to finger
paint. As for the eldest, that is a
horse of a different color. The homework
has been difficult and plentiful to say the least. Both boys love their new school and have a
bright outlook on the future, but the eldest has a tall hill to climb that has
already caused a tear or two to fall. We
have played this scenario well and the collateral damage has been minimized due
to repeated warnings of the tough times ahead.
Nobody said this was going to be easy, but the reward will be far more
than even I could have anticipated. The
truth of the matter is, this language is difficult enough that even at the 4th
grade level, the readings are elementary indeed. As I have indicated in the past, my eldest is
able to polish off and adult level novel in his mother tongue in about a week
and he is unlikely to see comparable text in the French system until the
University level. That being said, a
simple 30 page book full of illustrations is enough to cripple even the wife
and I, so I can only imagine how daunting it must seem from his vantage point. There are some refreshing differences to his
new curriculum that I don’t recall from my American education at this same
age. The eldest curriculum has so far
included math, which is his strong suit and seems on par with that he would be
experiencing back home; literature, which again is classical, but somewhat
behind his reading level if not for the language barrier; Geography, which is
obviously more global in its scope than that found in the US; and finally,
Poetry. No shit . . . Poetry. God bless the French. Being able to recite French poetry by heart
is likely to get him his fill of feminine affection as he grows older. Lucky bastard.
Socially, life is good for the boys. Being the foreigner has its advantages. Full of mystery and allure, everyone at the
school knows them by name and making friends has proven to be an easy feat for
both lads. Kids share a common language,
the language of childhood. Neither needs
to understand the words spoken to understand each other’s meaning. That has truly been a blessing and has made
this transition a bit easier than I had anticipated. The same can’t be said for those of us on the
PTA. I can’t say that the parents want
much to do with me and I slip in and out of the school like a ghost with little
conversation or eye contact. We adults
have much more social baggage that prevents us from making acquaintances as
readily as our children often do. I have
exchanged pleasantries with the youngest’s teacher, but had not even met the
eldest’s until the second day of school.
The meeting was unfortunately not by chance. The courtyard in which recreation is observed
is a cramped area that is a teaming mass of chaos while the children are at
play. The eldest was the victim of a
head on collision during a misguided game of tag. The wreck left him with a skinned elbow and a
couple of healthy contusions to the skull.
Now, this was of some concern to his instructor who walked him out after
school to explain the circumstances of the incident. The best I could work out was that he hit his
head and she had applied a cream to the affected areas. Funny stuff.
I understood some of what she had said and knew from the conversation
that his head was ill and that some treatment had been rendered. After an interrogation of the eldest, it
seems he and another child collided while running in the courtyard during recreation
which left both children with head injuries.
While perhaps mildly concussed, I had little worry about the physical
state of my child. His career as a
martial artist and football player has rendered his dome something akin to a piñata,
so a blow to the head is not likely to knock anything looser than it already is. He is on the mend and so far he doesn’t seem
to have a stutter or anything that is going to require intensive therapy to
heal.
While the boys have been hard at work, I have been hard at play .
. . sort of. The extra time I now have
during my day has allowed me to shift my quest for physical fitness into
overdrive. Alternating between heavy
doses of running and cycling has left my lower extremities a wreck. I began with a 5k run on Thursday and a very
brisk 30k bike ride on Friday. I will be
saddling up again this afternoon for another round of cycling for which I will
exchange my mountain bike for my fixed gear bike just to keep things interesting. I have no hopes of 30k today, but I plan to
ride to failure and pray I don’t have to push my bicycle back home. Tomorrow will be more running, and so
on. The mild temperatures promise that I
should be able to maintain this pursuit well into the winter months. I am glad to have this time to devote to
fitness as the lack of farm related toil requires additional work on my end to
stay fit and active. I am not the only
one to benefit from this new focus on recreation. The wife was offered an opportunity over the
weekend to “saddle up” as well. We left
a farm full of horses (the wife’s passion) and she has not been the same
since. A friend arranged a riding lesson
for her on Saturday and despite her insistence that she didn’t have the time,
we made the necessary concessions for her to attend. My wife does not need lessons mind you. She has been on horseback since she was knee
high to a grasshopper, but this would be her first attempt at “English” riding
and a little instruction is always helpful.
Being a gear head, I was also insistent on kitting her up with all the riding
gear for her new hobby. The pants are
some funny shit. David Lee Roth would be
proud. I am glad to see her back in her
element and the time it takes away from other activities is well worth it, just
to see the light in her eyes.
The weekend was the first true test of academic fortitude as
well. The eldest had a butt load of
homework and he was none too thrilled with the idea. His teacher is a gem and has made concessions
for his lack of langague in assigning different tasks for him than the other
students in an attempt to get his language caught up to where it needs to
be. The sad truth of the matter though
is that this means that he has to complete twice the work the other students
have to do and it did finally bring him to tears in the darkened hours of Sunday
evening. I was sad to see him struggle,
but reminded him that when it seems tough, he needs to ask himself but one
question. Is he ok being Average, or
does he want to be Great. We both know
the answer to that question. The tears
dried and a smile returned as he finished his assigned task. It is this value in hard work and dedication
that his parents hold so dear that will see him through. Overall, the Autumn finds us happy and health
here in France but missing the familiar sights and sounds of home all the
same. That will never change. We all love France and the opportunity we
have been provided, but we are American and are proud of that fact. Though our country is presently broken and
battered, it is still a worthy place to call home. We look forward to the coming holidays and
our return for a visit to recharge our batteries. It will be a trip a year in the making and
while we are the same at heart, we are scarcely the same family that left
Eastern Kansas so many months ago. I
only hope our friends and family recognize us upon our return. Despite our many changes, my wife and I still
struggle with the language. I wish this
were not the case, but it is perhaps one of the hardest things I have ever
tried to learn. It is perhaps the
biggest lesson I have learned since I have been here and one which I think everyone
in the world could benefit from. I will
leave you today with the following thoughts on cultural acceptance . . .
It has been a failing of my youth to be all too ethnocentric in my
beliefs. I would have been the first to
criticize an immigrant for not understanding the English language and I had
very little compassion or understanding of a day in the life of one who is
trying to make a life in a foreign land.
I am now quite ashamed of this narrow minded viewpoint. Bless them all for their courage. This is not an easy task and not for the weak
of heart. So, if you have a problem with
the immigrant at the local market, restaurant or convenience store . . . FLUCK
YOU . . . have some flied lice and just chill.
True beauty in life is found in its diversity. I learned that from a Frog. Take care and speak again soon . . .
hopefully. R.
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