Guta Mordakin

When Ella started kindergarten three years ago, I knew every little thing that happened in her class.  I knew what she was studying, I knew the other kids, I knew every step of her daily routine, and I was in her class, myself, twice a month (which was actually quite hard, since I had a three-year-old and a newborn at the time), helping the kids with their reading.

But all I know about Alex's Kindergarten comes through the skewed lens of the 5-year-old perspective.  This afternoon I tried to get Alex to tell me a little about what he does each day. This is what he told me:

Well.  When I get to school I usually play on the playground for ten minutes.  I always really have to go to the bathroom while I'm playing. And the other kids show up. And then the teacher opens the door.  I run to the bathroom, and then I have to get dressed. I take off my coat and I change my shoes.  And then walk up to the teacher and say "Guta Mordakin, Frau Simmen," and shake her hand.

Gute Mordakin? Do you mean "Guten Morgan?"

No. You say it 'Guta Mordakin.' Say it after me, Momma. Gu-ta Mor-da-kin.

Oh. I see. Thank you, Alex.

Here in Switzerland, not only do they speak Schweizer Deutsch (or Swiss German) in the classroom through first grade, but they roll their Rs with r-r-r-relish when they speak.  So, to Alex's ear, that's exactly what "good morning" sounds like.

He's getting such a unique language-learning experience.  Since neither Dennis nor I speak Swiss German, and not even Google Translate can help us, Alex is completely on his own.  If nothing else, he's learning some amazing coping skills. He's becoming so good at listening and watching very carefully, to figure out rules and customs and language.  He'll never have occasion to use Schweitzer Deutsche again, but I hope the language acquisition skills, at least, will serve him well.

After I shake her hand, I'm allowed to go and pick out a game. I usually choose the blocks. If Frau Lengen is the teacher, then it's a really good day.  Because she's the one who lets us do lots of gymnastics and games. Frau Simmen is nice, but she doesn't play with us as much. Although she does lots of arts and crafts with us, so I like her, too. But I love Frau Lengen.

And sometimes I get to play in the Bowreka when Frau Simmen is the teacher, and that makes me happiest.

Dennis finally figured out that Alex actually meant Bauer Ecke, or builder's corner. It's a highly coveted corner of the classroom, and only two kids are allowed to play in there at a time.

Scandalously, Alex was actually banned from the Bauer Ecke for a short while.  I guess when he came to realize the gap of communication between parents and teacher, he decided to see what he could get away with.  Do you remember when I told you that Alex had earned some little jewels from his classroom for good behavior? I started getting suspicious as Alex brought home more and more of them; when the cute little tiny wooden cars showed up, I really started to worry. It was just too much for a classroom budget to sustain.

"Alex," I asked him, "Your teacher didn't give you those, did she. You took them from your classroom." Alex clung to his lie for a little while, but then, finally, in extreme relief and a flood of tears, he confessed. Confronted with the temptation of a huge chest of these jewels in the Bauer Ecke, inspired by the single glass jewel that Ella had earned from her music teacher, and encouraged by Dennis's and my pride in him when he brought home his prize, Alex was set on a downward spiral of petty thievery.

He was terrified when I told him everything had to be returned and that he had to confess. His amused and understanding teacher chose to punish his crime with a week's exclusion from the Bauer Ecke. But, of course, the real punishment was Alex's shame. The day that he was allowed back in the Bauer Ecke, Alex's relief was palpable: "Mom, I feel so glad that I got my teacher's trust back. This is my best, best, best, best day. Best."

I may sound cavalier about all this, but, of course, I was horrified by it all, my mind spinning with worries about raising a small master criminal. But my more rational side knows that toying with deceit is a normal part of childhood development.  I think Alex learned his lesson well.  I know it was a hard one for him, but, despite how fraught this made him (and me!) I'm glad he learned it, and at a young age, in a safe place. At least right now, he's super-contentious, to the point where he's afraid to accept things.

For example, today Frau Simmen sent him home with a little wood-and-leather tom-tom.  He said she gave it back to him several times and then she walked over and helped him put it in his backpack.

I don't know Mom.  I think I got the drum today because today is a good day.  Frau Simmen gave everyone something to take home today.

   

Dennis's theory is that she gave it to him because she hates us.  Alex, now a veteran of the parade scene, marched around the house, shouting at the top of his lungs, banging his drum.

Alex is still feeling nervous about getting to keep such a wonderful thing, and asked if he could take it with him, tomorrow, just in case it was only a loan.  I'm considering attaching a "Danke, aber nein, danke" note.

It wouldn't be the first time the teacher has sent home a little gift for the kids, which is why it took us so long to figure out Alex's crime wave.  I think my favorite was when she was cleaning out the classroom library and sent Alex home with a book about the color red. It had some really excellent illustrations of red things:

Every day I ask Frau Simmen if we can play Tally Tally Oomoose, but she always giggles at me, and usually she says no.  

I don't wonder that she giggles.  So, after a lot messing around on Google and some questions, I finally figured out that Alex is trying to say "Taler, taler, du musst, [wandern]," the first line to the German version of "Button, button, who's got the button."

It's Alex's favorite game, and often Alex, Joey, and I sit in a circle to play it.  Our games must lack the drama of the those in Alex's class: as Alex notes, Joey's not so good.

From Kindergarten: A fairy, shooting magic at
a little boy to give him wings and a magic wand.

Sometimes I get to sit next to Jonas, and those are the best times because he's my best friend. But all the kids are nice. Nina is also my best friend because she's the nicest, and Lena (with an L: l-l-l, Momma) is the best at writing letters in our class because she practices at home all the time.  And Penelop can speak English a little bit.

I really like June, too, and you were right, her name is June, not Una.  The other day, when the Army guy came and taught us to cross the street, we all wore name tags and so I could figure out what her name was.

All the kids in my class are perfect. They do everything perfectly.  I watch them and try, but I make mistakes. But it's okay, because I try.

Honesty, friendship, independence, effort, and a little bit of Schweitzer Deutsch: I know it hasn't been an easy year for Alex, but I think it's been well-spent.