The little differences

But you know what the funniest thing about Europe is... It's the little differences. I mean, they got the same shit over there that we got here, but it's just...it's just there it's a little different.

                                                                                              -Vincent, Pulp Fiction

It's so true.

It's the little things: those are the things that always make stop short and remember that we're truly living in a foreign country.

Often it's the little things that I want to purchase but just can't seem to find.  Silly things, like vanilla extract or frozen waffles.  These days, I can mix up a batch of waffle batter in under two minutes.  But more often the differences that I notice have to do with Ella's and Alex's schools, for that's where we have the most contact with the Swiss and their culture.

For example, Ella came home a couple of weeks ago with a little speech all planned out.  She'd been given the opportunity to  buy books through the school, and she'd noticed two that she really wanted.  She carefully listed the merits of each, while I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. Would I spring to buy some German books for my daughter? Well....yeah!

But it struck me, more, how very different the system is here from the colorful Scholastic catalogues that are sent home on a monthly basis from preschool on up.

We got to experience another hallmark of school days, the school portrait, with Alex.  I was a little confused by the whole process, because although the portrait date was written on Alex's calendar (I thought), I never saw any sort of order form or any other information from the photographer.  On the day of the pictures, I dressed Alex in a button-down and walked him in to speak with his teacher.  "Oh, you only pay for the pictures if you decide you want them," she told me.

Well, they came back, and I did decide I wanted them.  The photographer had shrewdly printed full sets of portraits for each child, under the assumption that no mother would refuse adorable pictures of her adorable child.  That was certainly the case with me, even though I have a portrait of Alex from last November, only: I bought the whole package.  Even the sheet of wallet-sized stickers, each printed with Alex's face.

After I collected and paid for the portraits, I came out to a little mass of excited girls, hopping up and down and pointing at Joey's stroller, which was now holding an envelope with Alex's name written on it.

So all of you are done with school now, but we still have four full weeks left before their short summer break.   But it's getting to be time, now, to think about a year-end gift for the teacher.

In our American classroom, the room parents take up a collection at the beginning of the year to cover holiday gifts, staff appreciation, and the year-end gift, as well as treats for class parties throughout the year.  For those parents or kids who want something a little more personal, you're welcome to give an additional gift.  Most do, because, man, those teachers deserve it.

Here, I was informed by my integration teacher, gifts for teachers are very rare, and if they're given, they should be small and, generally, homemade.  It's sometimes traditional to give a teacher a batch of cookies at Christmastime, for example, or a small jar of home-roasted nuts is a very appropriate gift.

Her words were confirmed by that little envelope, which contained a confusing note that Dennis finally translated with a lot of help from google.  Also enclosed was a small cloth bag that Alex is to fill with something he's made: perhaps a found object, like a rock or a seashell, that he's decorated, or possibly a little jar of homemade jam, if the parent wants to get involved, or maybe just a picture that he draws. One of the parents is collecting these bags and presenting them to the teacher at the end of the year.  And for his Friday teacher, Frau Langen, he was given a little pendent that he's supposed to decorate, either with sewing or drawing, and the same mother is going to sew these together to make a little thank-you banner for the teacher.  Very sweet, and very different from the bookstore or coffee gift cards we Americans generally give our teachers.  Although I've heard that Swiss teachers are paid much better than ours.

Meanwhile, Ella was busy this morning, navigating some other differences in her school. Today her class had their second field trip, back into the woods for another hike and campfire lunch.  When I looked up the site of the field trip, I was amazed to see that it was over an hour away, and the trip there would involve several trains and buses: brave teachers.  But they gave themselves plenty of wiggle room to deal with the transportation: the field trip notice said that the kids probably wouldn't be home until 4:30 or 5:00, when the kids would be left at the closest train station to find their own ways home.

I don't know if you remember Ella's last field trip, but she decidedly did not enjoy it.  I sent her out so poorly prepared for the trip: she carried her heavy satchel, with all of her school books inside, all the way through the woods, and I didn't think to give her a water bottle for the trip. So when we talked about this trip, Ella was less than enthusiastic, until I reminded her that her friend nochElla would be there this time, and that we could help her pack a little lighter.  "Yeah, my teacher told me to bring a different bag this time."

Schultek backpacks

Here I should mention that the bag that Ella carries is completely different from that of most kids in her school. Swiss children, for whatever reason, all carry their books in enormous, hard-side sacks called "schultek."  These backpacks are incredibly expensive (and not incredibly well-made), generally running from $250-$400.  For a backpack. So I bought Ella an inexpensive messenger bag from ToysRUs, instead, and she's perfectly happy, thank goodness. Anyway, I assumed that the rest of the kids would be hiking with their big old schulteks.

There were two rain dates scheduled, and the parents' phone tree would inform us if the trip was to be rescheduled, last minute.  But the day was beautiful, so we packed her up. Ella remembered that, during the last field trip, one of the kids had brought a bag of marshmallows to share with the class, and she asked if she could do the same. So we bought marshmallows and sausages for roasting, as well as plenty of other snacks and a large water bottle, putting everything in a light cloth bag.  She seemed pretty optimistic when she set out this morning.

But when Dennis paused by her school to make sure all was well, he found a forlorn Ella sitting by herself.  Apparently all of the other kids had proper hiking backpacks today, and Ella as embarrassed that she, once again, was doing everything wrong.  We don't actually have any kid-sized backpacks here, so Dennis gave Ella his for the day.

And that apparently made everything better: when we set out to collect Ella at the train station at 4:20, we met her coming in the door, she having come home early and walked back with nochElla by herself. She'd had a great time, playing freely, running through the woods and making hideouts and sharing her treats.

Sometimes, different is very, very good.