Theater Spektakel

This morning was the first Integration course that I'd had in six weeks: as I admitted, I skipped last week's lecture on insurance policies. But today sounded like it could, maybe, possibly be interesting: we were to tour one of the recycling facilities in Zürich.  Our teacher promised "it will not be a waste of your time," so, based on that pun alone, I figured I had to go.

When we arrived at class, we learned that the recycling plant was just recently shut down, so our teacher needed to come up with a syllabus on the fly.  She offered to take us by some of the public recycling bins and to answer questions about the mysterious and time-consuming process of recycling in Zürich, and then to take us for a walk around the Altstadt, pointing out things that she thought we'd find interesting.

What a fun morning it was.  We walked through a part of Zürich that I'd never been to, just a few streets back from those that I usually travel, and saw the most peculiar hodge-podge of things.  We wandered by Cabaret Voltaire, birthplace of the Dadaist movement (back when Zürich was a haven for those protesting World War I) and peeked into the State Archives, with a darling little wooden model of Alt Zürich.

We learned where to buy the best hot chocolate (Conditorei Schober) and the best raisins (Schwarzenbach). We learned where to look for an artisan's stamp on a grave stone, and how to order books at the public library.

I feel as though I've been pretty aggressive these last eight months, trying to get to know this city, but every single thing I saw this morning was new to me.  To those like Rick Steves who poo-poo Zürich as a dull place to visit...well, I haven't been bored yet.

When I went to pick up Joey from child care, he ran across the room and leapt into my arms, yelling "Mommy! I missed you, too!"  I'm glad he knows I miss him, even if I don't say it.  The child-minders were all talking about how sweet that was, and they didn't even see him in action this morning, when I was brushing my hair: "Mommy, you're pretty." Smooth, like his daddy.

We had just a little time before we had to be home to meet Alex and Ella, so Joey and I stopped in a children's music shop that I'd been meaning to visit.  Ella and I were both pretty crushed to learn that she doesn't have any sort of music class in school this year: after second grade, music is only extra-curricular.  But Ella really loves her music, so I decided to do what I could and bought her some new (rubber...so much quieter!) mallets, and a little book of songs, and some staff paper.  I think she'll have some fun with all that.

But all of that will have to remain a surprise for another day.  Ella ran off to do homework at nochElla's house, and then didn't return for two hours, caught up in playing and gossiping. By the time she got back, it was time to hit the road.

At the end of each summer, Zürich hosts a festival called Theater Spektakel. Evenings and weekends, there are performances in several different venues on the eastern shore of the Zürichsee, and the main festival grounds also hosts many street artists, performing amongst a dozen or so temporary restaurants. Not food stands: these are much more substantial, and the lawns in front are filled with hundreds of picnic tables. It looked delightful.

Ella made fast friends with the little boy sitting
next to her, an Aussie, who informed her that
they have "just heaps" of kangaroos where he
comes from.

Ella and Alex rode their scooters from downtown, past Mythenquai Beach, to the festival grounds, while Joey fell asleep in his scooter. It's too bad: Ella and Alex loved the street performer that they got to watch, and Joey would have, too.

I guess you could call him a clown, although he did some magic tricks as well. And he did incredibly well, handling the wiliest audience I ever did see.  There were some incredibly poorly behaved children there, rummaging through his trunk of props when his back was turned, or grabbing and pulling apart his costumes when he put on disguises, or jumping up and grabbing his puppets.  But he really did handle it well, for example giving his puppet CPR after a boy grabbed it and shook it.  And I think that was what impressed Ella the most about the show. As she put it,"He was very flexible!"

I'm sorry to say that I didn't get a photo of it, but at one point he overheard Ella scoffing to Alex that she could juggle just as well as the performer was doing.  So he pulled Ella into the center of the circle and handed her two hats to juggle. And she did exactly that, with perfect poise, before grinning at him and handing back the hats.  And then she rushed over to my side: "Mom! I wish I could blush! I have all this nervous blushing caught in my stomach and it can't get it's way out!"

Muscle-powered carousel

While the kids were amused, I walked around peeked at some of the things close by.  In the center of everything was a funny little carousel, propelled by a woman with a punting pole and music provided by a hippie with a guitar.  Most of the parents and kids were clustered around a cafe, half of which was taken up with children's play areas: a pretend school, and a little play house.  If only some place like that existed permanently in Zürich, I swear that I would haunt it.

I stared at this creepy thing for the longest time, but I just
couldn't figure it out.  I think you just put trash in the mouth
and then kids can crank it through the body until it comes
out the other end, serving no other purpose than to
encourage kids to hunt up and dispose of stray trash

Part of the childrens' corner of the festival cafe

The little play-classroom

The kids were also spent a bit of time in a  room that was filled with weaving toys and a woman working a full loom, letting kids help her and select and add colors.  I wish we'd had more time for the kids to curl up and play with the little hand looms, but I'd promised them we could go swimming today, and it was hot enough that I really wanted to keep to that promise.

So we returned to Strandbad Mythenquai, which is much more pleasant in the late afternoon, with the beach shaded by the trees bordering the sidewalk and sand.

After Ella and Alex were contentedly digging in the sand, I nudged Joey awake.  He opened his eyes and started spouting indigence: "W-w-where! Where my big truck! Where my truck go! I want my new truck!" Poor thing, he must have been having a pretty wonderful dream.  But the reality of the beach wasn't so bad, either, once he came around to it, especially when the scenery was combined with a dinner of hot dogs.












I let the kids swim longer than I should have, since this might be the last time they get to swim in the Zürichsee. Alex swam clear out to the sunning dock, and, once he got there, did the most adorable little victory laps and skipping dances. You could tell that he was incredibly proud of himself, like he'd gone on an incredible journey to a remote island.  After he finished his dancing, he tried to beckon Ella to him, but she shouted back "No way! There's swans in the water!"

Godless killing machines.  Also, apropos of nothing, the
floating poles in front of Ella are a super-simple, super-fun
toy for the kids: they're allowed to scramble all over the
free-spinning tubes, and they loved trying to gain purchase

A few months ago, Dennis and Ella worked on a book called Mossflower, in which swans are portrayed as godless killing machines. Ella has cast a wary eye at the birds ever since, which, I suppose, considering their strength, isn't such a bad thing.

Do-nut. Do-nut. Do-nut-do-nut-do-nut-do-nut!

Well, when the wretched birds finally swam away, Ella swam out to join Alex, and then continued on to the big floating trampoline in the lake.  But two boys had already claimed the raft as theirs, and just as Ella tried to scramble on, they started jumping on it violently so that she couldn't climb on.  Poor Ella struggled with the ladder for several minutes before giving up, part angry and part crushed. And, just as she was telling me all about it, she looked back at the boys: "Hey! Look at that! They're...they're helping those girls up on the raft.  It's because they're of the age to wear bikinis. Boys are so awful!"

Alex had returned to shore at this point. In a small voice, he asked, "Do you mean me, Ella."

"Oh, no, of course not, Alex." Ella told him gently. And then her voice darkened "I'm only talking about horrible boys who weren't raised well and only like girls who wear bikinis." I'm with Ella: I don't like those kinds of boys, either.

Joey watches all the drama unfold

Contained. I'm kind of an awesome mother.

But Ella's mood lifted almost immediately, when she and Alex figured out that the were small enough to close themselves in the lockers.  The other Frauen in the room thought that this was unbearably funny.  I promised them that I'd had nothing to do with putting the kids in there, and one of them assured me, "Somehow, I believe you."
















I never take for granted how well-behaved the kids are when I take them on the buses and trams and trains in Zürich, particularly after they've been running around in the sun all day. But they all curled up to read, Ella mimicking all of the adults by reading the horoscopes in the 20-Minuten.  Reading the local free tabloid on the bus commute: she's a true Zürcher now.