Eine Zürcherin

This morning was the last of my Zürich integration classes.  Joey toddled into the daycare room, carrying a plate of cookies for his teacher friends.  They were hungrily received, the teachers told me, but Joey didn't get much out of his last day in the playroom: after just a few minutes of listlessly pushing around cars, Joey wandered off to his stroller, curled up, and fell fast asleep.  I thought that he was long over his stomach bug (or I wouldn't have taken him to the class), but perhaps he has something else he's fighting off?

The moms had a relaxed morning, as well: after a little course evaluation, we all walked to the Stadthaus, the Zürich Town Hall, where city threw a little graduation ceremony for its newly-integrated women. The building is just lovely, with beautiful frescos on the walls and ceiling. We got to enjoy these during a celebratory Apéro, with yummy treats including, yes, cheese cubes. We all congregated in what our instructor called "the prettiest room in Zürich," the Musiksaal, which had a stunning view of the Limmat and the cathedrals that kept distracting me the speeches (as did Susannah's baby Christopher's smiles).  We all filed through the front of the room, where we received our certificates, which are (almost) suitable for framing. And the director overseeing the integration program gave a short, kind speech, informing us that we are all now true Züricherinnen.

And who wouldn't want to be a true member of a city featuring sights and sounds such as these, recorded on my walk home: Swiss bagpipes!

In truth, just when it's time to leave, I'm only just starting to get a sense of what it might mean to be a true Zürcher, and to be able to imagine what it could feel like to live here more permanently. And I don't just mean being more familiar and at ease with the city, although, to my delight, I've finally located what I believe to be the best chocolate croissant in the city.  They're baked by a woman who sells them in out of a tiny window, which reveals a closet-sized shop behind: literally a hole in the thick stone walls of the Altstadt.  Apparently this bakery, on Oberdorferstrasse, has been there for almost 400 years, and the building that houses it is about 700 years old...and, as luck would have it, it's right on my way to my Integrationskurs.

But more important than small pleasures such as perfect baked goods are the larger and more important comforts of finding a place for yourself in your community.  For one thing, I feel as though, these last few weeks, the kids have really finally found their way in school. They have a sparkle and a cheerfulness that had been missing for a while. And today Ella came home, saying that her teacher had started a new behavior incentive plan for the class: if you have ten weeks of excellent behavior, you can earn a pencil, and after twenty weeks, you earn a whole pen.  She says also said that, after thirty-two Joker-free weeks, you can earn the ultimate prize, a temporary tattoo.

Ella's received one to many birthday party goodie bags to get excited about a temporary tattoo; however, she was thrilled when the teacher posted the class standings and she learned that she and her friend nochElla are, apparently, far and away the best behaved kids in class. That was a real revelation for her: after a semester of seemingly doing everything wrong, and constantly breaking rules, I think Ella believed that she was just doomed. Nonetheless, she's tried so, so hard this year to behave well and to be a good student.  I definitely see a change, and her teacher told me, too, that she was impressed with how Ella's grown and matured. But this is the first real positive feedback that Ella's received this year, and it was received gratefully.

So Ella cheerfully attached her homework, and then she skipped ahead to the community center, where we were headed to get haircuts for my shaggy sons, from the same woman who helped us two months ago. That little errand was incredibly easy: the barber knew exactly how I like the boys' hair to look, and we were wise enough, now, to go early. The boys' hair was done in a half-hour, and a pleasant one at that. It was fun listening to Alex chat with the barber, telling her how much he liked the haircut she was giving him.  Joey tried to keep up a conversation, too, but his was a little more blunt: "Why you keep taking the hairs off my head? Why my ears so big?"

We spent the rest of the afternoon at the community center.  All parents love spending time there, with the great playground and the easy access to coffee, and I so always find a few friends and acquaintances. Today, in particular, I ran into the grandmother of Alex's friend Penelope, and then I had a long chat with the mother of one of Alex's newer friends, Bleart.  I'd met her for the first time only yesterday at Alex's school: she's lived in Zürich for eight years, now, and came originally from Kosovo.  With Ella's help translating, she told me stories of the American soldiers who came to Kosovo, and how they always to have little presents for the civilians, which of course won the children's adoration.  And it seems all of the young ladies of Kosovo had massive crushes on the American forces.

While we talked, we watched our kids play: Alex and Bleart had Joey between them, and all three boys had their arms slung around each other's shoulders...when they weren't chasing each other across the playground. And, since it was the only way he could communicate, Alex was talking in whole German sentences to his friend, who is also in his German-as-a-second-language class.  The boys were clearly having a wonderful time, and so we figured we'd try to have them play together again, maybe next week.

While Alex and I were solidifying friendships and practicing our German, I sent Ella off to the community hall with an errand. I had some movies to return, and I suggested that she try to figure out how to choose and check out new ones with my card.  Ella's never checked out a library book before, not even in English, so she hesitated, but she was aware that they had many, many shelves of English movies, and temptation outweighed fear.  Ten minutes later, she came running back with a proud, ear-to-ear grin, waving Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and The Little Mermaid II.  As it was starting to get cold and dark, I borrowed the movies and used them to lure the boys away from the playground to home.

On the way home, Ella rhapsodized about what a perfect day it had been.  Ella says that a lot, but most frequently on the quietest, simplest days, the ones we spend at the neighborhood playgrounds, with friends.  And that, of course, makes sense.  As much fun as it is going on wide-ranging adventures and seeing new cities, it's so much nicer when you're in your comfort zone, the place where you know what to expect and have friends waiting when you get there.