Elternbesuchsmorgen für Ella, and a nighttime visit to the Top of Zürich

Luckily for me, Alex's teacher has a son attending Ella's school.  Today was supposed to be the parent visitation day for every school in Zürich, but Frau Ziegler had shifted her visit day to Tuesday so that she could see her son's classroom today, too.  So today, instead of having to divide my time, I got to spend a full morning with Ella in her class.  She called it "Take-Your-Parent-to-Work Day."

She wasn't kidding, either: my word, those kids work hard.  I sat in the back of the classroom with nochElla's parents and the other dozen folks who were able to steal away from work. Other than having the kids turn around and chant a sing-song-y "Gu-te Mor-gen!" to the parents, the teacher did nothing to acknowledge to parents at all.  Barbara whispered to me that, in visitation mornings in England, the kids would put on little plays and songs for the parents, and she was disappointed in the Swiss version. I wasn't surprised, though: Dennis warned me that one of his co-workers had complained that, when he visited his kid's class, he sat there all morning, only watching the kids quietly work math problems out of their textbooks.

And that's essentially what we did for a piece of the morning, as well.  The day started out with math: half the class went away to work independently, and the teacher called the rest of the class to the front of the room in a circle.  She gave the kids a random number, 710, and then asked the kids to count down from it by 80s, or else to count up from 240 by 70s, tossing a ball among them and taking their turn counting when they caught the ball.  She then had the kids return to their seats and work word problems: "When I have 80 taken away from me, I am bigger than 430," and so forth.

Ella's told me many times that she adores math–primarily because it's a relief to understand something,  I'm sure–and she was quick to volunteer answers and finished her seat-work quickly, and then lapsed into a daydream.

The kids were finally released from their desks for a quick ten-minute recess: it's not very long, particularly when you have to get on your warm things and change your clothes.  The two Ellas grabbed a jumprope so that they could initiate their favorite game, helicopter, that playground favorite in which one kid swings a rope in the center of a circle and all the kids try to jump over it.  It was such a pleasure to see Ella out there, playing in the middle of a mass of kids that soon reached a couple dozen, and having a great time.

At one point she got hit hard with the rope, and I know it must have stung, but she just made a face and rubbed it, not missing a beat when the rope swung around again. I think it wasn't long ago that such a thing would have sent her off into a sulk or put her to tears.  And actually, not long ago, she would have been standing off by herself on the fringes, afraid to join in, much less start, a game like that.  As Dennis puts it, she's definitely leveled up.

Back in the classroom, the kids shifted to some German work: they read a short essay together about brainstorming for making up stories, and then they had to answer some questions about how they get their ideas when they write.  Ella initially didn't understand the questions, but nochElla's mom helped her out, and Ella managed to finish the assignment before the lesson was over...and that made me very, very happy: less incomprehensible homework this weekend.

And finally it was time for the kids to go to swimming class.  Their pool is at a local high school, about fifteen minutes away.  When we first moved here, I know that hike felt really long and rough for Ella: it was freezing cold in January, and she had to keep up with her class on their brisk uphill hike.  She'd inevitably fall behind, and her unsympathetic teacher would give her a Joker assignment for being slow.  But this year has made such a walker out of Ella, and she and nochElla chit-chatted blithely as they led their class confidently through a maze of side streets, all the way to the pool.

The swimming instructor looks is a burly, stocky, bearded man with a loud, commanding voice.  And he didn't mess around: he had the class, adorable in their bathing suits and swim caps, jump into the water immediately.  He threw a thick rope into the water with them, and had one boy grab it and chase the rest of the class, playing a sort of sharks and minnows: any captured kids had to hold onto the rope as well as they chased the other kids down.  Ella, being Ella, was one of the last kids to be caught.  She made her final stand in the corner of the pool, arms outstretched as she waited, waited, waited, until the last possible second and then splashed with all her might before grinning and taking her place in the chain of kids.

But after that warm up, it was all business: the kids did lap after lap of front crawl and back stroke and underwater swimming, practicing strong kicks and strokes.  Ella gave me little winks and waves every time she passed by: she was having a great time.

And then, as a reward, the teacher threw a dozen enormous inner tubes into the pool and let the kids play by themselves. Ella and a group of five commandeered one of the largest tubes and fought off marauders: again, it was a joy to watch Ella play so happily, deep in her comfort zone.

On our way back to school, I tried to talk with some of Ella's classmates, to their vast amusement: Ella helped me out a bit.  But, as perky as everyone was on their way back to the class, the accumulated fatigue of the day obviously set in when the kids settled into their desks.  Frau Barmettler, the teacher, eased the kids gently through the rest of the morning with some singing and some stretches and a story. A well-deserved break, I think.

Especially since Ella wasn't done for the day, and had to go back for more after lunch.  The boys and I kicked around at the house, wasting time, until Ella was done, followed an hour later by Kevin and Karen.

The latter two had returned to Zürich last night after a whirlwind trip to Madrid. Dennis and I gave them an itinerary for a walking tour of Zürich's Altstadt, and the two of them spent the afternoon seeing what they could see.

It turned out to be a festive day to spend downtown: today we learned that 11:11 on November 11th, or Martinsmas, happens to be the official start of Carnival season in Zürich.  (Yes, the same Carnival season that ends right before Lent: they love Fat Tuesday, or Fasnacht, here.)  Today all of the crews name their princes and princesses, and representatives storm the city hall in jest and demand a key to the city. Apparently marching bands come out and play in the streets as well, which is what Karen and Kevin had the fun of seeing.

After getting the kids dinner, we wore Joey out by filling the bathtub up high and letting him swim laps under water, back and forth. And then, after we put Joey to bed, we got ready for an extremely rare treat. Susannah and I finally got smart and arranged to liberate one another so that we each could have an evening out.  I took my turn tonight so that Dennis and I could have a double date and enjoy some time and good food with our friends, without the child-sized distractions.

In the restaurant bathroom: a 1-franc
breathalyzer test.  Odd, since it's
impossible to drive there.

Susannah said the kids did a fine job: she brought a new movie for the lucky ones to watch, and Ella read Alex his bedtime story when the show was done.  Ella, herself, stayed up reading a long time, but apparently decided to go to sleep when Susannah reminded her that we'd be home soon.

But we were far from concerned.  We made dinner reservations for a restaurant we'd long hoped to visit, Uto Kulm, located on the very top of Ütliberg. There's a ten-minute uphill hike from the train station to the restaurant, and no roads for cars: all diners had to make the hike. But I wore my heels anyway, since I never, ever get to dress up.

The observation tower

While we were waiting for the train, we looked up at the mountain: the top was sheathed in fog. No twinkling lights of Zürich for us tonight.  But the view at the top was still

captivating, with misty paths and spooky trees.  And because the fog reflected the light of the Ütliberg radio tower, the sky was a wicked deep red.


And then, once we reached the top, we had a wonderful meal with our wonderful friends.

Dinner for Kevin and Karen: They cooked themselves.
Dennis and I were lazier diners.