Ein Chibli für Alex

I was feeling uncharacteristically glum this morning. I'd rather blame the darkness and cold weather, but I suppose our upcoming move has something to do with my mindset as well.  I'm trying hard not to be overwhelmed, but the thought of removing from this apartment and facing another Christmas in transit is...well. It is what it is.

Believe it or not, things will be easier this year than last. Last winter, our move was complicated when, after the packers came and loaded our crate, they noted that the carpet under our piles of box and toys and clothes was sopping wet.  Long story short, we discovered that there was a thick carpet of black mold behind the walls in our guest room: an outside drain pipe had gotten clogged with a toy, and all of the water was diverted into our house.  This was only two weeks before we were leaving the country: we called removal experts to open our walls and remove the mold and spores, but, masochists that we are, we decided to put the room back together ourselves.

Luckily, the previous owners left carpet remnants in our garage, so we were able to patch the floor, after heroic efforts by Dennis and his father to drill holes in the cement slab for new carpet tacks.  And they put up new drywall, which I spackled and learned to texture and painted. Wonder of wonders, we had the room put back together by Christmas eve.

So yes, it could be worse.

I decided to see what a little fresh air and exercise could do for my spirits, and loaded Joey into his stroller.  I didn't really have a destination in mind; we ended up walking about five kilometers from our home to the Hauptbahnhof to tip of the Zürichsee.  Joey was less amused by the walking than I, but I remembered Susannah telling me about a fun display set out by the UBS, and I made the long stroller ride up to him at the end. They've set out about two dozen large packages, each with an antique toy or holiday decoration inside, and we peered into every one.

The UBS also had a little carousel set out in the courtyard (shuttered at the time) and a tent, with a timetable of free crafts for kids: cookie decorating, Christmas card coloring, and candle decorating. Zürich is such a cozy city.





















We had our own little burst of small town fun this evening. The PTA at Alex's school organized a little holiday party, a Chibli, for the kids this afternoon, after school.  One of the moms had arranged for her English-speaking sister to call me, to explain about the event and invite us, which I found so cute and touching.

Joey was pretty worn out from our morning, so, when 3:30 came and it was time to leave for the party, he resisted.  Not sure we'd be able to get out of the house, I sent Ella ahead to meet Alex and deliver our brownies and explain our situation. When Joey and I did arrive, fifteen minutes, later, several of the mothers told me that "Elizabeth" had filled them in very nicely.

Ella, meanwhile, enjoyed a little regression session,
setting up a tea party for the dollies in the corner of the room.

While some of the moms were inside, setting up food and a craft for the kids, the teacher worked overtime, entertaining the kids in the playground, running a game of freeze tag and leading them in songs. And then she brought them into the classroom, calmed them by dimming the lights, ceremonially lighting a candle, and singing a few more carols.  I was charmed by how Alex led his brother around, sitting him in the circle beside him and making sure he behaved and participated.

A clever little basket, made entirely
without tape.

After the kids were quieted, one of the moms, Mette, who is from Denmark, led them in making a traditional Danish Christmas craft, the woven paper hearts they call Julehjerter.  They weave two long ovals, each folded in half and cut just so, into each other to make heart-shaped baskets that they fill with treats and hang on the trees. These, and paper chains, are their standard decorations for their trees.

Mette told me, later, that because it's so dark at Christmas time, these little woven handicrafts are their big entertainment for the season, that and eating and eating and eating.  Consequently, the hearts they make get very intricate: she had a book of about a hundred different designs: snowmen and stars and swirls and snowflakes.  They were really remarkable.


Although in Denmark, this is a very popular crafter for Kindergarteners, they were a little too much for this class's little fingers; the moms and the older sisters had a wonderful time, though. (If you're interested in seeing more, there are instructions here.  I was so charmed that I went and ordered a copy of Mette's book from the Danish national museum.)

Meanwhile, the littler kids melted away from the tables and spread across the classroom, playing with toys and each other, recongregating quickly when the snack table was opened.  But at that point they immediately fell into an orderly line and each picked exactly one treat to take to their little table to eat.  They've been trained well.

My brownies disappeared in half a second; funnily, in this land of chocolate, brownies and chocolate chip cookies are scarce treats. I think they're actually a little too sweet for the adult Swiss palates, but the little kids didn't seem so discerning.  Frau Ziegler had led the kids in making their own addition to the snack table, little stacks of dried fruit, topped by a green lump of marzipan and skewered with a sparkly toothpick:  Alex watched me proudly while I ate mine.

Alex, enjoying some affection from his friends.

He looked even more proud when some of the moms presented the teachers with their holiday present, a single rose for each.  I was surprised to learn that Christmas presents for teachers are considered very unusual here.  At most, kids will give their teachers homemade cookies.

Fueled with sugar, the class became a little less orderly: when we left at 5:30, the Chibli was still going strong, with a fine dusting of crushed popcorn across the floor and toys and smiles everywhere. I reflected that it's hard to imagine such a thing happening in an American classroom, and more's the pity.

Although I suppose I'm a bit of a killjoy, too: the kids, of course, were not the least bit hungry for dinner, but I hauled them home before the party ended because I felt like I had to try. Old habits.