It is no secret they do things differently here in Germany. We are here as a guest in their country, and I’m doing my best to adapt. Some things are easy (ahem, beer), but some things are hard. The hardest one for me is letting my kids go.
In the last year of Kindy (preschool is three years, including at age 5, our kindergarten year), the kids are expected to learn how to walk home from school alone. The police came and taught them how to safely cross streets, be aware of their surroundings and stay on the sidewalks. The parents teach the kids the way home from school and home. Now that the snow has melted I see parents walking their kids 4/5 of the way to school, then 2/3, then 1/2 way and now, I’m assuming, waving from the door as these incredibly small & young kids walk to school alone. Walk home alone.
Frau VestberrY has had some gentle encouragement from Dane’s teachers to let Dane walk home alone. I’m pretty sure the general consensus is that I’m overprotective, or even, gasp, a helicopter parent! The peer pressure to let Dane walk home alone is enormous. I want so much to integrate but every bone & fiber in my body is screaming that he is much, much too young. Heck, it’s only been 3 months since Tess has been allowed to walk to & from school alone. Thankfully in a big herd of kids, but my heart still races when she’s a minute late coming home from school.
Yesterday I decided to compromise. I let Tess walk from her school, to Dane’s school (the elementary school & the kindergarten are two different schools) and pick Dane up. Kindy has no problem letting 5-yr-olds leave with 11-yr-olds. And while I really, really, really wanted to be all German about this. I just couldn’t. I had to play spy mom. Since I don’t have a helicopter, or even a car LOL, I followed at a great distance on my bike. I am a bicycle mom.
Last year I promised that I would figure out how to better use my camera at night. Sigh. Thank goodness we’re stationed in Germany another three years, because a whole year later and I’mm still having issues taking night photo’s. I also didn’t learn how to cook the traditional goose. Again, thank goodness for another three years to get this right!
We celebrated St. Martin’s Day with Dane’s kindy again this year, read more about the story in Min’s product description for our DOTD: Lantern Parade. We had “bastlen” two weeks ago, and all the kids made their own lanterns (you can’t see Dane, he’s hiding behind the little girl with the white hat). On Tuesday we all got together for “laternelaufen”. We wait till dark, then everyone lights their lanterns (many still with candles, including Tess this year), and we walk through our little village, stopping occasionally to sing.
This year we did it a little different and started at our local nursing home, ending up back at the kindergarten. It was absolutely wonderful to see the town elders not just enjoy the kids, but enthusiastically join in on the singing. It is obvious the songs haven’t changed in many decades and it was a joy to hear the young & old voices mix together. I now have a sudden yearning to see my Oma. The weather is mostly clear, we have a long weekend, if everything else cooperates I hope to be by her side in Holland tomorrow.
Saturday was an incredible day. After my morning NL, we went out for a drive to the new house and wound up making an offer! It’s been accepted and now we are wading through the next steps. It is an incredibly confusing journey, but I’ve got some wonderful people holding my hand, and I’m 100% certain the end will be worth the journey.
Saturday night our new crazy Italian friend invited us to a German-Italian feast. Her village is a sister village to a small town in Italy. A whole busfull of Italians was on their way up to celebrate the cross-culture friendship. We wound up in the service bay of the local garage. The Germans had set the fest tables beautifully, fresh fall foliage on the table, pumpkins, pomegranates, nuts and stunning floral arrangements. The food was being prepared on hot plates in the next bay, some pots bigger than Dane! The smell was amazing. I couldn’t get my first plate fast enough.
The Italians had brought crates full of freshly harvested produce direct from their fields. As well as home-pressed olive oil and wine, fresh baked bread and hand-made pasta’s & sausages. By course #4 I was stuffed. But there were 2 more courses, as well as 2 dessert courses. I sacrificed my stomach in order to be polite, of course, and tasted it all. I especially loved the simple beef & asparagus pasta. The aspargus was so thin, so fresh, so alive with flavor!
Dane tried everything down to the 2nd dessert course. Sadly for him, he loved the last desert best. A dollop of ricotta cheese, with a local honey and jam. Together it was creamy, sweet and full of flavor. A perfect ending to a lovely meal. Then he panicked.
Somewhere along the way he’d overheard Cole & Dave talking about Italians, the Godfather and losing your legs if you owed an Italian money. I’m not positive on the full sequence of events or what he heard, but after he finished the last course he knew he had to leave. Or they’d cut his legs off. He knew we’d all eaten so much food, there was no way we had enough to cover the bill. The only solution was to leave. And leave fast.
Dave & I both tried to explain it was okay. That these were our friends, but at eleven at night, with a very full tummy, Dane couldn’t be convinced. We had to leave before he lost his legs.
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