English class at the French school

I've already posted once about the Bambina's English class at school.  She is in "CP" (first grade) at the French primary school here in Antananarivo and her class has "anglais" twice a week - English for French kids.

I stated in my previous post that I believed that this class would be, at best, a complete waste of time for the Bambina and at worst, harmful to the Bambina's French-English bilingualism.

So now I'm reporting back.  The times that the Bambina has talked about her English class at school, she has said that it is very very boring.   That was to be expected. But she has also said that the teacher makes mistakes.  Last week, she said that the teacher, a Malagasy who almost certainly learnt to speak English at a French school, is teaching the students the parts of the body in English.  In doing so, she points to her head and says "ED".  "Repetez, les enfants : ED".

So the teacher is telling the children that the word for "tête" in English is "ed".  Not "head" - "ed".  And she is getting the children to repeat this word over and over, thereby engraining this hideously incorrect pronunciation into each child's brain.

Ever wonder why the French speak English so poorly?  Now we know.

But not only does this teacher drop her "h's" when she shouldn't, she adds one when there isn't any.  The Bambina has an Australian classmate, Ella.  The English teacher calls her.... you guessed it... "Hella".  What the hell?

All of which leads me to conclude that these English lessons aren't just harmful for my little Bambina's bilingual capacities.  They're not doing the other kids any good either.  The children are learning some English, yes, but bad English.  English that later on will cause listeners to think, "this person doesn't speak English very well."

Questioning our school choice

I'm feeling anxious today. Recently, the Bambina has seemed not quite herself and her teacher at school agrees that something is not quite right.

Sunday night, I reminded the Bambina that tomorrow there was school and her face went from content to crestfallen within a second. When I asked her what was wrong she said "I don't like school".

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because" was all she could answer. And then "I can't explain".

"Okay, let's review your typical school day and see what it is that you don't like. What do you do first?"

"First the teacher reads us a story. I like that."

"Okay", I say. "Then what."

"Then we read and write. I like that, too. Then there is recréation. That's okay but kind of boring because there's nothing there." (There's no playground equipment at the Bambina's school, if you can believe it.)

"Continue".

"Then we have mathématiques. I don't like that."

Uh-oh, I think to myself. She's not even seven years old and she already is having problems with math...

"I don't like working on the ardoise. I hate it. I want to do math on a piece of paper with a pencil."

The ardoise is a little slate that each child has, just like in the olden days, to do quick sums on. I had no idea that this could be an obstacle to learning.

"Then there's sport. I don't like sport. It's boring and tiring. Then English - also boring."

No surprise there. The Bambina is bilingual and has to sit through English lessons for beginners. Yawn.

"Then we have théatre. That's also boring."

I actually think that the Bambina could like a theatre class if it was done properly but in this case, judging by what they have "performed" for us, I can see her point. In the last performance, they stood around acting like sheep for ten minutes. And that was it.

And then there's art but we don't do much art like we did in kindergarten. We just learn about artists.

I'm happy that the French have taken it upon themselves to imbue knowledge of Kandinsky, Picasso and Robert and Sonja Delaunay, but it sure would be nice if they would also let the kids actually do some art!

"Mommy, if they canceled everything else, even recreation, and just let me write all day, I would love it. I just want to write."

Not sure what to do with this was. Academically, she is doing fine. Her grades are good. But she seems bored or at least uninterested. Is she in the wrong school system? Maybe I should take her out of the French School and put her in the American School? At least she would get to do more art and would be allowed to do math with pencil and paper instead of on a slate.

I'm afraid that if we continue in the French School it will be more of the same, year after year. On the other hand, I might switch her to an American school, and the problem still might not be resolved. And then if we ever do want her to switch back to the French system (say, because we move back to France and we can't afford a foreign private school), she may have a very hard time reintegrating.

And then there is always the possibility of putting her in the Primary Years Programme of an international school (when we move to another country, that is. There is no international school here in Tana). But having read the description of I'm not sure whether to love or hate it. (Any thoughts most appreciated, of course).

Why we love visiting Paris

The Bambino and I just returned from Paris less than two weeks ago.  As usual, we enjoyed every minute of it.  Here are some reasons why.

Carroussels abound.  The Bambino liked riding on this one right beside metro Jean Jaurès in the 18th arrondissement.   He went on it at least six times a day!

And the one in front of the hotel de ville was also a real treat, for the ride and for the gorgeous surroundings.

You can find a clean, safe, and fun public playground in pretty much every neighbourhood in Paris.   There are no parks or playgrounds where we live.  We rely solely on our own and other people's houses for this kind of recreation in Madagascar.

Flower shops, boutiques, ice cream stores,... civilization!

...and of course bakeries.  The Bambino asked for a croissant every single morning of our trip.

Travel with Toddlers, AKA When Will This Hell End?

Traveling to and from Paris this past week with just the Bambino (now 23 months) reminded me how difficult travel with toddlers can be.

The flight back was eleven hours.  He slept for two of those hours.

He's too little to be interested in movies or even the short cartoons that the flight entertainment programme has to offer kids (who ARE these under-twos who will watch TV for longer than three minutes at a time?  It's not that I'm against TV for kids that age.  Mine would just never watch that long!).

His picture books are too short to last more than a few minutes each.

His toys were nothing new.

And after his two-hour nap, he wasn't tired in the least.  In fact, he was fuuuuull of energy.

What kept him busy in the end?  Some French maman had the ingenious idea of bringing a bag of toy cars for her three-year old son.  The Bambino was thrilled to play cars with this older boy.  Phew.
In between running up and down the aisles, pulling peoples eye-blinders down, covering people's TV screens and generally being a complete nuisance, that is.

In the end, I played the completely laissez-faire, slacker mom and let him run around while I remained seated in my chair, enjoying games of Solitaire and Air France's version of Trivial Pursuit.

Until he ran into the Business Class cabin and started trying to wake people up in there.  The flight attendant didn't like that too much and "suggested" that I not let the Bambino run around by himself.  Fortunately, meal time was just ending at that point, so I looked at her innocently, pointed to the meal tray in front of me that had not yet been cleared away, shrugged my shoulders and said, "What can I do?  I'm trapped." ;-)

Imperative for parenting in some parts of the world - a driver's licence

After years of living single in New York, London, and Paris, and then years with children in Paris, Rome and now Antananarivo, Madagascar, this Globetrotter Paris is - finally - going to get a real driver's licence.

You're probably wondering how it is possible that I don't have one.  Well, basically, I never got one in high school or university and then I was always limited for time as a full time lawyer and even more limited for time as a lawyer and mom.  And when I finally stopped working as a lawyer, when we moved to Rome, well, I was NOT going to try to learn to drive in Italy.  No way.

So now I am getting a driver's licence in Madagascar,

where there are no traffic lights,
where there are no stop signs,
where there are no signs for anything, really
where even the marking on the pavement is so faint that you can't see it
and where traffic jams and air pollution abound.

It's imperative.  We have a driver here but our next city will probably be a place where getting a full-time driver is not so normal, practical or cheap so, well, I may have to actually, er, drive.  Sigh.

Adventures in mud

We often head out to the Club Olympique de Tananarive (the COT) on Sunday simply because, well, there's not much else to do in this city on Sunday.  When we're in Paris, we head to the park.  There are no parks here.  Or we go to a museum.  No museums here either.

So, if we're not exploring this grand island, we head to the COT, play tennis (well, the Frenchman plays tennis), swim, eat lunch, and hang out with friends.

Except that we're in the rainy season.  And yesterday it rained.  Hard.

And since Madagascar has a lot of dirt (red dirt, mind you) and very little pavement, well, there's a lot of mud here after a rainstorm.

Needless to say, our kids had a lot of fun!

South Africa - Part 3: The Spier Wine Estate

Imagine that you're in France and you stop at a wine estate in Bordeaux.  If they're open, the owners will let you taste some of their wine - maybe - and then you may buy a bottle or two.

While you and your spouse are tasting the wine, your kids are.... doing what?  Running around and making a lot of noise while the owners say "Attention" every minute or two because your little ones are about to step on and/or break something?  Or maybe just being bored and asking "Can we go yet" every minute or two.

Now let me compare this scene with Spier Wine Estate, about a 45-minute drive from Capetown, South Africa.

You arrive in a HUGE parking lot.  There are at least 50 other cars there.  The first thing you bump into on exiting the parking lot is a large market with all kinds of South African crafts.

Then you walk by a deli that sells Spiers wine and lots of yummy foods (think ham, cheeses, jams, relishes, pickles, chips...) and there is a huge picnic area out back where you can eat their food.  There are two play areas for the kids, both with all-natural wooden equipment.  There is a duck pond.  There is a restaurant where you can have lunch or dinner with their wine.  And then you can also taste their wine for a small fee.

Oh, and there's a hotel there, too, in case you would like to make the Spier Wine Estate your base for exploring the winelands of the Western Cape.


When it comes to marketing wine, the French could maybe learn a little from the South Africans, n'est-ce pas?