Raising Freethinking Globetrotter Kids

When we arrived in Kuwait, the Bambina had already been around nominally Muslim families in Madagascar, but none of them practised their faith in a visible way. So Kuwait was the first place my kids saw men in dishdashas and women in abayas and headscarves. 

Some women even had their faces and hands covered, something neither of our children had ever seen a lot of in Madagascar, Italy, or France. In France, it is against the law for any person to go with her or his face covered in public. And in public schools in France, teachers and students are prohibited from wearing any "ostentatious" religious signs. 

Our new cultural and religious environment came as a shock to our kids. I can remember the Bambino - age two - seeing for the first time in his life a woman fully decked from head to toe in a black abaya that also covered her face. We were in the restaurant of the Marina Hotel in Kuwait, serving ourselves at the buffet. The Bambino looked up at this woman with a black sheet over her head, pointed his little index finger at her and said "Fantôme!" (Fantôme is the French word for "ghost"). We were ready to burst out laughing because, yes, she did look like a ghost. A black ghost.

If I had to put a label on the Frenchman and me, I would say that we were secular humanists.  We want our children to question all beliefs - their origin, their rationale, and the historical accuracy of any "sacred" book that expounds a belief. When our children are confronted with a rule or moral code, whether found in a religious book or elsewhere, we want them to ask themselves whether that rule or moral code seems fair - whether it makes ethical sense. We want our kids to be skeptics. We want them to be as skeptical about the veracity of any major religion as they would be about the existence of, say, Zeus or Odin, until someone can show them evidence that requires a different conclusion.

On the other hand, we also want our kids to be open-minded to new points of view. And we want them to respect and love people for who they are, not for their beliefs.  We want them to be good to people of all beliefs, persuasions, and backgrounds, for the sake of being good.

So how do we do this? First, I try to expose my kids to all kinds of myths, from Greek, Norse, and Egyptian myths, to the stories in the Bible, to the myth of Santa Claus. And I ask them what they think of these stories.  Does the story make sense? Do they think the story is true? Do we have any evidence that it's true? When the Bambina asked how the earth and people came to be, I told her about how evolution works but I also told her that some people don't believe evolution is true, despite what scientific findings tell us. They believe that some kind of a god or gods created the world. In addition to finding some information for kids on the internet about evolution, I read to her the Genesis creation myth as well as the creation story in our Greek mythology book.  

Just as important as the preceding questions about what evidence we have to back up the story, I encourage them to think about the nature and character of the god in the story. When the Bambina saw a toy Noah's arc, I read the story of Noah's Arc to her ("God drowned everyone? Even the babies?"). During the annual Eid celebrations when the kids see sheep in the backs of trucks everywhere in Kuwait, waiting to be slaughtered, we talk about the story that the Eid celebration is based on - the story of how God asked Abraham to kill his son Isaac. The Bambina also learned very early on about the Christian Easter story - Jesus was killed on a cross as a human sacrifice for sins, and then rose from the dead. Conclusion: the god of the bible apparently thinks human sacrifice is a good thing?

Santa Claus has been of great assistance in creating young skeptical minds. When the Bambina was almost six years old, we had the following conversation: 
Bambina: "Mommy, is Santa real?" 
Me: "Well, what do you think? Have you ever seen reindeer fly?" 
Bambina: "No. And how does he deliver all the presents around the world in one night?" 
Me: "That's a good question. Do you think it would be possible for someone to deliver presents to all the children in the world in one night?" 

She didn't have an answer for that right away but the longer she thought about it the more skeptical she became. She was already a non-believer in Santa well before the following Christmas. I recently asked the Bambina if she was sorry not to have been able to believe in Santa for at least one or two years more. "No," she said. "I'm glad. I like knowing the truth."

Secondly, I try to encourage our kids be open to listening to new ideas and world views. I'm comfortable doing this because I'm also raising them to be skeptical. I've told the Bambina that she is welcome to explore religious beliefs if she wants. I've offered to take her to a church, a mosque, or any other religious place. So far, she's not interested. One of the Bambina's best friends at school is a member of the Church of Latter Day Saints. I've asked the Bambina if she would like to attend there one Friday (with me accompanying her). She said flat out no - she's not interested in three hours of church on her weekend!

Not all people agree with this approach. My good friend F, who is Muslim, thinks that our children will grow up with no moral compass or any notion of good or evil. She thinks that our children need something or someone to believe in in order to know right from wrong. To me, it is very obvious that our children know the difference between right and wrong. Whether we have a religious rule book or not, we know when our acts can hurt other people. And it doesn't take much reasoning to figure out that we don't want to be hurt, so we shouldn't hurt others, either.

My Christian friends think that our kids will still know what is right from wrong (they believe that god did give them a conscience, after all) but that our kids will lack larger meaning in their lives. I think my kids will define their own meaning. 

I love how living in Kuwait exposes our children daily to another major world religion.  There is a mosque right next door and we hear the call to prayer (very loudly!) five times a day (yep, at 4:15 AM, too). Most of our children's friends at school come from Muslim families. In the Bambino's Montessori school last year, during the Eid celebrations, the children learned all about the Hajj (the pilgrimage to Mecca that all Muslims are obligated to do at least once in their life). The teachers put a big black cube in the yard. The children pretended it was the Kabah and learned about the ritual of circling it seven times during Hajj. They also learned to roll and unroll the prayer mats and to recite the Arabic prayer. (We were okay with the Bambino learning the words to the prayer but told the teachers that we were not okay with the Bambino engaging in the actual prayer ritual of bowing prostrate on the prayer mats and praying). 

The Bambino (age 3) came out of his class one day that week and said to me "Mommy, I want to go to Macca and see the Kabah." 

I smiled. "Sure! If you want to do that one day when you're grown up, you can!." I didn't tell him that he would have to convert to Islam first. He'll learn about that later, if he wants. 

"But why do you want to go to Mecca to see the Kabah?" I prodded further.

"Because then we get to sleep in a tent!", he said.

"We're camping in the desert next week. You'll get to sleep in a tent then."

"Yay! I want to sleep in a tent!"

Phew. There's one request put to rest. Now if I could just getting him to stop calling mosques "castles". 

Judging Kuwait by its playgrounds

Since having children, I have learned about the importance of public playgrounds.  Playgrounds give children something to climb on, swing on, slide down, and run around.  But they're not just for children.  Playgrounds are a meeting place.  They are the place where you bump into other mommies and daddies and grandparents in the neighbourhood, where nannies can meet up to chat every day, and where your children get to meet other kids.  In our travels, I have met many people and made many friends in neighbourhood playgrounds and I have failed to meet people and been prevented from making friends in places where they were no playgrounds.

The number of play areas in a country as well as the state of a country's playgrounds says something about that country.  In Italy, for example, there aren't many public play areas at all (although this is changing) because Italians view the family unit as a pre-emptive force.  Children stay at home (or in the restaurant or wherever) with their parents and brothers and sisters (and maybe cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents).  The state has no role in entertaining children.  There is no room for a neighbourhood playground in this scenario.

In Madagascar, there are no public playgrounds, because the country is far too poor to think of spending public money on such luxuries. Children play on the street, in the dirt.  This might sound romantic but in reality it is not.  Their are no parks, so children play on the street where they breathe in noxious car fumes all day long.  Their clothes and bodies get filthy from the red earth, the children rarely bathe and their clothes don't get washed.  Disease spreads.  Asthma is common.

In France (or at least in Paris), the playgrounds are numerous and of good quality.  Practically every church or public square has some kind of a play area, and sometimes even a sand box.  There are also the major play areas in the Champs de Mars, the Jardin du Luxembourg, and the Jardin des Tuileries (including trampolines), to name a view, not to mention pony rides and merry-go-rounds (but you have to pay for those).  It is a convenience that I will never tire of boasting about.  Where is the first place we go when we hit the ground in Paris, once we check into our apartment-hotel?  The local playground!

In France, if any part of public playground equipment gets damaged, it gets fixed, promptly.  If the play equipment is starting to look worn out, the local city hall takes it all down and builds another play area.  All play equipment has a sticker on it indicating what age the equipment is appropriate for.  What do French playgrounds say about the French?  For the French, children have their own sphere of activity separate from their parents and extended families, and providing activities in that separate "children's sphere" is part of the job of the state.

Kuwait is interesting when it comes to playgrounds.  The country is stinking rich, and the weather is decent for playing outdoors at least six months of the year.  So you would think that this country would be the ideal place for lots of good playgrounds.  Unfortunately, this is not quite the case.  There are many playgrounds, especially on the Gulf Road, and many families frequent these playgrounds. However, all the equipment looks about 20+ years old and is badly in need of repair.  20+ years.  Hmmm.  That would take us back to before the first Gulf war.  So it would seem that before the Gulf war, the Kuwaitis were very keen to have lots of great space for kids and families.  Since then, they have left it all at a standstill.  None of it has been maintained and nothing new has been built.   Amazing how a war can affect the mindset of a people.

It's not only the run-down playgrounds that need a facelift.  The public hospitals are on shoestring budgets.  The beaches have been full of sewage for the past 10 years.  There is litter all over the desert....

What does the state of Kuwait's playgrounds tell me about Kuwait?  It tells me that while Kuwaitis, for whatever reason, no longer think that their country is worth investing in.  The war seems to have made them cynics.  After all, why build a playground when it risks getting bombed?  

South Africa - part 2: Just a Short Anecdote

I was pleasantly surprised to see this sign in the Two Oceans Aquarium in Capetown:

"Dads, change your baby's nappy here."  How likely would you be to see a sign like that in your country?  In France, unlikely.  In Canada, maybe.

In some places where we travel, the nappy-changing room is at least a separate room from both the men's and women's washrooms.   This is acceptable.

In other places, the baby-changing station has been placed in the women's washroom.  The person who made the decision to put it there was highly presumptuous, not to mention sexist.  Who says that it has to be me who changes the Bambino's diapers when we're en route?

This museum has gone the other way and pointed out dads in particular.  My brother would object and call this social engineering.  I say that changing stations in women's washrooms are already their own form of social engineering.  A little reverse social engineering never hurt anyone.

Cloth versus disposable around the world

Back in Canada when I was growing up, lots of parents used a cloth diaper service for their baby. Every week, you handed the truck driver your bag of dirty diapers and in exchange, you received a bag full of folded clean ones, all ready for your little one to sully.

When I was pregnant with the Bambina in France five years ago, I said to the Frenchman, "so I guess we'll just sign up for a cloth diaper service, n'est-ce pas?."

When it was clear that he didn't know what on earth I was talking about, I said "you know, the truck comes by every week and you hand over your dirty diapers and you get clean ones."

The Frenchman wondered at this point if I was not from another planet rather than just another country. "Zees does not exeest in France," he said. And he promptly went out to buy a jumbo pack of size 2 Pampers in preparation for the arrival of our daughter.

And at the time, he was right. Diaper delivery services didn't exist in France. So, imagine my surprise when I checked out the May 2009 edition of Parents magazine (purchased in Madagascar in August!) to find .... an article on cloth diapers! Not only do cloth diapers and diaper services now exist in France, they are actually becoming... dare I say it , trendy??

Of course, just as parents in the West are starting to consider cloth diapering as a serious option once again, arguments against using them are rearing their ugly head. In 2005, a study carried out by an advisory board to the UK Environment Agency concluded that cloth diapers had equal the impact of disposable nappies. I still don't believe it. The study assumed that you would be washing your nappies every day in 90 degree celcius water on the mega-long cycle and putting them in the dryer for drying.

Which brings me to the next point (for which I would like to thank Green Living Tips) - When you use cloth nappies, you can control how much you damage the earth - you can wash them every two or three nights only, you can wash them at 40 degrees celcius (totally sufficient), you can buy your cloth diapers used (why not? They're even more absorbant than the new ones), you can use hemp or bamboo nappies instead of the environmentally less friendly cotton ones, and you can dry them in the sun - the best natural disinfectant going.

You don't have these options when you use disposables.

Here in Madagascar and the rest of the developing world, avoiding disposable nappy use is even more important, for a few reasons:

1) Disposable diapers are expensive here.

2) You can only buy disposable diapers in packages of about 30, making it difficult to stock up. That's not an assuring situation when you consider that stores run out of stock quickly here. If you run out, you won't necessarily find more when you need them (or you might at least have to hit a few shops to find them). Also bear in mind that in the event of another coup d'état, you may not be able to shop at all for a few weeks...

3) Discarded disposible diapers contain human waste. Human waste that sits in landfills (especially landfills in developing countries) can contaminate the local drinking water with harmful bacteria and viruses causing intestinal illnesses, polio and hepatitis.

All that being said, I do put my baby in a disposable diaper whenever we are travelling and as his final diaper before he goes to sleep at night.