Berlinfusion

Snow at Last!

Mother Nature finally graced us with her snowy offerings on Saturday night.

The temperature had been dropping for a few days and reached -3 C on Saturday. Then, during the early evening snow started to fall. It coincided with the dog-walking time, so I took Kita out so I could fully enjoy the experience.

I haven't seen snow for ages! Yes, we had a little in Tokyo a few years ago but missed it last year due to a holiday. And I grew up on Dartmoor in Devon where we had proper snow most years, but mainly I've experienced 'city snow' - wet stuff that rapidly turns grey slushy and sad.

This was special snow. Not a lot fell - about an inch at most - but because it was so cold, it fell as ice crystals, all sparkly and tiny. The last time I saw anything remotely similar was during the blizzard of 1978.

Kita loved it! She bounced around in bemusement and joy, pouncing on snowflakes, snapping at the falling ones and sticking her tongue out to catch them.

The snow on the ground squeaked under my boots and twinkled and glistened under the street lamps. Nobody was out and about so I was able to make the all important first footprints in the snow. It made me ridiculously happy!

The snow was still there the next morning. Unfortunately Rhiannon has a very nasty cold so couldn't find the energy to go out and enjoy it.

Down by the lake more fun was to be had. Now the lake was totally frozen, with a few animal footprints criss-crossing the expanse of white. Probably the local fox. Tim went onto the ice and skidded. Kita was very puzzled indeed and kept staring at his feet, wondering if he was on wheels. Then she stepped out and did a fine impression of Bambi! She soon got her balance thanks to her furry pads, but overall, she is understandably very suspicious of ice.

Today the snow is still around... because the temperature has now dropped to -8 C! And it's forecast to get even colder as the week continues.

I do not like the cold. But I do love the snow so am learning (the hard way) what constitutes sensible cold-weather clothing. On this morning's dog walk my face and ears got very cold indeed - two hats and scarves tomorrow! And I think I need two pairs of trousers too; my down parka is rather short and my knees froze.

I do hope we get some more snow soon. It freshens up the view and my mood immensely.

School Uniform Not Required

I don't know why this school's no uniform policy seems so unusual to me - it's more common that I thought. And thinking back, my primary school didn't have a uniform either. Perhaps school uniform is a relatively modern, typically British thing?

After initial reservations about this, I'm rapidly and happily coming around to the idea. No more tricky school items to hunt down, no more overpriced and under-stocked single-distributor to deal with, no more

However, Rhiannon's wardrobe didn't really hold enough suitable clothes so we had to have a sort through and a shopping trip.

On our visit to the school, I made a point of checking out what the other girls were wearing so Rhiannon could fit in, if she so wished. Outfits were basically jeans, boots and jumpers. For most kids this would be fine, but Rhiannon doesn't really wear jeans, preferring the comfort and ease of leggings. She also, like so many other children, refuses to wear jumpers. She doesn't seem to feel the cold but she does feel the scratchy wool.

She'd obviously spotted some fashionable girls whom she wanted to emulate because when asked what she wanted to wear to school she promptly announced, "jeans and Converse."

When I was her age I wasn't on the ball with fashion at all. We were very poor so Mum made all my clothes. I vividly recall with utter horror the two bilious yellow trouser suits she made out of hideous 70's floral curtain material. My clothes were patched when needed - not with a piece of matching material  but with something bright and contrasting. Mind you, it was the 70's, so I guess that was fairly trendy. Even worse was Mum's solution to my growth spurts; she'd insert a wide band of contrasting material into the hems of my trousers.

I wasn't allowed to wear jeans either (Mum's rule) and didn't get my first pair until I was 14 years old and bought them with saved pocket money. Mind you, school rules didn't allow girls to wear trousers to school, let alone jeans.

Anyway, on Saturday we went to the Stern Centre in Potsdam to restock Rhiannon's wardrobe with clothes suitablele for her new school life. Jeans were the hardest things to buy for her, just because she's not used to the style. I spent far too long and far too many arguments in changing rooms with her and her newly discovered pre-teen attitude. But she's pretty cool with great style and I didn't need to veto any of her choices apart from short sleeved tops.

I'm shocked at the price of Converse hi-tops now though. They appear to be a lot more expensive here than in the US or UK. Personally, I find them very uncomfortable and I did try to warn her how hard they are to put on and take off but she wasn't having it so Tim gave in and bought her a pair.

When she returned home from school yesterday I asked her if they were comfortable.

"Oh yes, but they take AGES to take off and put on."

I did say "I told you so". After the hassle of the jean-buying excursion I felt justified.

Saying Goodbye

Rhiannon had left her PE kit and indoor shoes at her old school. We weren't really expecting her not to go back so hadn't bothered to collect everything.

As she finished school today at 1.45pm we decided it would be a good idea to drive over there and collect them while at the same time giving her a chance to say goodbye to her friends.

I let her teacher know we'd be around and received a message back saying,

"Sorry to hear that Rhiannon is leaving. She was a popular member of the class.
There was a stunned silence for about 10 minutes when I told the class, punctuated by a few genuine tears. It was very heart-warming actually.
The children would love to see her tomorrow for a final goodbye.
I hope she will be happy at her new school."

Tears? Oh dear.

Admittedly, it was a surprise to us that Rhiannon was able to start school immediately after her trial - and she'd started some subjects she really, really wanted to avoid missing, but I had assumed she'd told her classmates what she was doing. Apparently not. They had no idea she was changing schools. Oh dear, again...

Her classroom was empty as it was PE day but some of her classmates (boys) were next door. She handed out cards, received a couple in return and stood around bashfully for a few minutes. So I rescued her and we headed back out.

Then she decided we must go to the PE room to see the others and scooted off around the corner before remembering I had no idea where that was and came back to get me.

Loud music was coming from the room but it went silent as soon as Rhiannon went in. Everyone stared at her before her name was squealed out and she was bombarded by girls all hugging her. A couple cried. I mouthed an apology to the teacher for disrupting the class.

I began to feel a little choked up myself. I hadn't realised she was so loved by her school friends - we'd had no indication of it outside of school. And I don't think she realised it until today either. Even a couple of boys were doing that strange male thing of obviously wanting to hug her but fear of peer ridicule  held them back.

Rhiannon held it together though. No tears. Yet...

She said her final goodbyes to them and we left the PE room.

Then, "I must say goodbye to my babies!"

"Who?"

She meant the Year 1 children.

"And I need to say thank you to my German teacher too."

The quick visit was obviously going to take longer than I thought.

The German teacher was first. He was holding a class with some younger kids who, once again, all mobbed Rhiannon as soon as she entered the room. At one point she had three hanging off each arm!

Some lovely, kind words were said to her and about her.

I got something in my eye...

Rhiannon was still holding up!

Next was her "babies". The teacher there gave Rhiannon some quiet words of advice,

"No boyfriends until after your degree. If I ever see you with a cigarette in you mouth, even if you're 40, I will remove it. And if you drink too much alcohol, make sure you haven't got to go to work in the morning."

Fair advice, I thought!

I chatted with her while Rhiannon spoke to her "babies". But I noticed one pretty little girl was looking very upset indeed. Rhiannon hugged her. I pointed out to the teacher that there may be a problem in a moment and sure enough, both girls burst into floods of tears.

Teacher went to the rescue, I extricated a sobbing Rhiannon and we headed off the grounds for cuddles in the car. Rhiannon told me some of the touching things her "babies" said to her and I got something in both eyes.

The amount of love my daughter received in that visit was humbling and delightful.

If I hadn't been so sure that Rhiannon was determined to move schools, that experience would have had me doubting the upheaval.

A New Chapter

Rhiannon had a couple of trial days at her potential new school on Monday and Tuesday. It seems most international schools in Germany do this as a way to gauge the suitability of the child to the school, and the school to the child. Well, this is what they told me, anyway. The school will also asses her German language skills so they can allocate her to the correct class.

Although the school is only three kilometres away, it starts at 8am. And we haven't been able to sort out a bus yet, so this means I have to do the dreaded school run again.

Monday morning hadn't even dawned when we got up. And it was still dark when we set off. Ugh!

However, we were cheered by the first snow of the winter; it was quite a heavy fall of small flakes and for a short time, the world was dusted white. Sadly, it had all gone by lunchtime.

Rhiannon was delivered safely into the hands of the Admissions Officer and I left her to get on with her first day.

She has changed schools a few times and has shown absolutely no nervousness about it... until now. I guess it must be her age; she hadn't slept well the previous night and was rather troubled. But when the chips were down and she was actually at the school, she pulled herself together and got on with it.

At the end of the school day I went to collect her.

It was make or break time now; did she have a good day or not? If not, what on earth would we do?!

Anxiously I waited by the gates. She came bouncing out of the school gates with a massive grin on her face and the words, "That was the best day of my entire life!" Yes, she's a little dramatic...

She didn't stop talking about her day all the way home and once back was eager to show me her new workbooks - proper exercise books and a big folder. And then she insisted on doing her homework straightaway! Who was this child?

I couldn't quite believe what I was hearing. And then she said, "Mum, I have to interview you for my homework."

It turned out that the very first lesson of the day in her brand new school was about puberty! And for her homework she had to do a 'generational study' which entailed asking me about my puberty. That was interesting...!

What a massive relief, though. So far, so good.

Organisation wasn't quite over yet though. While we were sure she (and the school) would pass the trial days, it wasn't yet officially confirmed. And this meant having contingency plans in place.

We planned that she would return to her 'old' school for the rest of this week before starting at the new one at the end of January. Or even next week if at all possible. But Rhiannon was absolutely adamant, to the point of tears, that she wasn't going back there. A problem...

Tuesday would be spent sorting this out. I promised her I'd do my best to get her settled as soon as possible.

I spoke to the school and they were equally as pleased with Rhiannon and suggested she just remain there from now on. Fantastic! Then I had to pull out all the stops to let her old school and bus company know.

It was fun passing that news on to her at the end of the school day yesterday.

While I was there, I saw the timetable for their extra-curricular activities... and to my delight spotted that Aikido was amongst them! Let's hope there is space for her when they start again in February. They were all very interesting too, I can see Rhiannon signing herself up for many of them.

All in all, changing schools has (so far) been a resounding success.

There are a few aspects that don't suit me as well, though. The main one bothering me at the moment is the early start and end of the school day.

I really hate getting up at 6.30am and doing a school run. In the dark. I also loathe having to do a return school run at 2.45pm. I've lost a heck of a lot of my day - she used to be collected by bus at 8am and was delivered home at 5pm. And on Fridays she will finish school at 1.45pm! That's crazy! But it will be better for her and I suppose I will just have to find a way of rearranging my days somehow.

I'm still waiting for contact with the bus company and hope the cost isn't too high for us to take this option up.

And there is the sartorial aspect too - more about that another day.

 

School Visit Number 2

Continued from School Visit Number 1

School B's visit was scheduled for 2pm, so there was time for a spot of lunch. Unfortunately, I developed a pounding headache but had to continue. In fact, we were all so impressed with School A it was tempting to cancel our visit to the other school. But we didn't.

Our main reasons for continuing with the visit were that Rhiannon knows three children at this school and it follows a curriculum we are accustomed to. And it's good to have a back up.

The very long, low and frankly ugly, building was situated in a cul de sac with another school backing onto it; there was a shared playground. Just down the road was a brothel... (more about that another time!)

We were greeted by the Admissions Officer and swiftly taken to meet the Head of School. In his office we were told all about the number of different nationalities attending the school... in great, statistical detail. It was rather impressive. We had fewer questions about the curriculum with this school but more about changes the school is going through. Changes we've heard about via other parents of kids in this school. Questions were answered satisfactorily, but overall, I felt we'd been "politicalised" - the language was all 'spin' and little substance.

This school is absolutely full and we had been told there would be no spaces until September.

A tour of the school commenced. Every time a classroom door was opened, Rhiannon anxiously peered in to see if she could spot her friends. Eventually she was rewarded; and in rather spectacular way.

She stood open-mouthed and incredulous, staring at a boy near the back of the room. "Is that N?", she asked the teacher.

It was indeed "N". And at that moment he spotted her and nearly fell off his chair in astonishment! He exclaimed "That's Rhiannon! I know her from my last school!" Yes indeed, he was one of the children who left her current school at the beginning of the summer holidays. Not only that, but N was a lad who Rhiannon rather 'liked'...

Rather flushed, she peered into the next room and spotted the other children we know, plus an additional girl she knows from riding.

From the friendship side of things, School B was winning hands down.

Now we were in a bit of a quandary.

My head was no better and Tim and Rhiannon were also drained. So we went home to think about the options.

An hour later the Admissions Officer from School B called. Once again, Rhiannon's native English status was in demand and she was offered a place. To do this, the school increased the maximum class size. Interesting! She wanted to arrange Rhiannon's trial days there and then, but it was all too much so I said we'd think about it and I would call them in the morning.

When we'd all revived a little we had a discussion.

Rhiannon chose School A... thank goodness!

While she didn't exactly have the final word on the matter, it is important that she is happy at school. And she chose the one that Tim and I agreed on anyway, so everyone is happy.

I was initially a bit anxious that School A had an educational system that will be hard to continue if and when we move back to the UK. But I think it will work out OK in the end. Unlike many parents and all schools, I am not one of those people who think education is the most important thing in a child's life, although it would be good if she learns something. Her happiness is most important and she can always go back to education in later years. I've learned more since I left school than I ever did while I was there.

A happy ending (I hope!). I called School B and let them know we didn't want the place. Rhiannon will do her trial at School A next week and we'll take it from there.

And no more school uniform to find!

 

 

School Visit Number 1

Yesterday was surprisingly exhausting. We all found the experience totally draining but positive and extremely interesting.

We had appointments to visit two schools with a view to Rhiannon join one of them; School A and School B.

Both had their own 'pros' and 'cons' for us, but to go into them too deeply will expose more information than I’m comfortable with.

I will just detail School A in this post, with another entry for School B tomorrow.

School A is closest to home and situated in a fairly quiet, mostly residential area. The large building - or set of buildings - is strangely unimposing. Rhiannon liked the look of the school from the outside because it “looked like a proper school”. This wouldn’t necessarily be a ‘pro’ from me though.

The warm, funny and friendly Admissions Officer met us for a long, informative chat. We had more questions here than at School B because the curriculum is very different from the one we’re familiar with. Lessons seem to be research and project based, and student led, which I think will suit Rhiannon’s style of working. Lots of talk about public speaking and PowerPoint presentations, both of which are no problem at all for Rhiannon.

Then we were shown around. The set-up was impressive and vibrant. There was a huge library, several properly set-up science labs (Rhiannon’s face lit up like a beacon at this!) and a sunny canteen. School dinners are provided and included in the fees. To our surprise we discovered that two of the standard PE lessons are Judo and dance. What a novel idea. And another massive ‘pro’ for our list.

Like all German schools, there is no school uniform. For some time now, this has puzzled me but it was cleared up today: historically, uniform on German school-children has negative connotations... the Hitler Youth. Now that makes perfect sense.

And other aspects seem lax compared to what we're used to. For example, nail varnish can be worn as long as it's not chipped and untidy.

We were introduced to the teachers, all of whom were lively and welcoming. The music teacher instantly offered Rhiannon a place in the school choir and the woman would be Rhiannon’s teacher was very excited at the prospect of having a native English speaking girl join her class.

Initially we were under the impression that Rhiannon would skip a year in this system, going into a grade above, but it’s not that straightforward. We – using the English system – are used to year groups going by the child’s age on 31^st August (before the school year starts). So Rhiannon, who was ten in October last year, is one of the eldest children in her current Year 5. In School A the age groups go through a calendar year so she would be one of the youngest in her new year.

In September this year, she will move to secondary education, which will be a year sooner that she would in the English curriculum. This is good. I think…

Rhiannon was immediately offered a place at this over-subscribed school, with open arms and much enthusiasm - a native-English girl seemed much in demand.

It was arranged that she will do a couple of days trial next week so she can be evaluated for her skills and so on. And they've even said she can start straight away after that if we want.

We will think on this.

Then it was time to leave for lunch before heading to the next school, keeping an open mind as it's good to have a Plan B.

Changing Schools

We have made the decision to take Rhiannon out of her current school. Naturally, this decision hasn't been an easy one to make and has periodically kept me awake at night.

Thankfully, Rhiannon is happy and confident enough to change schools mid-year and her maturity about this makes it all so much simpler.

Why are we changing schools?

Ersatzschule

Back in July last year, we heard from another parent that the school was applying to become an "Ersatzschule" to receive more funding from the German government. This meant that many, if not most of the classes would be taught in German.

We found out about this major change of status too late to do anything about it and decided to continue sending Rhiannon there for the new term while we evaluated the possibilities.

In September the new School Head held a meeting about the Ersatzschule changes. I made notes.

It seems as though the process of change will be slow and won't be completed until 2019. However, the language of tuition will change, but in a staggered way, year group by year group. Ultimately, this would have little immediate effect on Rhiannon but she would need to be fluent in German - both spoken and written - within a year or two. As she is the only native English speaker in her year, and possibly in the whole of the primary school, this would be a tall order.

As yet, the school don't know how many subjects, or which ones, would be taught in German. Information is scarce, and the impartation of this information is pitifully atrocious.

Another reason we were reluctant to change schools last term was that Rhiannon was extremely happy there. But that has slowly changed over the past term.

Class Size

She is in a class of only ten children, when they are all there. While this was fine initially, over time problems have arisen as they only can with ten year olds. And with such a small class, there is nobody else to turn to when friends inevitably fall out. Also, those children have been there for their entire school life and are rather cliquey, not accepting of outsiders who have been to other schools in other countries. And quite frankly, a couple of her classmates are downright peculiar. I feel she needs more variety with her friends. Or more friends, full stop. Sleepovers have dried up completely. It's sad to see her all alone at weekends.

English Language

Another aspect of the small and national school population is that Rhiannon is actually losing her English skills. She's beginning to construct sentences in a similar way to a German speaking English and her vocabulary is diminishing.

English lessons (or Literacy as they're called nowadays) seem to be very basic as you'd expect for students of English as a Second Language. This may not be an accurate assessment, however, as it was vehemently denied at the Parent's Evening last term.

Lack of Learning

Other lessons aren't grabbing her attention at all. For example, her science lesson last week covered exceedingly elementary aspects that Rhiannon learned in Reception year. The only lessons she enjoys are French and German because she's learning new stuff.

Rhiannon never gets homework (which is fabulous, in a way) and we've never seen her school work, so we don't know for sure. But she doesn't seem to be learning anything at all.

The library is minuscule and contains very childish books - apparently.

She's bored.

After School Activities

She badly misses after school activities. For example, she would dearly love to find an Aikido class to join here to continue her favourite sport and reach her black belt. Unfortunately, the current school day is too long for her to do this. It finishes at 4pm and often she doesn't get home until 5pm. After leaving the house at 8am, that's a very long day. And no Aikido classes for children occur in the evening. German schools start very early and finish early, leaving plenty of time for other activities.

The school is too far away from home for her to participate in any of their after school options. Mind you, there aren't many to choose from anyway, and certainly nothing she's interested in.

There's more, but I've rambled on more than long enough already.

We cancelled the contract with the school at the end of December. Rhiannon will remain there until a place is confirmed at another school which may be as soon as the end of this month.

Today we are visiting two international schools. Both are very different from each other. We've already agreed amongst us all which one she will attend but are keeping our options open until we've seen both.

I've been filling in forms galore and sincerely hope the rest of her school days here will be happy and productive.

Wish us luck!

German Postage Rates... Again

Further to my post here about the ridiculous cost of postage here in Germany, I now have a little more information, and rather intriguing it is, too.

I had to post a few 'thank you' cards from Rhiannon to people in the UK. The cards are small (so she doesn't have to write too much) and slightly oblong in shape.

Small envelope that costs a LOT of money to post. And is classed as "too big"...

After queuing for ages at the post office, I was once again told the envelopes were "too big"! And once again, the cost was to be €3.45. This time, though, the staff member was more helpful.

Apparently, if I put the cards into BIGGER envelopes the cost will go down to 0.75 cents.

That's right - bigger envelopes are cheaper!

I was told to put them into "more rectangularish" envelopes: which made me smile. So I ascertained what size was acceptable and she sold me 0.75 cent stamps to go on them.

So I went home and put them into standard DL envelopes, readdressed them and popped them into a post box.

Hopefully they'll arrive at their destinations successfully, and relatively cheaply now.

A DL envelope, which is more "rectangularish" and therefore cheaper to send then the small "too big" envelope... are you with me?!

Failure to Start

Despite the efforts of Tim, Rhiannon and Kita I refused to get up yesterday morning.

It felt like everything had all caught up with me at once - Christmas and all that entailed, Mum's visit, a stomach bug that kept recurring and that I'd continued working through and general post-stress comedown. I was completely exhausted.

So I decided a long lie-in would do the trick. But it wasn't my day.

I'd just snuggled back down to snooze after Tim and Rhiannon had set off for the pony club when the phone rang.

It was the pony club owner. And she was a bit cross. As far as I could make out, Rhiannon was late for her ride. Mentally I shrugged. Why didn't she call Tim? He was in charge of that and communicated with her regarding start times (which change every week). I mumbled a bit, kept my eyes closed and let her rant away. Hopefully she would go soon and I could return to the Land of Nod.

But it was not to be... because then the doorbell rang.

Still holding the phone and listening to the ongoing tirade I sleepily made my way downstairs and answered the door.

It was Tim and Rhiannon.

I was somewhat puzzled as I hadn't looked at my watch so didn't know how much time had passed from when they said goodbye to me. Rather relieved, I thrust the phone at Tim so he could deal with the issue and unsuccessfully tried to shake myself fully awake.

Then I heard Tim say that the car wouldn't start.

That's how I felt! Is it catching? But the car hadn't had to do half the stuff I'd done over the Christmas holidays...

Being that it's a new vehicle, and Tim is super-expert at fixing things - especially cars - I knew that this was serious.

So I made tea and suitably sympathetic noises while Tim got on the phone to Mitsubishi in the UK who in turn contacted Mitsubishi here.

And then we waited.

Eventually a massive pick-up lorry arrived. With great skill and aplomb the engineers lifted the lifeless car on and took it away to car-hospital. As it's the weekend (and don't things always go wrong at weekends?) the garage isn't open so the car won't be looked at until Monday. They did lend us a little car in the meantime so Tim and Rhiannon could go out somewhere.

I took up residence on the sofa and there I stayed for the rest of the day reading magazines and watching TV. I feel much better for making myself rest.

But I wish there were engineers and a pick-up truck for me.

Then again, I wouldn't approve of the temporary loan of a substitute model.

 

New Year in Berlin

Happy 2012 to you!

Just a quick post on our New Year's Eve here in Berlin. As predicted back in May, fireworks were exploded everywhere. I still don't much like them, but can appreciate the pretty, quiet ones.

Tim and Rhiannon have become full-blown pyromaniacs though. Fireworks have been on sale for a while now - just small, 'gentle' packs with miniature pyrotechnics and unobtrusive "cracks". We've had a few sessions of 'exploding things in the garden' which makes them both very happy.

After Christmas, however, much larger items and packs were available from supermarkets. Finding them generally accessible was rather shocking to me; perhaps I'm behind the times (or ahead) but I thought fireworks should be sold very carefully.

Anyway, Tim bought several selections, nothing too outrageous. I was most impressed with the metre long sparklers. They took forever to catch alight but each lasted about five minutes. That's my kind of firework.

We had been invited to join neighbours at 11pm for a display so Rhiannon stayed up to see the New Year in for the first time. At the appointed hour, we wandered down the road but nobody was around, nor were they at home. Slightly disappointed and a little miffed, we decided to let our fireworks off in our garden.

There was no fear of affecting anyone nearby as the explosions emanating from the woods and streets around us cancelled out our meagre offerings. After that, we went upstairs to watch distant displays.

At midnight, the quantity of explosions increased dramatically... and continued until about 3am. Grr.

Thankfully, Kita was fine during most of the event but understandably got a little anxious when rockets started to come into our garden.

The next day we gathered a large bucketful of firework rubbish from the lawn; the streets around us were literally covered with the same.

Was it worth it? While fireworks obviously make many people happy, I still don't understand the attraction of spending a fortune on something that, quite literally, goes up in smoke.