City Boy In The Country

Belgian fields and Belgian skies

We're approaching the halfway point of summer this week which begs the question of where or where has summer gone? One minute the school year was winding down and now scouring supply lists and preparing for the next one. But because it is summer, we've also been doing all sorts of summer time activities. There have been trips to zoos and museums, hours upon hours spent upon the playground with friends, story time at the library and sleeping in and hanging out at home. And of course no summer would be complete without camp.

Last summer Sidney attended a wonderful day camp on the coast of Maine. He paddled in the tidal pools of Penobscot Bay, played games I remember playing as a child and made a whole new bunch of American friends. Hesitant at first, he quickly came to love everything about this all American camp and was sad when it ended. So this summer I wanted to find a similar experience for him here in Belgium.

Growing up in a rural area some of my fondest childhood memories were just going outside and playing. This was back in the days before helicopter parenting, overly programmed schedules and the incessant need to have every activity be aligned with the standards of learning. It was a time of free range parenting before the term became a stigmatized phrase. Summers were all about playing in the fresh air, letting out imaginations guide our activities and simply being children. Our backyard was spacious and emptied into a deep woods filled with trees, paths and unlimited opportunities for exploring. Despite our best efforts, I realize how foreign this whole concept in Sidney's world. A large part of that is the result of his immediate surroundings. In Albania out house sat behind a high, barb wire topped concrete wall and lacked any green space. In fact, safe green space was virtually non-existant in our neighborhood. Here in Belgium our front steps empty onto the street and while we have a small walled back garden (or yard), it is just that, small. There is a patio, a patch of grass and ivy and rose covered walls. It is lovely but not exciting to a five year old who has already lost too many balls over the wall. Neighborhood playgrounds provide some opportunities for running and playing as do after school sports, but all of these activities are so clean, orderly and structured.

Getting to camp is scenic

We are in fact raising a little city boy. He can navigate the narrow cobblestone streets of our neighborhood with ease, is cautious when it comes to crossing a street and is a pro at riding public transportation. But take him into the woods and he might as well be in a foreign land. The first time he saw a real expanse of green grass he gazed at it in astonishment and asked if he could walk on it. And this point was driven home earlier this spring when on a light hike through a nature preserve, Sidney took off running through the grasses and low lying branches spanning our paths. Repeatedly he stopped what he was doing to tell us that he was having so much fun exploring, playing solider and running through the woods. He then informed us that we needed to have trees in our own backyard for him to play in. What he was describing to us was what we had both taken for granted growing up yet was such dream for him.

By pure chance it was only a couple of weeks later that I heard about a day camp here in Belgium that sounded intriguing. Located in the Belgian countryside the small camp offered children the opportunity to be children. Campers would play in the woods and fields, learn about baby animals on the adjacent farm and generally spend their days playing. And as a bonus, while the camp leader and a few of the counselors spoke English, most of the day was spent speaking French. It sounded like just what we were looking for. Sidney and I visited one afternoon, both fell in love with what we saw and quickly signed up for a few one week sessions.

The happy camper set for another
rainy and mud filled day

So over the coarse of the past week Sidney has been going to what we have dubbed farm camp. In true Belgian form the weather this week has been cool and damp but armed with galoshes and raincoats, camp is going on. The kids are playing in the woods, watching baby chicks grown and playing in a magnificent tree house. They are "free ranging" in the best sense possible, exploring the world around them and simply being kids. Sidney is coming home covered in mud but declaring each day "the most amazing day ever." He's tired when I pick him up--falling asleep on the ride home each afternoon--but in the morning he bounces right out of bed and is ready to do it all over again.

I do wish the camp was located a bit closer to us as I am spending two hours a day driving him back and forth but I am discovering Belgian villages and countryside that I never knew existed. The rain only seems to be a damper for me since it isn't bothering Sidney one bit. I cringe a bit that we are spending money for him to experience the being a kid that we took for granted outside of our backdoors as children, but times have changed. What hasn't changed, however, is the need for kids to be kids, for them to use their imaginations in their play and to explore to their heart's content. It all makes for an amazing day. And that is simply priceless.

Wordless Wednesday: Island

Wordless Wednesday: Sunset Over The Ionian

Wordless Wednesday: Water So Clear

A Respite From The Battlefield: Tea At The Talbot House

Children receive their own
tablet to guide them through
the grounds

War is ugly. Regardless of the era, fighting day in and day out is a grueling proposition that quickly takes its toll on the soldiers in the field. Any respite from the fighting is welcome and during the bloody days of World War I, the Talbot House served as just such a refuge for British soldiers on the front line. The Belgian front, and the area called Flanders Field, saw some of the worst fighting during the War but the tiny town of Poperinge, located hear the French border in the far western reaches of Belgium, escaped relatively unscathed. Although it is adjacent to Ypres, Poperinge was part of the unoccupied region of Belgium and thus served as the hub for British forces. And within this pocket of calm sat, and still sits, the Talbot House, a refuge that is referred to as "Every man's house".

Militaries are perhaps one of the last bastions where rank clearly matters; the division between the enlisted and the officers is set in stone with fraternization between the ranks discouraged if not outright prohibited. Traditionally each group has their own pay scales, housing and social clubs.The Talbot House, however, broke with this tradition and served as a respite for all soldiers, regardless of rank, thus getting its moniker.

The Talbot House was built in the 18th Century and was the home of a wealthy banking family before it was hit by a German shell, forcing the family to flee to a safer location. The British army rented the house as an alternative to more controversial respite sites in the town. Talbot House as it is known today was founded in 1915 by two Army chaplains, who for the next three years welcomed soldiers into their little piece of calm between the storms. They set about creating a homey atmosphere, complete with a tranquil garden, lounging spaces, a spacious dining hall and clean sleeping quarters in which soldiers could relax.

Sampling the tea. The verdict?
Delicious!

Today visitors are welcome to explore the exhibits, grounds and partake in the English tradition of tea in what is the original mess hall. The museum is not large but it is filled with interesting and moving displays that provide visitors with a glimpse of what life was like for soldiers enjoying a brief R&R. And this museum welcomes the youngest guests with their own electronic tablet that guides them through the grounds on a type of scavenger hunt. You can look through numerous photographs, documents and relics from the war and visit the former bath house which now hosts temporary exhibits. During our visit we saw an exhibit paying tribute to military chaplains, both allies and foes, from the Great War to today's ongoing fighting in the Middle East. And every guest is invited to sit in the dining hall and partake in a cup of tea served by the jolly hosts. In true British form, the tea is steeped from loose leaves and served in china cups around communal tables. After tea you can take in the ornate details of the sitting rooms then climb the very steep stairs to see the sleeping quarters and the top floor chapel. (A small number of rooms are available for overnight accommodations although a peek into them revealed rather narrow and uncomfortable looking beds). But my favorite part of the museum is without doubt, the garden. Small but well laid out, the garden has  water features, benches and lots of shaded grassy spaces that invite relaxation and meditation. It is easy to imagine soldiers sitting and laying in the walled garden and momentarily trying to forget about the outside world. And had it not been for the rain, we too would have sat in the garden to contemplate.

So when you are in this corner of Belgium take time to visit the Talbot House. It is a tribute to war unlike any war museum I have visited. Stroll the gardens, explore the house and enjoy a cup of tea. If you are of British heritage, or know someone who is, search through the database to see if your relatives were one of the thousands who sought refuge there during the War.

If you go:
The Talbot House
Gasthuisstraat 431-B 8970
Poperinge, BELGIUM
+32 57 333 228
info@talbothouse.be
www.talbothouse.be

Open Tuesday-Sunday 10.00-17.30
Adults 8 Euro, under 7 FREE

Wrapping It All Up

The end of the school year is rapidly coming to a close here in Belgium and as such, the procession of projects, art work and papers are making their way home by the armful. While I feel as though I'm being inundated with paper that we must keep ("because it is all important work"), the process has been enlightening and has provided me with insight as to what Sidney has been doing all year. Because up until this point, with the exception of a few rare glimpses, I've been pretty much in the dark.

I've loved our experience with Sidney's Belgian pre-school. While many things are different and what I call quirkier than what I would expect from an American school, he has been happy, has made friends and has been fortunate to have strict but loving teachers. And most importantly, after a year and a half of attending, he professes to love school and is sad that the year is winding down. Communication between the school and parents has been virtually nonexistent, however, so I've struggled to figure out exactly what Sidney is learning or doing on a daily basis. (Despite seeing his teacher twice a day communication is essentially limited to notices that are put into his communication notebook. If we have concerns we are encouraged to raise them but rarely are issues actually brought to us as parents. Its a much different approach than the American over involved, over communication approach and I've adjusted for the most part. It appears that this is just the Belgian way). But, with the avalanche of papers coming home I'm getting a fuller picture of what Sidney has been doing all year and I must say, I'm quite impressed.

There is something to be said for receiving an entire year's worth of school work at one time. I can clearly mark Sidney's progress from September through June, watching his handwriting go from shaking and quite undecipherable to clear and confident. The same goes for his artwork; paintings and drawings from the spring are clearly identifiable. But what has impressed me the most is what he has clearly learned. His lessons are entirely in French, leaving me to wonder how much he is able to read and write. After perusing the pile of papers, my answer is that yes, Sidney can read and write in French at an ability clearly beyond mine. But it is the way he has learned that I'm most in awe about since it is a world away from the Dick, Jane, Sally (Spot and Puff) characters I learned with. Last fall the focus was on the outdoors with the class taking a field trip to some Belgian caves. The lesson clearly extended beyond the day at the caves since Sidney brought home intricate work where he labeled the components of caves as well as trees, leaves, mushrooms and plants. All of this was done in French of course and as we reviewed his work he reiterated what I was looking at by reading each label in perfectly accented French. Fall gave way to winter with the Christmas and Carnival holidays being diagramed. Spring brought snails and tadpoles as well as a several month unit on Vincent Van Gogh and Mons 2015. Each lesson included art work, writing exercises in both printed and cursive script, word searches and crossword puzzles and activities testing spacial and hand-eye coordination. All in all, its quite impressive. Back in September I never would have thought that my son would be able to correctly diagram the anatomy of a snail, discuss the lifecycle of an egg, and correct me when I confuse stalagmites with stalactites.

So now my little boy in on the verge of entering first grade (in a bi-lingual French-English program this time). Sidney has visited his new school, met the principal and asked the all important question of where he will eat his snack and lunch. (He also asked, in French, how much of his day would be spent speaking French and how much would be spent speaking English). But first we have six short weeks of summer vacation. It will include French camp, a three country family road trip and time to simply hang out and enjoy living at a slower pace. We can't wait.

Wordless Wednesday: Summer Dreaming