Those Were the Days

Fire day
As we drove back from spending Easter weekend in Maastricht, we passed hundreds (literally) of bonfires in fields and backyards. We thought this was a little odd, but it turns out that in Germany on the Saturday night before Easter, that's what you do - burn stuff. Happy Fire Day!













Pillow Fight Day
During a recent visit to Cologne (April 4th), we noticed the air was becoming increasingly filled with little fluffs (which we assumed came from trees or flowers). Walking back towards the Cathedral, we noticed more and more feathers on the ground and in the air (and in our lungs). And then, in the plaza in front of the cathedral, we saw hundreds of people engaged in a giant pillow-fight, ankle-deep in feathers and goose down from exploded pillows (and a few synthetic-filled pillows). City clean-up crews were standing at the sidelines, waiting for their turn to move in and start to clean up the mess.
Happy Pillow Fight Day! (www.pillowfightday.com)

Maastricht and Valkenburg

Marc here (I love ice cream).




















Karla and I got a chance to get away for 2 days while my parents were visiting. We drove 1.5hrs to Maastricht, and spent our time at a spa hotel in Valkenburg. The weather was beautiful (20~23 degrees and blue skies/sunny) and Maastricht is a beautiful, diverse city. It's in the Netherlands technically, but it's surrounded by Belgium and Germany.
We ate ice cream, shopped a cool flea market (and bought some antiques that made Karla's day), dodged bicycles in cobbledstones pedestrian areas, enjoyed the river Maas, and the usual 12th century Romanesque Basilica that you find in all nice European towns :)






















Valkenburg is mostly known for some castle ruins "the only castle in the Netherlands that's built on a hill", according to the tourist information. It turns out that it's also the only hill in the Netherlands :)

Underneath the castle hill, there is 800 years of limestone quarrying history (to build the castle and surrounding village). The resulting caves became a kind of tourist attraction in the 1800s, and were decorated with a whole series of carvings - they have also housed clergy escaping persecution in the 1700s, and more recently over 600 villagers for 6 days during the liberation of Valkenburg in 1945. There is graffiti spanning hundreds of years, including a series of profiles of American soldiers (and signatures, rank, and home city info). On a sad note, in 1993, two boys got into the caves somehow (they've tried to lock down every entrance), and were unable to find their way out :(
In one section of the caves, you can see where the limestone quarry intersected a well from the castle above - it's amazing to see how deep inside the hill you are you actually standing, when you look up the well shaft (and then down, even further). Good times!

Fear and Loathing in Das Spielplatz

Going to the Spielplatz gives rise to some surprising and contradictory feelings in me. First there's the fear and loathing (surprising) and then also contentedness and dread (contradictory).
So the contentedness comes in as I take in the beautiful sunny day, realizing I'm taking my children on an outing that is good for them and that they enjoy, but then, I dread the boredom of standing in the sweltering sun, chasing kids from one either dangerous or boring piece of equipment to the next. And also, sand in my shoes, and the walk home with whiny kids.
The fear and loathing is tied to the language/cultural barrier I experience on a daily basis, but even more acutely at the playground. I realized today that I find it necessary, (and helpful) to repeat silently, "I do not have the plague, I do not have the plague, I do NOT have the plague!" as I circulate at the Spielplatz. As much as I have learned in these few months of twice weekly language classes, I still can't converse with someone who doesn't have significant patience and/or an English education of some sort.* Strangers are, by definition, unknown, and as such, are generally out. So I stand in silence, smiling a LOT. I see Moms from the Kindergarten, but we don't do any more than smile since communicating is so difficult. I am hesitant to talk even with my own kids in English lest I give away my un-German-ness to those who don't know me already as "The Canadian" (as if the grinning idiot schtick didn't tip them off that I am "different").
By the time we arrive the benches are full, so I lurk by the tree, trying to keep sight of both girls. Or else I follow them around, hoping they don't meet a friend and make me go back to my tree. No really, when they meet a friend, I'm thrilled - they're integrating! They're having fun! That's good!
My ever-watchful gaze lands on some little boys and girls with big sticks, whipping them in the air, millimetres from each others' eyes. An attacked boy retreats to a bush where he yells loudly at the bigger boy, clearly distraught by his near blinding. And no one intervenes. Where are their parents? Should I step in? Perform a rescue? But who to save, as the hunted becomes the hunter.
Truth is, playground etiquette confuses me in my own land, never mind in another culture. At least this playground is fun, and not too dangerous. High platforms, huge gaps between stairs, loads of moving parts. What could go wrong?


*Note: Most Germans have had English in high school, but apparently the classes are very boring and stressful without much speaking practice. They tense up immediately upon realizing that I speak "nur ein bisschen Deutsch".

Die Neue Spielplatz!

We have a new playground! (Spielplatz).
Over the past week, the old decrepit equipment at our local playground disappeared. The only clue that something good was going to happen was that 2 new benches were installed. But now, just in time for our first full sunny weekend since the fall, a whole bunch of new playground stuff was installed! The whole neighbourhood was out in force, watching their kids play on the new stuff. It was really fun, because it`s been a very grey couple of months, and now it`s sunny and everyone is out and about.
We know many of the parents and kids because they also attend our neighbourhood Kindergarten - so that just adds to the feeling of community.

This past week, Lia had to take a standardized German langugage test (every pre-school kid needs to take it) and she passed with flying colours (better than some of the native German-speaking kids - can you tell that we`re proud? :)

Emergency Preparedness 101

You never really expect that you'll see someone's fingernail pulled out (unless you watch the show 24 a lot), much less your own child's. But that's what happened this weekend. Poor Kaia got a heavy wood lid slammed on her hands. The resulting injury didn't actually break any of her fingers (although they didn't look too good), but the middle finger of her left hand was hurt the most: Kaia's fingernail was ripped right out (!)

Yes, it was as graphic and terrible as you could imagine. We got Kaia to the hospital to have her finger bandaged and X-rayed (and to update her tetanus shot), but before we got there, things were a bit crazy. Every piece of gauze and tape in our first aid kit is designed for grown-ups - so bandaging a tiny, tiny hand (while the child is flipping out) was a big challenge. It also turns out that opening bandaids while you`re shaking is way harder than it should be!
The German health care system has been awesome (as usual). Kaia was seen and treated within 10 minutes in the ER (although getting the X-ray took longer because it was lunch time). We've been to a pediatrician once already to rebandage everything, and we have several more appointments booked.
Kaia is holding up very well and didn't need any painkillers after the first 12 hours or so. It's hard on her parents though... :)