The end of year has turned into a Spectacle Debacle (why doesn't that rhyme?). Gigi's hip-hop show was held on June 3, but the teacher never sent home a note, e-mail, or even text to give us details. This was exacerbated by the fact that Anthony normally does hip-hop pick up but doesn't speak French well enough to know what's been said to the parents. Turns out it was a tiny theater, and we were supposed to buy tickets weeks in advance to have any hope of seeing it. I managed to sneak into the dress rehearsal and only avoided getting kicked out by sounding really heartbroken and speaking with a purposely bad French accent, reckoning that I was more sympathetic as an obvious newbie.
As it happens, we have been informed (as of two weeks ago) that we have a chance to see her dancing at La Fête de la Musique (nation-wide music festival) today at 7:30. It is outdoors, at the Place d'Italie, which is across town from the Place Renee Vivien, where it has just been announced (as of yesterday) that I am peforming with my hula troup at 6pm. So our visitors from San Francisco run with us from one dance show to another.
You might assume this lackadaisical approach to scheduling is because it's hip-hop, or hula, two cultures not exactly known for their Swiss-like precision. But the girls have also been rehearsing all year in after-school theater classes for a show whose date was announced only at the beginning of June. We -- along with most of the children and families in the theater program -- believed the show was supposed to be in early June. Instead it will be June 28, during the one week when we will be in Provence with our visitors. Pippa cried for hours when she realized she'd worked so hard all year for nothing.
The reason we decided on that particular week for Provence was to be here for the girls' Tahitian dance end-of-year show, which was uncharacteristically extremely well organized. They informed us of the June 23 date months ago, with multiple written reminders and links to buy tickets. Unfortunately, it seems they forgot to confirm the rental of the theater with the theater itself, and we were informed as of last week that it's been postponed till September since there is now no performance space available.
Lest you think we bring this on ourselves by being Americans who are nuts about driving their kids around to after-school activities, you should know that our French friends send their daughter to painting classes, twice-a-week choir inconveniently located outside the city, Catechism, and ballet -- and they also have a toddler and an older son who does some of those same activities, some different, and also professional theater, for which they drive him to auditions, rehearsals, and shows. Nearly all of our French friends have similar schedules for their kids, making finding time for playdates very difficult indeed. And from the picture below, you can see how many families are driving their six- and seven-year old girls to gymnastics. And no, they're not all American kids. Of these, I'd guess no more than half a dozen are non-French.
Luckily, the gymnastics coaches have gotten better throughout the year about informing us when our children are needed for special events. In the Paris-wide competition in early May, Pippa's team is on the top stand, 1st place. At regionals at the end of May, they get 3rd place. I would say "Oh, how the mighty have fallen," except that in this case, getting any medal at all in regionals is a huge accomplishment. Normally, the Paris-based teams don't even place at regionals, because if you think us city-folk are neurotic about our after-school activities, just take a gander at the suburbanites. They practice more frequently, and longer, and it shows! Well, our urban hipster kids are too busy taking in operas and appreciating masterpieces at world-class museums for that.
I like that they start competitions relatively early. The girls will quickly learn that they will win, they will lose, they will be at the top of their game, they will perform horribly, and that no matter what, life will go on. In the meantime, since it's their first competition, there are some interesting lessons and discussions. Pippa, who comes away with a gold, is jealous of her friend who not only wins the team gold medal, but also a rather impressive trophy for having the highest individual score of those born in 2005. Pippa is happy with the gold, yet knows that she was the weakest link on her team and, therefore, that her score didn't actually count. It takes some re-working to get her to feel proud that this means she was placed on the advanced team and, also, that by going first and setting the expected team "low" score as high as possible, she drives up the scores of her teammates.
And then, on the other side, Gigi's team in the older bracket "only" gets a bronze medal, yet she is the highest score on her team (not for her age city-wide, however). She personally did extremely well -- graceful, consistent, and strong. But she, naturally, is jealous of her sister's gold. So it takes some whispering in her ear to make sure she understands we're proud of her performance, effort, and good sportsmanship, regardless of the color of her medal.
[Photos below: left side Gigi; right side Pippa]
It is true that our girls are in a class of twelve girls, pictured below warming up, in which half are anglophones (Americans, Brits, and Canadians). However, this is highly unusual and, in general, even at our gym -- which is probably one of the most international gyms in the country -- usually there are only one or two non-French kids in any given class, if that many. So it's also the French parents bringing their children two, three, or four times per week to the gym. Often, parents have two or more different kids in the gymnastics classes that meet at different times or days, so that I know of some parents (yes, even French) making round-trips as many as eight times per week.
Pippa's friend and teammate who wins the individual, by the way, should be in some pre-Olympic training camp, except that a) her parents are not obsessed enough to send her to one and b) she wants to be an astronaut someday. We have already established that as an astronaut with gymnastics training, she will be able to beam back by satellite some exceptional zero-gravity moves.
Sign-ups have already started for next year's activities. We are thinking of adding in fencing and guitar/ukulele lessons. And so, the madness continues...
As it happens, we have been informed (as of two weeks ago) that we have a chance to see her dancing at La Fête de la Musique (nation-wide music festival) today at 7:30. It is outdoors, at the Place d'Italie, which is across town from the Place Renee Vivien, where it has just been announced (as of yesterday) that I am peforming with my hula troup at 6pm. So our visitors from San Francisco run with us from one dance show to another.
You might assume this lackadaisical approach to scheduling is because it's hip-hop, or hula, two cultures not exactly known for their Swiss-like precision. But the girls have also been rehearsing all year in after-school theater classes for a show whose date was announced only at the beginning of June. We -- along with most of the children and families in the theater program -- believed the show was supposed to be in early June. Instead it will be June 28, during the one week when we will be in Provence with our visitors. Pippa cried for hours when she realized she'd worked so hard all year for nothing.
The reason we decided on that particular week for Provence was to be here for the girls' Tahitian dance end-of-year show, which was uncharacteristically extremely well organized. They informed us of the June 23 date months ago, with multiple written reminders and links to buy tickets. Unfortunately, it seems they forgot to confirm the rental of the theater with the theater itself, and we were informed as of last week that it's been postponed till September since there is now no performance space available.
Lest you think we bring this on ourselves by being Americans who are nuts about driving their kids around to after-school activities, you should know that our French friends send their daughter to painting classes, twice-a-week choir inconveniently located outside the city, Catechism, and ballet -- and they also have a toddler and an older son who does some of those same activities, some different, and also professional theater, for which they drive him to auditions, rehearsals, and shows. Nearly all of our French friends have similar schedules for their kids, making finding time for playdates very difficult indeed. And from the picture below, you can see how many families are driving their six- and seven-year old girls to gymnastics. And no, they're not all American kids. Of these, I'd guess no more than half a dozen are non-French.
Luckily, the gymnastics coaches have gotten better throughout the year about informing us when our children are needed for special events. In the Paris-wide competition in early May, Pippa's team is on the top stand, 1st place. At regionals at the end of May, they get 3rd place. I would say "Oh, how the mighty have fallen," except that in this case, getting any medal at all in regionals is a huge accomplishment. Normally, the Paris-based teams don't even place at regionals, because if you think us city-folk are neurotic about our after-school activities, just take a gander at the suburbanites. They practice more frequently, and longer, and it shows! Well, our urban hipster kids are too busy taking in operas and appreciating masterpieces at world-class museums for that.
And then, on the other side, Gigi's team in the older bracket "only" gets a bronze medal, yet she is the highest score on her team (not for her age city-wide, however). She personally did extremely well -- graceful, consistent, and strong. But she, naturally, is jealous of her sister's gold. So it takes some whispering in her ear to make sure she understands we're proud of her performance, effort, and good sportsmanship, regardless of the color of her medal.
[Photos below: left side Gigi; right side Pippa]
It is true that our girls are in a class of twelve girls, pictured below warming up, in which half are anglophones (Americans, Brits, and Canadians). However, this is highly unusual and, in general, even at our gym -- which is probably one of the most international gyms in the country -- usually there are only one or two non-French kids in any given class, if that many. So it's also the French parents bringing their children two, three, or four times per week to the gym. Often, parents have two or more different kids in the gymnastics classes that meet at different times or days, so that I know of some parents (yes, even French) making round-trips as many as eight times per week.
Pippa's friend and teammate who wins the individual, by the way, should be in some pre-Olympic training camp, except that a) her parents are not obsessed enough to send her to one and b) she wants to be an astronaut someday. We have already established that as an astronaut with gymnastics training, she will be able to beam back by satellite some exceptional zero-gravity moves.
Sign-ups have already started for next year's activities. We are thinking of adding in fencing and guitar/ukulele lessons. And so, the madness continues...
1 comment:
Je suis très fier de mes nièces!
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