The Story Part 3
A realistic representation of Solenne and I learning in the wild
Yesterday, I ended the first part of the story at around first grade. I was learning to read French and French culture and a bit of math. This was only about one hour out of the day. The rest of the time, the world was our teacher. Depending on the day, we would do activities like milking cows or fermenting various vegetables. One particular memory I have is learning how to butcher chickens. My only tip is not to let them go headless; they will run and make sounds.
At one point, I did go to "kindergarten" for a bit, but it was just a lot of games in the mud and some puppet shows, so I never really learned anything except the critical rule of sharing with others (man, that was the worst thing as a child, sharing toys). I remember the assistant teacher was the funniest; he would eat the dirty pies we made. I'm not joking; he would put the mud in his mouth.
Now, rowing is just about the only hobby one could have with this much training. This is a realistic assumption, but I once had several hobbies. One of them happened to be art.
When we lived in Vancouver, I was lucky to have not one but two neighbors who were professional artists. I posed as a muse for one of them in exchange for art classes where I learned to draw. That's when my peanut butter obsession started. Between posing for photos or staying still for a few hours as she drew (yeah, I'm not sure how 8-year-old me stayed still for that long), we would take a peanut butter break, which consisted of a scoop of peanut butter. That would become the highlight of my week. We later met our other neighbor, and she taught me more techniques.
My mom, the American parent, met my father in France during her year abroad. She had always wanted to move to France one day, so the conversation over the years developed into a move. But this move was not to France, it was to Luxembourg. I still don't know why they chose that country, but soon enough, we were unpacking our bags in the new apartment. My sister was around 2 then, and I remember a few very vivid memories of our time there. It became chaotic during the unpacking process, and boxes were put randomly into rooms. One particular kitchen box was put into my sister's room. At this point in time, my sister was going through a phase where she would strip off all of her clothes whenever she felt like it. This would happen EVERYWHERE, including in the isles of the supermarket, where she would then proceed to unwrap each Kinder Bueno toy egg. Anyways, back to the unpacking. It didn't take long for my sister to open the boxes in her room and, completely naked, cover herself in curry powder. It was a mess, to say the least.
When we arrived in Luxembourg, I was put into a Waldorf school. I didn't understand a word of the language. Soon, I changed to another school that was not Waldorf at all. My only memory was when the teacher decided that the only way to make 6-8-year-olds calm down was to put tape on our mouths. I told my mom what happened, thinking it was kind of funny, and she was shook.
That's about all I remember of Luxembourg, and within nine months, we moved back to the 2 trees house in Vancouver. It was a short-lived journey in the most random country in Europe.