A. takes the bus and will meet Dolores Umbridge

The boys, just last summer, on the rail trail.

N. getting ready to leave for school.

It occurred to me,yesterday morning, as I watched the epic deluge from our window, that it must be nasty to ride a bike without proper gear. Most of the people that I see riding bikes here don't resemble the bikers in our family. No head gear, for one thing. No fluorescent tapes, or lights. Nor biking shoes. Basically, the idea is that you jump on a bike and ride from point a to point b. 

I dunno, the whole thing is a bit scary. I say this as a former rider, with some experience outside spinning classes. Let me just brag a bit... from the time I was in conservatory until my older son was born, I was a bike commuter. First from the various suburbs of Boston that called home as a student (Belmont, Central Sq., JP) I could get downtown far more quickly than the Green or Red Line. Then, as a tour guide in the Loire Valley and in Burgundy (although in both cases, my lack of seniority meant that I drove the van to pick up stragglers transport luggage more than I actually biked!) I continued on as a commuter while living in Paris, proud of my ability to negotiate traffic around l'Arc de Triomphe, and secretly amused by the drivers who would roll down their windows to say "Jennie Longo!" Alas, after N. was born, I had to stop the intense biking: my hands were so swollen that I couldn't play the harpsichord any longer.

Brag over.

This is the first biker I've seen who actually stopped biking to chat.  

I still don't quite get the biking thing in the city, though. A friend spent the evening at the ER last Saturday for an infected cut (note: you can't get otc antibiotic ointment over here - I think that the pharmacies are great for prescription drugs, toothpaste, shampoo, and esoteric homeopathic pills, but the really important stuff, like the ointment, meh. ) and her comment was that she had never seen so many bike-related injuries: broken limbs, scrapes, and the odd concussion or two. I can see that. (see observation about clothes above.) People talk on their cell phones while biking, unaware that a bus is tailgating them. Women ride in high heels. People ride with packages in their arms over cobblestones. They wobble. They weave in and out of traffic packed with buses, cars, motorcycles, delivery vans,... A. is very angry that I won't let him on a bike in the city, but I think that argument is not one that he will win.

But back to the story....

I actually do get the reason behind the bike riding, I'll reluctantly admit. Who in the world would want to wait 15 minutes for a crowded bus, ride on that same bus for another 10, risking life and limb to a cowboy driver whose knowledge encompasses only "fast" and "stop" - only to find that the desired destination will be achieved by getting on the next bus because the bus that you're on has been "termine" midway through its trip because there is a "manifestation" (lots of people making a lot of noise over their grievance de jour) that is blocking the rest of the route? If a bike is handy, it sounds like a great way to get to where you're going. No fuss, no maintenance, not even expensive. Easy. And there's a lot of people who agree - up to 110,000 trips per day according to the Velib blog. (in French) That's a lotta people that aren't on the bus or in the metro.

Except when it's raining.

And so here's what happened: we went downstairs to catch the 62 bus that would take us to the 88 bus that goes directly to school. The 62 was late, because, well, it takes a long time to board 25 people at the same time that an equal number are getting off. And a long stop means incremental delays in service. We could have walked to the 88 stop - it's only 8 minutes away. But, it was raining - like a peeing cow, as they say here- and so Murphy's law prevailed once again. We arrived at the 88 stop just in time to see the taillights disappear down the road. The next bus was 17 minutes later, and voila, Alexandre was 10 minutes late for school. 

I didn't know this until he texted me at lunchtime. "Three kids have gotten beaten up on the playground and I've gotten a colle." Oh yikes. I immediately texted him back, "Explain." "Nothing serious. I'll tell you when I get home, don't text me again at school. I don't want my phone stolen." 

The email wasn't long in coming: 

NOTIFICATION  D'UNE RETENUE

 

 

Mme Katherine ,

 

J'ai le regret de vous informer que votre enfant XXXXX élève de la classe de 5ème 1INTERNATIONALE a été mis en retenue à la demande du  CPE CPE.

 

Durée et date : 1h00 le 08/10/2012 à 08h00

Pour le motif : Arrivée trop tardive, élève dirigé en permanence

Travail à réaliser : Recopier les verbes irréguliers d'anglais

 

Veuillez agréer, Mme Kxxx XXXXX, l'assurance de ma considération distinguée.

 

 

La Conseillère Principale d'Éducation

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Accusé de réception à retourner lors de la retenue

 

Rappel des faits :  1h00 le 08/10/2012 à 08h00 pour le motif : Arrivée trop tardive, élève dirigé en permanence.

Je soussigné(e),                                                    , responsable de l'enfant XXXX Xxxxx en classe de 5ème 1INTERNATIONALE, certifie avoir pris connaissance des faits indiqués ci-dessus.

 

Date :                                                                                  Signature :

Actually the good news was that A. didn't have to go to his singing class (the teacher began the class last week by making an example out of A. "What country do you come from?""Amerique""Ah, bon. Did your teacher teach you to not sing the right words there?" (A's comment, I was having a hard time with the pronunciation. "But don't worry Mommy, everyone hates her, and besides, I knew it was my turn coming up - she did the same thing to Lorenzo and Paul last week.") I didn't know whether to be more concerned about the mean comment or my son's cynicism. We ended up talking about how some people are just plain rude, and how to develop an effective comeback.

But seriously.... 5 minutes late AND you're not allowed in class, AND you're given an hour detention at 8am (meaning we have to leave at 7) to ...write out irregular verbs in ENGLISH??? I suppose I should be thankful that he didn't miss French.

From the teacher's (and even the other student's) point of view, it is a good thing to not have to worry about the class being interrupted with late arrivals. But this was a first infraction! It seems like the penalty is a little steep. Where's the leeway?  I got on the phone and managed to switch the penalty to another day after school, so at least we won't have to leave home at 7 am. And A. won't have to copy irregular English verbs, only work on homework. That's a good thing, I think, I hope. I would like to believe that it would be easier/more efficient to work at school rather than at home where there are many other distractions...

Rumor has it that A. got off lightly: that there are three teachers in the next grade up that make their errant pupils write 200 lines of text for each infraction. An hour before school, no exceptions. At least the blood quill is missing, and pupils are now allowed to use ball point pens, rather than Waterman's. And next week, the math class is actually going to get 3 computers. Ta dah!

As to being on time... maybe we should get scooters. But how do you scooter with a 20 lb. book bag? In the rain? At 7 am?