In Barcelona children go to school from 9:30 to 5:00. At first I thought this was just Axel's school but one look at the 9:15 metro and sidewalks tells me that this is the schedule for most schools: the young people in Barcelona have backpacks on and are going places.
Lunch at Axel's school is from 12:00-2:00, where they have a multi-course meal with dining etiquette and decorum strictly enforced. It brings to mind that time in Belgium when a 10 year-old Leah attempted to eat a french fry with her hand and had said hand lightly smacked (though I can report that, despite strict treatment, she did like those lunches). Let's just say Axel is dining with a knife and fork at lunchtime these days.
After the leisurely meal Axel can choose to participate in a variety of activities. Afterall, they do have 2 whole hours. Yoga, Drums, Violin, Cinematography, Coding/Robotics/Drones are all on tap. Another option is to bring your child home at lunch, which is traditional, but we are leaving Axel there for the cultural experience.
In the US, children are too rushed at mealtime. Last year Axel and his friends developed a special springy/skip-like walk in order to beat everyone to the front of the lunch line without breaking the "no running" rule. I am sad to think of all the times my children spent their most of their 25-35 minute lunch waiting in line, only to have to wolf down the food and miss any chance at recess. And as for decorum, I used to volunteer at Leah's school during lunch and it was so loud in the cafeteria that one of the teachers actually wore earplugs.
As for lunch hour for Jon and I, well, it has been happening around dinnertime these days because our jobs are in time zones 8-9 hours behind us. We are definitely not working 9 to 5. I am lucky because several of my co-workers are early birds anyway so I can work 12-9. Jon, on the other hand, has the kind of managers that like to schedule 5pm activities, meaning Jon has become quite the night owl. We may need to implement siesta.
Barcelona at 2am is still quite a happening place. I can hear them out there. And if you are jet-lagged and up at 6am, half the people on the street seem to be still awake from the night before. I have yet to go out for one of those 11pm Spanish meals (actually missed one in Andorra where Jon and Axel were out eating from 10 until midnight). Maybe soon. Tonight it is dinner at home, at, um, lunchtime.
Guess what I am making:
The schoolchild, in his native habitat, reticent for Mom to be taking photos.
Lunch at Axel's school is from 12:00-2:00, where they have a multi-course meal with dining etiquette and decorum strictly enforced. It brings to mind that time in Belgium when a 10 year-old Leah attempted to eat a french fry with her hand and had said hand lightly smacked (though I can report that, despite strict treatment, she did like those lunches). Let's just say Axel is dining with a knife and fork at lunchtime these days.
After the leisurely meal Axel can choose to participate in a variety of activities. Afterall, they do have 2 whole hours. Yoga, Drums, Violin, Cinematography, Coding/Robotics/Drones are all on tap. Another option is to bring your child home at lunch, which is traditional, but we are leaving Axel there for the cultural experience.
In the US, children are too rushed at mealtime. Last year Axel and his friends developed a special springy/skip-like walk in order to beat everyone to the front of the lunch line without breaking the "no running" rule. I am sad to think of all the times my children spent their most of their 25-35 minute lunch waiting in line, only to have to wolf down the food and miss any chance at recess. And as for decorum, I used to volunteer at Leah's school during lunch and it was so loud in the cafeteria that one of the teachers actually wore earplugs.
As for lunch hour for Jon and I, well, it has been happening around dinnertime these days because our jobs are in time zones 8-9 hours behind us. We are definitely not working 9 to 5. I am lucky because several of my co-workers are early birds anyway so I can work 12-9. Jon, on the other hand, has the kind of managers that like to schedule 5pm activities, meaning Jon has become quite the night owl. We may need to implement siesta.
Barcelona at 2am is still quite a happening place. I can hear them out there. And if you are jet-lagged and up at 6am, half the people on the street seem to be still awake from the night before. I have yet to go out for one of those 11pm Spanish meals (actually missed one in Andorra where Jon and Axel were out eating from 10 until midnight). Maybe soon. Tonight it is dinner at home, at, um, lunchtime.
Guess what I am making:
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