Channel crossing

One of the clear benefits to moving to London was always supposed to be proximity to continental Europe, the chance to survey the great cities of the old world, so many of which are a quick flight or even train ride away. The reality, of course, is that getting the kids out the door to the neighborhood playground is difficult enough; we simply have not gotten ourselves organized enough to pack everyone up for a weekend journey, especially to somewhere involving a passport.

Now, with the weather improving, and our routine getting a bit more established, we finally hopped aboard the Eurostar this weekend, for our first European weekend getaway. We went to Brussels, a mere 2 hours from St. Pancras station (which is stunning), to visit our friends the De Bonis, who we last saw back in October. And it was a fabulous time, replete with a visit to old Brussels, a modern dance concert (parents only), a feast of real Belgian frites, lots of hanging out time in the De Boni's great house and neighborhood. Sadie and Parker continued to get to know the different De Boni kids, with especially Sadie and Artiemy starting to hit it off (at moments!).

Traveling with these two still ain't easy. Although the train ride was 'only' two hours, it was an exhausting two hours of restraining/distracting/chasing Parker. I'm hoping that for our next such trip in a few months time Parker will be a tad less antsy (wishful thinking!) He also has trouble sleeping in new places and the first night was involved precious little sleep for Parker, Karen or myself. So we're all pretty knackered, but it was worth it!

Spring is springing

London may not have the same seasonal variety that we're used to back home, but the coming of spring is still a great time here. Daffodils are blooming, temperatures are creeping up and -- most welcome of all -- the days are starting to lengthen again. Suddenly I find myself walking to work, and returning home, in daylight. A zombie no more.

As I sat down to write this Karen just asked me, "What are you going to write about? Nothing's been happening". She has a point in that there's nothing too dramatic to report. But there's plenty going on. On the positive side, we've all been healthy. OK, Parker is somewhat roughed up having smacked his head on various occasions (under my watch) last weekend, but this is basically him being Parker, the perpetual motion machine.

Sadie is a handful these days, lots of fun but very strong willed, progressing well in potty training (with the occasional accident) and continuing to enjoy her nursery school. She is also happy with her reward for shedding her diapers: a purple scooter. It looks like we have sorted out her school for the fall -- I'll let Karen report on that.  

Generally we're all continuing to sleep much better in 2011 than we did in 2010. A major hurdle was crossed last weekend when we moved Sadie into Parker's room (now renamed the kids' room, with a 'princess bed' for Sadie). Although the move was a failure the first night (they both refused to sleep), by night 2 they had settled down and ever since the arrangement seems to be working well. They both seem to like sleeping in the same room, and now chat to eachother after waking up rather than howling for attention from us. There is some evidence (e.g. the bouts of obstinacy mentioned above) that Sadie needs more sleep than Parker.. we'll continue to monitor how it goes. On the positive side, we have our bedroom back.

Only one major negative headline, which is that with no warning some workers arrived one day and started assembling scaffolding around our house. It turns out the house exterior is being fixed up for the next few months, during which time we will be overrun with workers and lose use of our backyard -- probably for a significant portion of the brief summer. Serious bummer. We've bitched and moaned to the landlord and may get a small rebate on the rent, but we're still annoyed. Finger's crossed they meet the deadline of being done by late May -- or at least get close!

Nursery nightmare.

I've just visited the third nursery school in search of a replacement for the soon-to-be-closed Belsize Square Synagogue. As many of you are aware (are there "many of you" out there?) Sadie has been receiving an educational foundation in Judaism since we moved to Swiss Cottage. We've generally been pretty happy with the nursery school there; and Sadie seems to be eager to go there every morning. The board of governors for the synagogue notified all parents at the end of February that as of September 2011, the nursery would be shut down permanently. No explanation given. Just pack up your kid and go somewhere else. Easier said than done.

At home I would have taken this in stride....disappointed at yet another disruption in poor little Sadie's routine, but willing to make the effort to place her elsewhere. However, in London children are placed on the waiting list for the best nursery school at roughly the same time the umbilical cord is cut. So the nursery closure at this "late date" has put me in the position where I've had to scramble to call every nursery within a 1 mile radius, (for I refuse to schlep these two kids on the bus during rush hour every morning so that Sadie can glue macaroni to a plate), schedule visits, ask intelligent questions ("How does your nursery meet with the government requirements under the 'Early Years Foundation Stage' for children under 5?"), and generally plead and beg nursery directors for understanding of my predicament in this most unjust situation we've been placed in and could they please, please just grant us a space on their waiting list. Oh yeah, and here's the 50 quid I need to pay you for the privilege of applying.

The one I visited this morning exemplifies how outrageous the education system is here. This nursery is the Taj Majal of nurseries. In fact I think there may have been a 5 foot replica made of legos tucked away in the corner. It's housed in a newly-renovated abandoned church (and having suffered through a church service on Sunday for choir, this seems to me to be a better use for the Church of England). When I arrived at 8:45 there were no fewer than 7 "educators" setting up the room for the day in a chaotic frenzy of activity: right at the entrance was an educational display about Japan, tsunamis, and earthquakes - replete with a globe and an internet-ready laptop; in one corner a water table with floating tugboats, steamships, sailboats, dinghies, possibly even a replica of the Titanic; in another corner a child-sized kitchen with food, dishes, ironing board, dolls, costumes; suspended from the ceiling were stars and a working display of the solar system; but WAIT - LOOK OVER THERE! - car racing; a shaving-cream covered table; play-doh; easels with paint; blocksartsuppliesbookscrayonsmarkerschalkboardsstuffedanimals...and outside an elaborate bubble-making display...and upstairs a dance studio and next to it a reading nook with big fluffy pillows and sleeping mats. Phew! Frankly, I didn't want to leave. The lucky kid going there for the day was going to have FUN!

The negatives: 1) it costs about three times as much as any other nursery I've been to thus far - as well it should given the teacher-to-student ratio and the abundant supplies; 2) the school day is from 9 until 2 - quite a long day for a three year old, especially one so committed to taking her nap (God love her); 3) they don't accept children under three years old, so Parker wouldn't enjoy the benefit of going to school with Sadie, at least while we're here in London; 4) it's a bit farther than some of the other nurseries we've seen. OK, admittedly that's not a great excuse but it rains here a LOT and Parker refuses to use the rain guard on the stroller.

The positives: 1)FUN!FUN!FUN!FUN!FUN! 2) a clean, bright environment in an otherwise often-dreary city; 3) Sadie has two friends - one from ballet, and one from her current nursery, that will be attending there in the fall.

And I don't know if this is a positive or a negative, but I'm sure the people who send their kids there are the super elite of London who spend thousands of pounds on their 3-year-olds birthday parties and make hand-rolled sushi for playdates. (My apologies to Zsofi, if ever you're reading this - I know you had no choice. The pressure to measure up is unbearable.)

We do have another option, thankfully. A lovely little Montessori School around the corner from the synagogue has space for Sadie, starting in May, for three mornings a week, and two afternoons if we want them - which I don't (again, the nap...always a slave to the nap). And then in September she'll be a priority on their list for five mornings per week. They don't have a replica of the Taj Majal, but with the money we save on sending her there instead, we can go visit the real thing!

Back on the road

A few words about my 3-day trip last week to Nigeria, where I visited the commercial capital Lagos -- a sprawling, chaotic, dirty, noisy and wonderfully energetic city of 10m or so (feels like more) -- as well as the somewhat-more-refined political capital Abuja. This was my first work-related trip to Sub Saharan Africa (outside of South Africa) and was certainly the most intense "third world" city experience I have had. From the moment I, bleary-eyed at 6am, stepped out of the sealed environment of BA business class into the crumbling corridors of Murtala Muhammed airport, it was clear that my time inLagos would not be dull. The city assaults you (figuratively, sometimes literally!). People are everywhere, in a combination of frenetic motion and stillness (lots of people just hanging around) and everywhere surrounded by derelict infrastructure. I am told that most recent decent railroad in Africa north of Johannesburg is the east African line built by the British in 1910; as this indicates, it's been a long time since much was invested in Africa, and the city, bustling as it is, projects an aura of long-term neglect. 

My visit started off with a complication when the car I had ordered was not waiting for me, and of course there was no taxi stand where I could pick up a ride into down (indeed I saw no evidence of a taxi fleet in Lagos, although I there were a few taxis in Abuja). Here is an easy test for whether a country is truly an 'emerging market' or not; if a traveller flies into the airport for the first time, can he or she easily and safely get from the airport to a hotel? By this test Nigeria clearly qualifies as emerging. Standing at the airport entrance with a befuddled look on my face, I was clearly the white guy who didn't have a ride and quickly attracted attention of many peddlers. Fortunately my phone worked, so I ignored an increasingly vocal group of would-be chauffeurs and managed to contact my hotel and to track down the driver, who was in fact at the airport but was, they said, unable to drive up to the pick-up point. Reason unclear. I was directed me to wheel my luggage self-assuredly past the teeming crowds, through a gate, down an airport access road against traffic until I eventually got to another gate where my guy was indeed waiting, having a relaxed smoke with some other drivers.

Said driver greeted me, finished his cigarette and drove me into town at breakneck speed through the morning rushhour in a symphonic performance of horn honking, shouting and fist shaking that is doubtless very common in that part of the world, filled with swerves, sudden stops, and countless close calls (measured in centimeters). For me, the most harrowing aspect of driving in Lagos was actually how close the speeding drivers came to hordes of pedestrians walking along the road -- most of whom are simply trying to cross the street -- where a mistake of a few inches would mean a lost limb or worse. Somehow the game of brinkmanship always manages to resolve itself without harm to anyone.

I made it to my hotel, the Federal Palace -- said to be the best in Nigeria and up to the standard of a mid-market Marriott Courtyard (but at $350 a night!) -- and eventually met up with a few colleagues with whom I spent the next couple of days meeting companies (mostly banks -- but also a sugar refinery, 2 photos from this below) in Lagos. We then flew to Abuja where I spent a day seeing some government agencies and as well as the IMF. It was fascinating. Despite all of Nigeria's very visible problems I came back feeling optimistic about the place. I met enough smart, articulate, hard working Nigerians that seem committed to making the country work that I did have the sense there is a shot at making some real headway against Nigeria's historical problems (corruption, underinvestment, political turmoil). There are so many 'easy wins', like building a few power stations so the entire country does not need to rely upon diesel generators. Politics are probably most important, and given the turmoil in North Africa nowadays, as well as in countries even closer to Nigeria like Ivory Coast it is hard to make predictions with much confidence. However if Nigeria's April elections go reasonably well, the next few years could be an exciting time for the country. 

My final hours in Nigeria were a bit of a reality check against getting too optimistic. Battling through traffic in Abuja my driver took some creative short cuts (driving on dirt makeshift dirt roads parallel to the highway for miles) and at one point was ambushed by a 'policeman' (at least someone wearing a policeman-like uniform) who literally jumped in front of the car and then called his buddies over. Before I knew it several uniformed guys were standing around our car, another was sitting in the passenger seat; a few had large-looking guns. A prolonged negotiation ensued, during which my driver got surprisingly animated in making his case for innocence, seemingly unintimidated by the guns and at one point appearing to have won over at least one of the 'policemen'. After 30 minutes of this, I was starting to wonder both whether I would miss my flight and whether I might be in some danger. However at no point did anyone acknowledge my presence, much less threaten me, and in the end after 40 minutes of negotiations we were released, my driver having given up his driver's license, which he told me he would reclaim later that day for a 2000 naira fine ($15). I made my fight, and in the end it felt like a happy ending.