my favorite thing about xmas in england: crackers

gramps, ever the anglophile, says "ooooh.  i've always wanted to wear one of those cracker crowns.  i'm going to wear it all christmas day."  he does. 

throughout the week, we see loads of xmas parties in pubs and restaurants.  all participants -- ALL -- wear their cracker crowns throughout.  

our fun with crackers stems not from the gift within, but from the unpracticed american struggle to pull so that it pops, from sitting at the table amidst a rainbow of silly paper crowns, from trying to guess the answers on the paper riddles that fall out along with the crown.  i love it.

christmas carols at the royal albert hall

we all find ourselves a bit  awed by the royal albert hall, where we go to listen to and sing along with the london philharmonic and two local choirs.  the christmas concert consists of lots of songs we know, some sung in different melodies, and some songs we don't know but which everyone around us knows.  we learn that the brits really sing out when they sing (this is reinforced at christmas eve service, when the reverend enjoins us to "sing raucously") we also learn that the most popular british carol is "in the bleak midwinter," which is as ponderous as the title implies.  the best part of the concert for chris and the kids is when they sell little tubs of ice cream to be consumed in-seat.  the best part for grammy, gramps and me is when the orchestra first strikes up and everyone around us bursts into "the first noel."  thank goodness gramps has a hankie.

the interrogation of mrs. claus

santa and mrs. claus set up shop along the south bank, so we brave the tourist traffic for the christmas market and hope that it's worth the 15 pounds per child to decorate cookies with mrs. claus.  

joe causes us a further bit of concern about the wisdom of booking this experience.  as an elf ushers joe, tally, grammy and i into a charming little tent with sweetie-lined shelves and enamelware on the cardboard aga,  joe gives him the squint-eye:  "you have pointy ears like an elf, but you're too tall." when we see that mrs. claus is quite youthful, grammy sends me a this-is-a-bust look.  i wonder if we should abort before xmas is ruined for three-year-old tally.

after mrs. claus sorts out the cookies and sweeties for them to begin their work, joe fires off a barrage of questions: 

"do you really have telephones at the north pole?"

(he's seen pictures and commented to me numerous times about the lack of phone lines running across the tundra)

"why don't you ride in the sleigh with santa?"

"why does santa put presents under a tree?"

mrs. claus' youth belies a steely and unflappable demeanor.  she deflects quickly -- wax-on, wax-off -- without missing a beat:

"we do have telephones.  some children just can't post their letters in time and we need another way for them to contact us."

"i can't ride in the sleigh, there's simply not enough room."

to which joe replies, "but elves fit.  what about on top of the bags?"

"but who would fix them their breakfast?"

"what do you make for breakfast?"

"pancakes and bacon."

"santa puts presents under the tree because it is a special place.   can you imagine how santa would know where they'd go if there wasn't a tree?"

joe halts his line of questioning then and puts his energy into decorating his cookie.  i smile at grammy and mock-wipe my brow.  mrs. claus saves christmas, at least this year.

auld lang syne: we miss fietsen (bike riding)

Chris gives me a choice when we first arrive in Holland: either Bakfiets or car. I opt for the Bakfiets (literally "basket bike") and never regret my decision. My Bakfiets fits both the children and the marketing. I ride it in town and through the country. It is just unwieldy enough not to fit in a bike rack, so I park it directly in front of wherever my destination might be -- just like a teenager with a convertible to show off.

When Joe turns four, we remove his sidewieltjes (training wheels) and he learns to ride behind me into the city center. Chris and I never get over the sight of small children on small bikes trailing behind their parents. There is something very circus-y about those small legs churning.

Nederlanders bike everywhere. The bike-riders possess the right-of-way even over pedestrians. Ask a Nederlander about their family's experiences in World War II and more than likely the first comment will be an indignant, "Well, the Germans stole my _________'s bike." Fietsen is one of the most important components of the culture, and the enemy cut the country to its core by rounding up the bikes en masse.

I now have my own enemy to fietsen -- traffic. I find it impossible to navigate my bike within the same lanes as double-decker buses. So I stare at my Bakfiets longingly out the front window, where it is chained to the gate. My convertible is now on blocks.

auld lang syne: places we miss

joe and tally miss these places in holland:

the fish market on tuesdays and fridays

in the centrum

het luchtkasteel (castle in the sky) children's bookstore

leeuwtje (little lion) wooden toy store

the department store

we take the underground to oxford street for joe and tally's official santa visit at selfridges. the store extends for four floors and encompasses an entire city block -- an old-fashioned department store. for christmas, each window displays santa engaged in various activities: riding his vespa, doing the wash, entering the tube. grammy and gramps treat joe and tally to a gingerbread house from the food hall, where joe

pokes a tentative finger at the fish and grimaces at plucked geese. after a ride on the santa train, an elf leads us thru a secret door where we have a personal audience with santa. "what do you want for christmas?" he asks. "a pop gun," says joe. "a talking doll," says tally. as i silently consider my own wish -- a little black dress from the store's Little Miss Selfridge label -- i know we have travelled by tube thru time.

a journey on the underground

we take the underground from richmond to the west end to see the christmas production "the snowman." this journey is no more or less eventful than any of our other journeys on the underground, which i categorize in my head in the terms "unfortunate/fortunate"...

*unfortunate: we ride for exactly one stop (kew gardens) before the requisite drunk boards and plants himself next to tally. i think "at kew?" i know this stop and it's in a relatively posh area and there are no pubs directly outside the station. but it is 1 o' clock, so he's had time to drink a few pints and make the walk in time for this train. we endure the man for four stops before he announces, "i'm on the wrong train!" and exits at the next stop. but during the ride he repeats without variation to tally that the sticker picture she creates is "beautiful. my, my."
*fortunate: he does not throw up. this happens often in london. last week at the bus stop, chris didn't even notice that the man approximately one foot from him kept turning his head to barf.

*unfortunate: even though service for the district line is labelled "good" on the monitor, we run into enough red signals to extend the journey from 30 minutes to 55 minutes.
*fortunate: at a long stop at westminster, we see two late-twenty-something males with broad smiles maneuver their way onto the train with their christmas tree.

*unfortunate: the train home is diverted. we disembark at an outdoor station and wait with hordes of after-work commuters for another train.
*fortunate: we arrive in richmond just as carolers set up for a station concert. the kids beg to stay. so, we crouch on the floor and listen to the church group sing songs picked especially for the rapt audience of joe and tally.

the high street

the main street that runs through any burrough, village, or part of town is termed "the high street," even though that may not be it's official name. travelling the high street can be wearisome between the buses and foot traffic, but is necessary as it serves as host to the regular slew of grocery stores, quick marts, charity shops, drug stores, etc. that require regular visiting. in bigger burroughs, or in smart parts of central london, stylish british clothing chains and some independent shops add into the mix. shopping in the madness on those high streets can be exhilarating. of course tally couldn't take her buggy on those excursions...

kensington gardens 2

we drag joe and tally from the playground to survey the rest of kensington gardens. we skip the famous peter pan statue to watch people float paper boats on one of the ponds. chris and i find ourselves nonplussed by the landmark as a whole. it lacks the verve of central park.

we decide to wend our way up to notting hill for the saturday markets. they prove touristy, and notting hill itself too pretty to have any soul.

the walk along queensway road makes up for the previous. at this cultural crossroads we find newsstands with papers only in arabic alongside gritty chinese restaurants displaying whole ducks alongside polish delis. joe and tally stop every few steps, pointing out all the exotics. we feel energized as we enter the underground and make our way home.

eating tea

around 5 o'clock, children in england eat tea. tea in this context is what americans call "dinner" or "supper." tea often consists of either fish, chips (french fries) and peas, or sausages and tinned beans. when he eats tea with friends, joe hopes for the former but if given a choice says "pasta." it's the safe bet.

in holland, families eat together, between the hours of 5:30 and 7, either together at the table or out at any of the restaurants. here, children eat tea on their own; parents eat dinner at a later hour. this cultural difference proves to be one of the toughest adjustments for us, especially after living and vacationing on the continent. regular restaurants here only serve dinner after six or seven o'clock, and staff and patrons regard our family with tight smiles. our options: local chain restaurants serve to children after six o'clock; cafes serve until 5:30; some pubs take children's orders until 5 o'clock, some after that, and some not at all. eating out with the joe and tally requires research and results in a compromised palate. so we have friends for tea, and they visit other homes for tea. joe and tally don't seem to mind as much as we do.

kensington gardens 1: princess playground

along the northern edge of kensington gardens lies the princess diana memorial playground.

it is one fantastic playground.

an enormous pirate ship dominates one end. children access it by balancing across a roped plank. once on board, they can yank on pulleys, climb down into a sanded galley and scale the masts.

a little stream runs around the ship. tally digs for treasure in the sand at the water's edge.

chris and i let the kids explore. we skim the times and enjoy the variety of languages being spoken around us. we hear french, spanish, german, russian, etc. london is now the most diverse city in the world -- more languages are spoken here than in any other city. we don't feel one bit out of place.

"these are a few of my favorite things..."

tally says: "paddenstoelen" (toadstools, specifically the red ones with white dots)

i thought these were just a cutesy cartoon creation but they do exist and they pop up everywhere in the fall in holland. as we walk, we keep our eyes trained on the brush, looking for them and signs of their inhabitants - kabouters (gnomes). the dutch use paddenstoelen as a motif in their design. tally loves her paddenstoel lamp, and we collect clothes, accessories and shoes (see her flamenco shoes) in red with white dots.

"these are a few of my favorite things..."

tally says:

"the bloemenwinkel"

(flower shop)

"these are a few of my favorite things..."

tally says:

"all my friends"

the old and the new

gracie and lotti

madelief

alban

"the kids' new playground is in the cemetery..."

says chris in a call from england to the states. i am too surprised to respond, so he rushes on sheepishly. "the great thing is that it's only a couple of blocks from our house..."

holly road playground is situated in the center of a cemetery and located off an alley that runs behind the high street businesses. because it is on our route to and from practically anywhere in town, we stop there often for picnics and/or play. joe thinks that if he stands on the headstones and really stretches, he can reach the trees. i choose not to explain what lies beneath his makeshift ladders.

flashback: bij het poppentheatre

the grounds.

poppentheatre muzipo is tucked within a neighborhood of row houses just three blocks from our home in breda. then tucked behind the small theatre is playground and our area's dierenpark--petting farm. this unmonitored farm is home to goats and rabbits and all manner of fowl. because it is sponsored by our area of breda, zandberg, local businesses keep it funded, volunteers keep it tidy and the city government hires the help to care for the animals. families are free to wander in among the animals during daylight hours. there are no problems with this system. the gates are always latched when we arrive. a container of disinfectant hangs on the side of the barn. i love this about the dutch. individuals are responsible for their own behavior. no litigation would follow a goat nip. just a scolding from a parent. so after we see the puppet shows, we wander over to the compound and into the tiny barn, where we leave an euro and choose ten eggs from a big wooden chest. the variety of fowl means that the eggs come in all colors and sizes. it's so fun to choose.

the puppet theatre.

the non-litigious nature of the dutch makes this theatre possible as well! the actual theatre is up a twisty, narrow, tall set of stairs, in what was the loft in an old house. i bring my folks to see a show and my mom comments, "if there's a fire, we'll all die." this is her first and last show.

i learn that the shows are easy to understand, regardless of language proficiency, from my own language tutor. she is right. not only is the content simple, but so is the production. we actually see the puppetmasters in action. i love this. joe enjoys it as well. tally not so much.

but we go quarterly because the cumulative experience is so quaint. each time we attend, it seems a birthday child is in attendance. after the performance, we sing to them the dutch birthday song, lang zal ze leven (which is the first song -dutch or american - tally knows by heart). on the "hoeras!" strands of colored lights pop down from the pitched ceiling and confetti falls. it' so old-fashioned and festive.

afterwards, we all stumble-trip down the stairs and purchase dixie cups of apple juice for 50 cents. then the children play. long tables are set up with puzzles and art books and colored pencils. a fantastic castle backdrop covers a fireplace, into which the owners have somehow crafted stairs. the children dress up as princesses and knights, disappearing into one side of the fireplace and reappearing on the other side. this experience becomes one of my favorites in our time in breda.

at the puppet barge

as i turn toward the richmond riverside on my morning run, i notice the red and yellow stripes of what i assume is a carnival tent sitting not far from the bridge. when i get closer i see the words "puppet theatre" painted on the side of a barge that is actually docked at the river. my interest is piqued.


i learn that the puppet barge is a special london attraction. it moves up and down the river thames, docking for 2-3 months at a time and holding shows for children aged 3-12. in the late summer, it docks in richmond.



i purchase three tickets to "the tale of babuschka baboon." we attend on the windiest day of the year, which gives joe and i an uneasy feeling. trapped on a boat in the wind- it's one of those situations that's bound to end badly, as we both experience severe motion sickness. but after a few initial dips and rocks, the captain tightens the hold on the dock, and the show goes on. it is a message-heavy script - ivory-hunting in the congo- but the production is fanstastic. interesting shadow play, multi-jointed monkey puppets that make a happy clackety sound when in motion. a very different kind of puppet show than we experience in the netherlands...

river thames 2: twickenham to richmond

grandma spends a night and day with us on her way back to the states from bahrain. on a blustery saturday morning, we walk the richmond toepath to petersham nurseries cafe for soup and pastry -- about 1 1/2 miles along the thames. we see the usual saturday morning scullers and loads of people walking their sheep dogs and airedales.

to cross to the richmond side of the river, we use the ferry (one pound a piece for adults and children, dogs 50p.) this little boat seats about six and operates 10 months out of the year, depending upon the tides. the captain lives in a compact house boat right above the dock. his interior window sills are lined with chipped enamelware and wilting potted plants. "cosy," says joe. "can we live here next?"

flashback: joe's fourth birthday at eftling

grammy and gramps join us for joe's fourth birthday. we make the occasion special by taking a trip to eftling, a fairytale-themed amusement park a thirty-minute drive from our house in Breda. joe and grammy ride the children's roller coaster, both kids sneak peaks into the "kabouter" (gnome village), and we all eat poffertjes (silver dollar-sized puffy pancakes) with powdered sugar as we watch the goose parade.

birthdays abroad

who comes?

we live in holland one month before tally's second birthday, england one month before joe's fifth birthday. not exactly enough time to develop relationships. fortunately grammy and gramps make the trek to holland for both tally's second and third birthdays and joe's fourth.

differences in the ways birthdays are celebrated in cultures also make a difference in how we choose to celebrate them.

in the uk, birthday parties are enormous affairs. the children's guidebooks have pages of listings for entertainers. there are fairy-for-a-dy parties. magician parties. construction parties. the mind reels. entire school classes are invited. a party joe attends later this week has no less than sixty invitees. we decide that taking the family to eurodisneyland for a weekend for his fifth probably involves less effort and expense!

in holland, birthday parties are intimate affairs. the celebrants wear paper crowns created by hand, announcing their age, no matter what that may be, and their dining chair is decorated with paper slingertjes, mini-flags and balloons. the taart is served and the songs are sung as soon as all guests arrive. adult guests then eat, drink and mingle, the children play, and everyone goes home when they please.

even though i take an hour-long train ride to utrecht to pick up tally's third birthday cake from a baker that makes north american style buttercream frosting, the children prefer dutch taart --essentially layers and layers of slagroom (freshly whipped cream) over another creamed filling or fruit, all loaded in a pie shell.