School Update

Ok, for all our "fans" out there (meaning, moms who feel my pain), let me give you the latest update.  Fasten your seat belts....

After figuring out the whole mensa madness, you'd think things would settle down, right?  Well, not so much.  Max had a cold and missed a couple of days of school, I already learned not to "call in" as I had done the last time he was sick -- much to their confusion.  When he was ready to return, we had a doctor's appt at 9:30, so I let him sleep in.  When we arrived around 10, I brought him to the segretaria (administrative office -- only open to the public from 10-12 which is really convenient when school starts at 8 and lets out at 4!), proud of myself for finally getting the system down.  Nope.  Why had I brought him there?  He needed to be down at the school.  But last time he was late, the teachers told me to go to the segretaria to get a pass.  No, no, no.  You must go down to check him in with the bidella who will bring him to class.  (Cultural note: schools have bidelle, paid to be a cross between door person and hall monitor).  Then she saw the mensa ticket in my hand. (Again, I was feeling proud of myself for doing something right for once).  No, no, no, it's much too late.  He can't have mensa today, we've already collected the boxes.  It's late, Signora, you should have called.  I clenched my teeth, took Max's hand and went down to the elementary building.  I rang the doorbell and eventually a bidella opened up and asked how she could help me.  Well, as she could see, my son was late for school, so I needed to check him in and get him to class.  Oh, fill this form out.  Then her eyes narrowed in on the mensa ticket I was still holding.  No, no, no, he can't have mensa, it's too late, you should have called.  Yup, got the message upstairs.  It's OK, he has plenty of food in his bag for snack (why can they bring food for snack, but not for lunch?) and doesn't really eat at mensa anyway.  Oh, so we'll see you at 1:00?  1:00?  Yes, 1:00.  If he isn't eating lunch, he'll have to leave at 1:00.  OMG, how do people work here?  Tears of frustration welled, and they looked at me in disbelief.  I told Max to go along with his "escort" and stomped out.

Need more anecdotes?  How about poor Max coming home the other day horrified that he had to go the bathroom at school and discovered there was no toilet paper.  Or the fact that parents were told to pack soap and paper towels when lunch finally got up and running?

Here's the final entry:

Rick decided he'd pick Max up in the afternoons.  The first time we went together, all went well, the ramp was open, I talked to the teachers and they said he could pull right up to the door, that's what the ramp was for after all.  But when he did, the other teachers had a fit, pleading "i bambini, i bambini" as if he were a terrorist about to set off a bomb.

The next day, Rick went on his own.  When he arrived, the gate in front of the ramp was locked, leaving him with no way to get down to the door where they let the kids out.  He finally "communicated" with someone who said he should really come at 3:45, so he doesn't interfere with dismissal, and that the Bidella would escort Max up to the gate.

So I filled out this lengthy document to officially request that the bidella escort Max out of the classroom, to the gate, each afternoon.  Done.

But then we learned that although school ended at 4, since Max wasn't taking religion, we should pick him up at 3.  Really??  Rick was thrilled, going earlier made it easier to schedule conference calls with the U.S.  So I went in to the segretaria again, requested another form to change my request from 3:45 to 3.  No, no, no, signora, not every day.  Religion is only once a week.  Which day was that?  You'll have to ask the teacher, we don't have their schedules.  I replied that the teacher was the one who told me to pick him up at 3, and in any case, our schedule was now fixed, appointments had been made, and Max would be picked up at 3.  Well, she sighed, if you want him to miss an hour of his education every day (hands go up in the air)....when do you want this to start?  Today.  No, no, no...that would be impossible.  I had to fill out the form, the form had to be approved and signed by the head, the bidelle had to be informed....There was more than one?  Why yes, they rotate, and each has a list of who they are supposed to get when.

Fine.  It was Thursday and we had already decided to pull him out after Friday and enroll him in a differnt school. I could do this for two days.  I told Rick not to come (he had a call at 4), and I went to the school at 3:45 to pick up Max.  Not there.  At 3:55 I rang the bell.  Eventually one of the famed bidelle opened the door.  Yes?  I'm looking for my son.  What class is he in?  1A, but he's supposed to be at the gate at 3:45.  Oh, I guess no one got him today.  I'll go to his classroom to retrieve him.  But isn't it normally a man who comes?  Yes, my husband, but today it's me..the mom.  Ah, I've never met you, you're the americana.  Yes, I am from the United States.  Oh, well normally we bring your son to the gate.  Yes, I know, that's because my husband is handicapped and the gate in front of the ramp is locked on occasion.  Oh...well, will you be coming tomorrow too?  Yes.  Then you can come at the normal time.  OK, what do I need to do (envisioning another long form)?  Oh, just write a note in your son's homework book telling the teacher not to dismiss him early, that you'll be there at 4.

Anyone want to guess what happened today?  I arrived shortly before 4.  A mother came up to me and asked if I was the mamma di Max.  Yes.  Well, I saw him up at the gate crying.  Fortunately, the little crowd around me couldn't understand what I was saying, although I'm sure they got the idea from my face/tone.  I rang the doorbell, but no one answered.  At 4 they dismissed the kids, and a bidella was protecting the tear-stained Max from whatever horrible parent might have appeared to finally pick him up.  It was my last pick up at Canevari, I hugged Max and told him we weren't coming back and then told the bidella for all the other mother's to hear, that I had expressly written in his book that I was coming at 4.  Oh...

So our last day was just like the first day.  Max in tears thinking his parents deserted him, and the Canevari Clan thinking the americani were rude and disorganized.  Some times you just can't win.