July 2011

The 1st of July started with a bang – it was Daniel’s End of School Year play. His role was fisherman, and he seemed quite happy with that. Until he had to get on stage and do his bit. I don’t like to let everyone know that he was a bit hesitant, but he did bawl his eyes out like a big girl, until we promised not to make him go on stage.

The following night, the other two kids had their End of Year School Show at the main theatre on the island, with a similar feel to High School Musical, the Graduation Show.  I hope to download it somehow, as we have some fantastic footage of Joseph belting out a Portuguese song, with a passion Shirley Bassey would have been proud of; and Holly performing traditional Cape Verdean/ African courtship dances (we thought she was the best, naturally). Of course, she danced with innocence, but the Beyonce booty-shaking would have been banned in Hollywoods/Crystal T’s/Dukes/Palms/local townie nite club (delete as appropriate). She was amazing.

The only blip in the events was that Joe graduated from his academic level, but this obviously wasn’t the problem, as I was incredibly proud of him. He was, however, the first pupil in his whole school to be in line for a rosetta and diploma as a reward for his achievement. Sitting happily in the auditorium watching  the projector slideshow beaming out photos of a happy Joe in his classroom, I didn’t realise the Head Teacher was calling for me (in Portuguese)  on the microphone to go on stage to present him with his award. What a fantastic way to present myself for the first time to the school mums and teachers. I think there were lots of patronising “aw, bless”es  going around that evening for me.

It’s very usual for any kids party to include everybody – Nan’s, aunties, the dog…  We all had to take a cake/pudding/snack for the post-show party in the playground/function room next door.  Our cake got smashed in the cab on the way to the show, so my idea was to hide it carefully under the contributions from other parents. Unfortunately, my husband walked straight up to the head teacher, beaming with pride and showed her the cake.

Tony then dragged us down with a bit of a tummy bug a few days later. The Cowper approach is typically northern – just get on with it and don’t think about receiving sympathy. I’m pleased to report that he is fully recovered.

Since then we’ve changed gear a little as the kids broke up for school holidays mid-July. After two glowing school reports, we decided they needed….more school work. They spend 9-4pm every week day learning English Curriculum with a sprinkling of Portuguese. They love it. We’re not so bad really, as we’re doing the whole hippy parent thing. The kids are learning lots of day-to-day life skills…washing-up, boiling eggs, loading the washing machine, cooking basic dinners, taking the rubbish to the tip. Upon consideration, life seems quite relaxed. Seriously, they’re having loads of one-to-one time swimming, doing arty stuff, making playdough, learning to bake cakes by themselves. It’s great.

Our general free-time is getting more and more beach-based. We still love the jetty and watch the fisherman haul in their catches. They sometimes catch a shark, and then cut it to bits, slashing the jaws from the head to sell to tourists. It’s definitely an education. I hear the sharks are tiger sharks, but only “babies” at 6 foot! Who knows. We also see them bring in puffer-fish , which are really ugly fellas. They then stick a balloon in its mouth (when it’s dead) and blow the balloon up. This inflates the fish and they leave it to dry out, and then sell a puffed-up puffer fish to tourists. As usual, there’s the usual tourist tat, too – wooden carvings of semi-naked ladies with baskets on their heads, and wooden carvings of totally-naked men in an “I’m-peeing-thank-you-very-much” pose. Which leads me nicely to…

Another Joey gem. He saw a photo of the Black Eyed Peas (American black music group) in a magazine and he shouted out: “Look, there’s the Beatles.”
We still don’t go out much, as we’re STILL not earning. So we go to the beach on Fridays for the start of weekend at 5pm. It’s full of cool Cape Verdeans playing frizbee, beach volleyball and football. For once, it’s the ladies who get a lovely treat on the beach, as the local men really do look after their bodies. It’s all manual work out here, so there’s six-packs a-plenty. Yum yum. So, reminding myself about my Friday night beach story, we’re trying to make that ever so subtle leap, and asking the cool kids if we can come and play with them. I mean a topless Tony, three small children and a wrinkly nearly 40 year old wife. We’re an essential addition to anyone’s beach party.

Before I forget, the home-made yoghurt is coming along nicely. We now have yoghurt cook-offs to see who’s the best yoghurt maker. Oh, the fun we have.

Mid-July was National Mosquito Day. Yes, we had to check our environment to make sure that there was no stagnant water in car tyres (there are no cars except taxis), and a reminder that we shouldn’t over-water our potted plants, again avoiding stagnant water. However, we have a large swimming pool outside our balcony, and pools of foetid water around the new road under construction outside our apartment. Que sera sera. The bad side of all this, they are afraid the Dengue mosquitos will buzz onto the island one day. As I’m the one who gets bitten most, the kids are really excited about the possibility of me swooning in agony some day soon.

Just a bit of honesty here, really. A friend recently said that she enjoyed our blog and we seem to be living the dream. I just told her that we put the best bits in there as no-one wants to hear about mundane days. We have lots of them, for example, my Face Painting scheme is now on hold as the council authorisation has been removed. They can’t entertain the responsibility of me running around resort with some child-friendly paints and paintbrushes in my hand. They can, however, let incredibly underpaid Africans work on building sites without any safety restrictions. In fact yesterday Tony saw the classic accessory to any family snapshot on the beach yesterday – a baby monkey.  So we just put in the fun stuff in the blog, really. However, if you talk to the kids its all about cockroaches and mosquitos.

Anyway, this particular friend  is struggling with ill-health in life, as are others like my Dad and I think they’re the ones who I’m in awe of. They just get on with it. My Dad’s the original Bionic Man, victim of hundreds of knee/hip/shoulder/elbow…operations, the origins of which he blames on building his own house extensions pre-Health and Safety mania. I blame years of trotting up and down the rugby pitch myself. Well, I’m rambling a bit here, but I just wanted to say how proud I am of my family and friends, and I miss you. Bless you all.

More Joey: this month so far, he has managed to walk forwards and look backwards, thus walking straight into a lamppost. He also hit himself on the head with a frying pan, whilst drying the pots. He is now labelled “Joey clonk”.

 

Finally, the kids nearly got their wish. I’ve had a flu-ey thing for over a week, and really didn’t have the energy to get out of bed. It was ace. I read three books. No Dengue Fever though, so they’re still wishing away.

I did get some sympathy from the kids (yes, I’m a hypocrite). We do something called three stars and a wish every week. We all have a turn at saying three stars – things we’re proud or happy that have happened during the week, and we ask for one wish- something they would like to happen or change. Normally, it’s “My three stars are… I caught a crab, I made a Lego spaceship by myself and I killed three mosquitos,” followed by “ I wish for Nanny to send more Haribos from England.” (No hint there, Gloria, but we are also running low on coffee). Well, this past week, their wishes have all been that “Mummy gets better.” I love my children immensly. xxx

PS. Couldn't resist this one...