It's all Greek to me

Saturday - spent the afternoon hiding from the village bazaar people in Munich. The Deutsche Museum seemed a pretty safe bet - I couldn't imagine that any of Bovinia's farmers pop into the museum regularly to check out the John Deere exhibits. Actually, the place was crawling with Italians and other assorted foreigners. Enjoyed the anonymity of a big city for a few hours.

Sunday - back in Bovinia. Three o'clock in the afternoon saw me, Hedda and CG attending a rather curious meeting in the local pub. All because two days earlier, a mother from the village had asked me whether we would like to come, knowing Hedda is keen on dancing. These were the only details I could glean from the conversation, which was one of those Bavarian dialect types where I had to admit I didn't understand three times, then gave up. The meeting itself was pretty much the same. I had coerced CG into coming in the guise of my official translator. Thank goodness I did, for I understood a maximum forty per cent of the proceedings. This was, however, more than Hedda. The meeting was to gauge interest in and get children to join a dance troupe for Fasching 2012, some typical Bavarian thing of which I had never heard, ever. Anyway, there were 7 potential dancers there. One clearly couldn't face the prospect and fled the room, crying, but Hedda appeared to be taking it all in and confidently put her name on the list when it came round. I asked her if she was quite sure and she nodded vigorously. This surprised me somewhat, as it had been made very clear what hard work it would be for the children and that it would entail 9 months of twice-weekly rehearsals. When we finally escaped into the fresh air again, I patted her little blonde head and said brightly, well! Good for you. She skipped along happily for a bit. Then asked, so what exactly have I signed up to do, Mummy? She really didn't have a clue. It makes me wonder how she copes at school... or anywhere in fact. Still, she is pleased to be in on the action. And of course, I will delight in the many parents' evenings, coffee mornings, trips to the dressmaker and whatever else, as long as I view it as a cultural integration project for myself. Please remind me if I seem to be veering off this worthy path at any time.