Abrams Family World Travel

Melbourne: Caring For The Classics

CLASSICAL music didn't appeal to me in any way until, say, about 10 years ago. As a child, I remember my parents listening to it all the time. I suppose I reacted against it.

Maybe missing the European Cup final (as it was then known in 1976) between Bayern Munich and St. Etienne (I was a football nut) - to be dragged off instead to a classical music concert at the Albert Hall - cemented my decision to tune out Bach, Strauss and their contemporaries. 

But nowadays, for whatever reason, I find it relaxing and calming. When driving, which can be stressful, I'd much rather listen to classical than anything else.

Consciously, I haven't tried pushing my musical choices on to my children. Zenchai just happens to have a varied taste. For instance, he likes Bob Marley, Cat Stevens, Krishna Das, Norah Jones, Nirvana, but also classical music.

One morning, while chatting over breakfast here in Melbourne, Zenchai was listening to Classic FM (because it reminds him of his grandparents' home in England). 

And his ears pricked up when he heard of a 24-hour concert in Melbourne billed as Care Aware. The idea of a 24-hour concert seemed to confound him. The DJ then said to listeners to pick up something (weighing about the same as a violin) and to hold it in a violinist's position for around three minutes. Zenchai gave it a try, but couldn't do it.

I explained to him that in the concert the musicians would probably have to hold on to their instruments for the best part of a full day. He was intrigued.

The next step was to get tickets, as I knew he was interested. They were free, too. But as the concert by the 200-strong Impossible Orchestra was to raise awareness and money for the millions of carers in Australia who go unpaid, we made an online donation and booked our seats.

Seats could be booked for three-hour portions only, which was long enough for a six-year-old. The concert started at 5pm on a Saturday and finished at that time the following day. Zenchai and I went for the climax.

Zenchai particularly enjoyed getting dressed up and feeling more grown up, borrowing some clothes from a friend (thanks, Kyle). 

The gig took place in Melbourne city at Hamer Hall. We took the train in from Bonbeach and found the venue easily enough - about one minute walk from Flinders Street station. Collecting tickets was simple. The seats were comfy. We then listened and watched. One listener described it as an "educational eargasm".

I was surprised by how much Zenchai got into it, applauding after the various pieces were played and asking about the different instruments, the cameramen, lighting etc. I answered what I could. 

During one interval we went outside and wondered around the Sunday Market. At a stall (noworriescurries.com) selling Indian spices, Zenchai and I chatted with the owners. They were so taken with Zenchai that the lady kindly gave us some extras. 

We went back in for the conclusion of the concert. I didn't pressure Zenchai to stay until the end, but he chose to remain. It gave me an opportunity on the train on the way home to talk with him about carers and what they do and how selfless they are. How this affects him I don't know. 

But the outing, I know for sure, was a big success. 

World Travel: A Question Of Education

I GET asked a lot about education when people discover we have been travelling with children as long as we have.

Then they enquire how old our offspring are. "Six and one," I say. And suddenly the alarm drops from their voices.

Of course, in many countries children don't begin school until seven. But school often hasn't really been a realistic option for us while travelling and, let's face it, it's not the ONLY way one can learn or become educated. Even Albert Einstein said, "education is what remains when one has forgotten everything he or she has learned in school."

We tried school for a while when in Piracanga, Brazil, but Zenchai really didn't like it, although he seems to have forgotten how much.

Occasionally, he talks about it fondly and, when I probe deeper, it turns out that what he really liked was the freedom (it was a Free School) and playing daily with the one or two kids he had formed relationships with.

But every day was a struggle for me to take him to school. He fought it - and hard. Eventually, we listened to him. Suffice to say he had some unpleasant experiences there, though I should add there were some good ones, too.

However, though he is now six and hasn't really had any schooling, Zenchai is bright - very bright, the smart Alec variety.

The point is that whether he is formally instructed or not, he is learning, because, in the right environment, that's what children do. And Zenchai is doing it at his pace, mostly through play, and choosing what it is he is interested in rather than following a curriculum that someone else has deemed either necessary or appropriate.

Rightly or wrongly, that's the path we are taking for now. Not everyone will believe in or support our choices - and we may, of course, change our minds/attitudes - but currently I am happy with how Zenchai is developing and progressing.

Of course, he is hugely challenging, incredibly chatty and fiercely demanding at times also. But I could replace challenging with strong-willed and chatty with expressive and demanding with having the spirit to make his desires a reality. He has a strong personality, but is also highly sensitive. He is very much a free soul.

So when I am asked about reading, writing and counting etc, I don't feel any more concerned with Zenchai's progress than I was when he was learning to walk and talk, which all occurred completely naturally. The same happened with running, cycling, swimming, bodyboarding and kayaking. All we did was provide the suitable environment and tools, which gave Zenchai, when he was ready, the motivation. Through practice and enthusiasm, he got better. And I believe the same will occur with reading, writing, drawing, counting and pretty much everything else.

I notice how he studies the pages of his books even now and looks at the words, trying to work out the sounds. He does it all by himself, privately, and that's fine by us. And if he needs help, he usually asks and we assist.

Zenchai is a good observer. He can, like many young children, handle a computer effortlessly and knows how it operates. He knows all about cars, because it's his passion and he absorbs every word that he hears or reads about them. 

I know from my own experience that what I learned best was what I was most interested in and that still remains the case. What was forced upon me I quickly tried to avoid or give up or ended up forgetting.

I became a journalist through desire, passion and enthusiasm. What I learned for my specialised subject, boxing, was done off my own back and not in school. The key, I believe, is fostering that passion.

So we are trying to encourage Zenchai to learn through his interests, which are mainly cars and vehicles, but he is also into pirates, dinosaurs, building, music, magic, singing, books/stories, sometimes sports and many other things. By watching Zenchai play with cars, for instance, I have observed him learn to read (badges, number plates, signs, logos), draw (he loves details), build (he converts almost anything, including himself, into a car), count and write, all fuelled by his own fascination and with no urging or deliberate guidance from us, his parents.

There is no reason why this cannot continue as he gets older, so long as Jamie and I are prepared to support him where needed (and, for the record, neither of us is particularly interested in cars). 

The questions that are always asked are about sociability and education when they get older. But being 'homeschooled' doesn't mean Zenchai won't have contact with other children or can't, if he chooses, go on to university one day. And, as said earlier, one day we or he may decide to opt for something more structured and institutionalised. 

We seek out playgroups and other families with children wherever we go and, more importantly, Zenchai is in a world where he learns to interact with people of all age groups rather than predominantly his own and spends most of his days in real life situations rather than classrooms. 

It amounts to a different type of education. Our model is really more life-learning. But it's a tough undertaking for any parent. Believe me, I have many days when Zenchai is too much for me/us to handle and I think it would be so much easier and convenient to pack him off to school, which would give me all the time I wanted to myself. But the reality is that in those moments we are not quite getting something right and he is reminding us of it. 

But neither Jamie nor I, at this moment, really feel a school system is for Zenchai or, more accurately, we haven't found a school model here that we think is suitable for him. So we have chosen an alternative road. 

As I am reminded frequently by the homeschooling/life learning/unschooling community, homeschooling is not the experiment. It's how for generations children were raised. School, actually, is the experiment.

However, learning from 'home' means we are with our children practically all the time, which is testing (really testing) for our family dynamic. We also have to place a lot of trust in Zenchai, because he guides us to what he enjoys and wants to learn about.

Thankfully, we've never been too fussed about comparing Zenchai to other children his age. We try to think of him as an individual and unique (which is what all children are) and there is too much stress created by continually being informed your child may be lagging behind or lacking in some way, physically or mentally. I certainly never liked being compared when I was younger. Zenchai excels at being himself and my job is to accept him as he is (which, I admit during challenging moments, isn't always easy).  

I cannot say how different I would be had I been raised as Zenchai is being. It's an impossible question, of course. It would suit some children more than others. 

All I know is that whenever I ask Zenchai if he would like to go to school, his answer is an emphatic 'NO'. To go against that would be disrespecting his choice (as I did for several months in Brazil), just as it would if I kept him out of school should one day he decide again to try. 

Some people believe children shouldn't have that choice - that it is too great a decision for them. But I'm not one of them. I believe, even if I don't always succeed in practising what I preach, that to raise respectful people we should treat them respectfully. 

 

Kollam, India: Feeling Like A Star In An Elephant Parade

AFTER only a week in India the opportunity came up to visit a special elephant festival in the neighbouring town of Kollam. Not wanting to miss what could be a spectacular event for our senses, we decided to go.

We had been warned that it could be a very noisy experience as each village surrounding Kollam would be sending their decorated elephants and a musical entourage to accompany the great giants. Each village in effect was competing to have the most elaborately adorned elephant and loudest musical show.

We hired a tuk-tuk driver to take us there, wait for us and drive us back to Varkala (the going rate was R1,000 [£15] as it was 45 minutes each way). The drive was smooth and luckily there were no hair-raising moments either!

When we arrived at the main drag where the festival would take place, the atmosphere was electrical. People were buzzing around everywhere. It felt like we had arrived in the 'real India'.

There were street vendors selling snacks, drinks, noise-makers, toys and all things party-related. Children were lining the streets in anticipation of the upcoming parade. Westerners were dotted through the crowds, taking in the sensual orb surrounding the event.

And there we were in the middle of it all, drinking in our first Indian festival. Having two children, especially a baby, we attracted a lot of attention. I was stopped every few paces as people wanted to smile, raise their eyebrows, click their fingers and touch Kobra. 

I even had a few teenage boys stop me, but to my surprise they wanted to know MY name and not Kobra's. As we strolled the street, those boys just kept appearing and would lovingly call "Hello Jamie!" in their sweet Indian accents. Claude, of course, found this very amusing - actually he still does!

We watched as several elephants and their blinged-up groupies passed, but the noise was getting to be too much - as was seeing the elephants' shackled legs, so we decided to find our tuk-tuk driver and head out. 

Our driver wasn't familiar with Kollam, so took the advice of another driver on the best exit route from all the chaos. However, I think he was mislead because it turned out the recommended short-cut actually put us smack in the middle of the procession. 

We were following the elephant's journey. Our driver tried his hardest to overtake as many elephants as he safely could, but it was difficult as we were being lead down many winding lanes, passing the homes of all the local people who were out in force to see the show. 

Each family stood at the edge of their property with puja offerings to the elephants. They had decorated tables with fruits, candles and incense. Everyone had the biggest smile imaginable and waved to us as we passed them. It felt like we were royalty. We were all beaming from the warmth the people of Kollam so generously showered upon us. I think this may be the closet experience I will ever have to feeling like a superstar.

After our driver finally found a turn-off from the procession and was on the road back to Varkala, we had a good laugh about how much fun we had being in the parade.

 

 

World Travel: Five Moments To Savour In 2011

  

  

BIRTH OF KOBRA  

 

I feel privileged to have been present – and actively so – when both my children were born. I caught Zenchai. But with Kobra it was slightly different.

 

Although Jamie gave birth to her in the toilet, as she did for Zenchai, she had been in labour mostly by herself for roughly 45 minutes – no more. It was pouring with rain outside the Brazilian beach home where we were living and pitched black.

 

Our midwife arrived in the nick of time and by chance, with Jamie on her knees and ready for Kobra’s arrival. It was a magical feeling and occasion.

 

 

 

  

 

 LIVING ON LIGHT FOR 21 DAYS

 

The idea of going without food for three weeks and both food and water for the first seven of them seemed ludicrous. But I had the most extraordinary time by myself - thinking, feeling, being and without hardly any stress in the most beautiful, natural surroundings in Serra Grande, Bahia, Brazil.

 

Although I lost a lot of weight and strength, I gained so much in terms of perspective, understanding, direction, strength of mind and peace.

 

 

VISITING THE AWESOME IGUAZU FALLS 

 

I’d been saying almost from the time we arrived in Argentina that I wanted to go to Iguazu. I’d seen the photos and felt it was too far to go to not see in person.

 

Because Jamie was becoming more heavily pregnant, I opted to go alone. I took a 16-hour bus ride there and was greeted upon my arrival with a thunderstorm which raged for hours.

 

I got soaked, but the rain soon passed and what I witnessed was absolutely immense. A speedboat journey into the falls was the undoubted highlight of the visit. The same day I headed back to Buenos Aires by bus – taking 18 hours – but it was worth it!

 

 

 

WATCHING ZENCHAI LEARN TO SWIM AND KAYAK BY HIMSELF 

 

Zenchai can be ambivalent towards water. Some days I couldn't get him out of the ocean or river and on others it was painful trying to encourage him to take a dip. He's an extremist after all.

 

In spite of this, we spent many hours together splashing around. It wasn't until late into our eight-month stay in Piracanga, Bahia that Zenchai took an interest in kayaking. Around the same time his swimming seemed to blossom.

 

I don't know if, overall, his confidence was soaring, but after I'd made several failed attempts to teach him to kayak, a few days later I saw him paddling up and down the river like a pro all by himself.

 

And then a matter of days later when Zenchai and I were down by the river alone, he'd made his way across without me. Inexplicably, he jumped in when the tide was rising and current strong.

 

I heard him shout for help, saying his feet couldn't touch the ground, but instead of going under, he was thrashing his arms, freestyle, and staying afloat. I didn't want to panic him by rushing, so walked towards him as quickly as I could. He continued swimming until I arrived. Proud moment.

 

SEEING AND HEARING MY CHILD SPEAK A FOREIGN LANGUAGE 

  

This is nothing new. Children learn to speak new languages all the time. But when I saw and heard it with my own eyes and ears it still felt wonderful.

 

Zenchai spent only three months in a Brazilian school, but he also mixed a lot with native-speaking children.

 

Everyone kept saying when we arrived that he'd be speaking Portuguese in no time, but I couldn't imagine it.

 

However, he transitioned amazingly well and by the time we left Brazil he was singing in Portuguese and using his new language when playing by himself.

London: Krishna Das Concert

Zenchai has been listening to Krishna Das (traditional indian kirtan music) since he was in my womb. So it is no wonder that even to this day he claims that Krishna Das is one of his all-time favourite musicians.

Randomly one day a few months ago, while we were still in Piricanga, Brazil, he asked if we could go to a Krishna Das concert. Adoring KD, I said absolutely.

As if by divine timing, the very next day in my email inbox was a notice saying Krishna Das was touring. It was all quite strange as the email wasn’t sent to me by any group that I had or am subscribed to.

I took it as a sign to follow-up on this. I found that KD was in Brazil. How amazing! The perfect opportunity to go see him live. However, we had no travel documents for Kobra at the time so seeing him in Brazil was out the window. But I noticed he was going to be in London in October.

Our future travel plans began to unfold and, as if by magic, we would be in London in time to see the concert. I had my mother-in-law call to book tickets only to find that the booking agency would not sell tickets or admit anyone under the age of 14. I was livid about this obvious ageist rule. So, just to make sure, I had her call again. The same answer was given.

Once in London again, I pulled out the strong horses and began sending emails to the event organizers. I came to find out children WERE allowed to attend and we were given the wrong information. I immediately logged on to the website selling tickets only to find they had sold out.

I was gutted. I wrote back to the organizer that had given me the okay to take kiddies and she offered me an alternative place to purchase tickets. Luckily, I was able to snag two.

The night of the concert arrives. I am giddy with excitement to take Zenchai and Kobra to see and hear KD. We bundle on to the tube and make our way into central London. Upon arrival to the event, we were greeted with a huge queue of people all waiting to enter the hall.

After standing in the long line, we made our into the venue being ushered by many helpful assitants. Our seats were in the balcony section (the cheap seats at £29 each!). The auditorium was bustling and finding decent seats in our section wasn’t easy.

Once we secured three seats (we were meeting a friend and her 18-month old there) we began to bed-down. Zenchai was immediately agitated. The seats were cramped (my knees were banging into the seat in front of me – I can’t imagine what it would have been like for Claude had he come) and his chair kept tilting his light body out of it. So to counter his discontent, he began climbing on and over me into the aisle.

Kobra was seated on my lap. Just days before, she had discovered her inner-pirate and was loudly making her happy sounds. All the while the temperature in the auditorium was rocketing higher and higher.

KD was taking ages to make his way on to the stage. Finally he was introduced and those with children were asked to be mindful of everyone elses experience.

With KD finally on stage, Zenchai was momentarily entranced, but within minutes he was talking over KD, asking all sorts of questions. From the corner of my eyes I could already feel the 'be silent' looks from people around me.

Kobra began snatching every piece of paper within hand distance, biting and chewing it and making a fine paste. It was all over her and me. I could feel the sweat trickle down my back as her enthusiastic pirate chorus grew louder and all the blood rush to the surface of my skin as Zenchai continued to use the seats and me as a climbing frame and death glares started coming our way.

This was all within 15 minutes of arriving. I immediately realized what a mistake I had made. I wasn’t enjoying the experience in any shape or form.

We heard what felt like two songs before Radhanath Swami came on stage and started talking. By this point both kids were all over the place.

I decided to step out in the hall and get some fresh air with them. At that exact moment the friend I had been waiting for stepped out from a different section. We both looked at each other and, without saying a word, had non-verbally agreed this wasn’t going to work.

We waited out in the halls until the Swami had finished his talk and quickly made an exit for home.

I was so disappointed - my fantasy concert didn’t come off as anticipated.

But to add icing to the cake, on the way home from the concert I was verbally insulted by a drunk woman. She was shouting at me saying how I was abusing my child by having him out so late (10pm), that he should be taken into foster care and how disgusting I was.

By that point I could only laugh.

 

Piracanga: Zenchai's Hang Drum Concert Promotion Video Exclusive!

 

 

Here's the promised clip of the candlelight concert Zenchai promoted by himself earlier this month, featuring Shiroma, our neighbour, playing a hang drum. Hope you enjoy the unique sound of this drum and the wonderful atmosphere Zenchai created.

Piracanga: Zenchai The Music Promoter

  "Daddy, daddy, come see my stadium," Zenchai announced excitedly as I returned to the house one afternoon.

Stadium? 'What's he talking about?' I thought to myself.

Then I headed into the garden and saw this structure he had put together all by himself from leftover wood. And for decoration, Zenchai built a kind of tower on which he placed a dog bone, dog tooth, banana flower and other natural items he had found. 

The stadium was more like a stage. He'd decided, by his own volition, to have a concert. Our German/Sri Lankan neighbour, Shiroma, plays a unique drum called a hang. They are huge, like tagine ovens, and specially made in Switzerland. Only 3,000 exist in the world.

Shiroma's very talented. And although she's had been living next to us for a while, we had never got to hear her play. 

So Zenchai decided he would make it happen. His first music concert promotion! Could this be the start of something big?

Shiroma came over to the house to see the construction and inspect it (for safety and size, presumably). She told Zenchai, though, that before you can have a concert you first need to book the artist and set a time. So Zenchai and Shiroma did some negotiating. And as Zenchai had ensured her it was an eco-friendly stadium (made from wood etc), I think Shiroma agreed to perform for free. 

First, though, she advised Zenchai that some modifications were needed. Zenchai then went off with his bag of nails and hammer and started reconstructing - all by himself. 

When Zenchai had finished, he agreed a time for the concert with Shiroma. In fact, Zenchai invited her for dinner. Then after we had eaten, as the sun went down (Zenchai purposely built the stadium in a spot in the garden where the last rays of sunshine fell), Zenchai dashed into the yard and lit a long line of candles. He created quite an atmosphere and cheered Shiroma on as she took her position. 

Shiroma has performed professionally on some great stages around the world and in front of big crowds, but even she admitted she'd seen nothing quite like this. 

The music was amazing, as was the setting. Jamie and Kobra took their places. Zenchai even held a candle, as they do at concerts. 

When the candles burned out, we cleaned up - in time for some banana cake and, for Zenchai, much-needed sleep. 

*We hope to post a video of this event shortly

 

 

 

 

 

 

Piracanga: Anyone For Capoeira?

HANDSTANDS, cartwheels, forward rolls…I couldn't do them when I was a kid and more supple. What hope did I have now?

That was the thought that surged through my mind initially when challenged with the idea of trying capoeira, a traditional Brazilian martial art/dance.

I'd watched it being performed in the squares of Salvador and it being practiced in Buenos Aires, Argentina and on beaches in Ecuador. It looked fun - and amazingly acrobatic at times.

Not being especially flexible, I shied away at trying. Jamie had always wanted to give it a go, but it wasn't possible after she became pregnant and then gave birth to Kobra.

The opportunity to learn the art instead came my way. I said yes, mainly to encourage Zenchai to try. However, I've ended up being a regular and Zenchai, who loves to show off his capoeira skills in the streets, has only dabbled at it.

It's an excellent workout, particularly on the legs and shoulders. Now I am doing cartwheels and high kicks, sort of. Zenchai and I have been going twice a week and we are trying to encourage others in the eco village to participate.

To those who aren't familiar with it, capoeira was introduced to Brazil by African slaves in about the 16th century. There are two main styles, Mestre Bimba, which is more of what I have been taught, and Angola, which is slower and practiced lower to the ground.

The slaves used capoeira as a way of defending themselves but also to keep their morale high and preserve their culture. In 1892 it was even outlawed for 20 years (though some claim it was even longer). The punishment if caught doing capoeira was to have your Achilles tendons severed!

Zenchai and I visited a famous capoeira academy in the old part of Salvador and watched and listened as one of the teachers played music and talked to us.

Capoeira is now a national sport in Brazil although it's not competitive. It feels more like play and the idea is to keep moving - never be a still target.

Usually, you will see demonstrations of capoeira in city squares. Be warned in Salvador, though (especially in the Old Town), that if you try to take photos someone will likely approach you for some money. You may also be invited to participate!