The boys' school is raising money for Namibia and tonight they held their fundraiser. I took Walter whose job was to sell environmental quizzes. The 5th grade class was selling porridge, but since we had mistaken the time (Norway runs on military time and so it throws us that 16:30 is 4:30) Mark lost his porridge-selling slot.
As I walked about the booths selling used clothing, cake, books and games, I felt a sudden kinship with all the non-English speaking parents I have ever seen at school events in the States. Your kids manage, but as parents you walk about amiable but isolated, cocooned in linguistic and cultural difference, hoping to hear your native tongue from one of the familiar but foreign parent clusters you wander past.
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