G is for Glück

Hard to imagine that he's not always smiling

The word Glück means both "luck" and "happiness," and if this sabbatical has taught me anything, it's that the two are often intertwined. A little luck can go a long way toward happiness.

Leo, however, has been rather unglücklich—unhappy—at his forest kindergarten, despite our initial excitement. The Eingewöhnung (see Erol’s guest post) dragged on for weeks, and while Erol has fully embraced life in the woods, Leo has struggled. Separation has been difficult—sometimes even impossible.

To make matters worse, recent and rather dramatic personnel changes (for those who assume Germans are purely rational and unemotional, think again!) pushed us to realize that this particular kindergarten just isn’t the right fit. It's a shame, but sometimes it's better to move on.

I must admit, we'll miss the forest and some of the lovely staff.

But finding another kindergarten spot, especially on short notice and in the middle of the school year? That seemed damn near impossible.

And yet—wir haben Glück! We’re lucky!

Waldorfkindergarten auf der Haid offered us a spot! When we visited, our eyes lit up—an actual building! With walls! And chairs! And tables! Even some wooden toys!

From hacking wood to playing with wooden toys.

For those unfamiliar with Rudolf Steiner’s anthroposophic pedagogy, Waldorf education is all about nurturing the imagination in a soothing, harmonious environment. Picture lots of natural wood in lieu of plastic, big windows instead of screens, soft pastel fabrics, and an overall sense of calm. I believe fairies and wood nymphs are also involved, but let’s dog-ear that detail for now, shall we?

The location is a bit farther than we’d hoped, but still bikeable. And who knows? Maybe we’ll find a cozy café nearby, where we can sip hot drinks and nibble on croissants during the dreaded Eingewöhnung—a welcome upgrade from standing on a muddy forest path, listening to the relentless pecking of a woodpecker (as soul-nourishing as that may be).

Good fortune and change often go hand in hand. I’ve always loved the Hebrew expression, meshane makom, meshane mazal (change of place, change of luck). So we're cautiously optimistic... of course, not everyone can be happy all the time. Leo is learning what it means to struggle. He’s such a sunny, easygoing kid, but this—this uncertainty, this challenge—is new for him. He’s discovering his contrarian and stubborn side as he navigates change in his own way.

And yet, we are so lucky—to be in this together. Lucky to watch Leo embrace German, even singing songs, despite the language still being a puzzle to him. He has developed a particular knack for insults, his favorite being: “Du bist ein dicker Furz!”(You’re a fat fart!)—which he gleefully riffs on at every opportunity. (Translation of the video below: "You are a fat fart with a bum in your blueberry, with a blueberry in your mouth." The kid's a poet!)

And to witness Erol and Leo, who have navigated this journey side by side, emerge with a bond deeper than ever. They are happiest in each other’s company. I believe that's its own kind of Glück.

Post-kindergarten snack and snuggle

At the Black Forest Line Suspension Bridge in Todtnau

We had another form of Glück last week when my parents came to visit! They weren't particularly lucky with the train from and to Zurich airport (Deutsche Bahn — the German rail system — is not what it used to be), but otherwise, it was a pleasure to share our life here with them.

Seeing Freiburg through their eyes reminded us of what first drew us in: the quaint cobbled streets, the beauty of the Black Forest just beyond the city. Watching them witness how the kids have grown and changed made everything feel more tangible, like our experience here suddenly became real.

I found it particularly entertaining to listen to my dad dust off his rusty German. Although he's Israeli, German was his first language, as my grandparents were refugees from Berlin. While purchasing our tickets for the Todtnau suspension bridge, the cashier, trying to place my dad's accent, asked if he was from Holland, to which my dad replied, "No, I'm from Canada. Our German's a little different." The cashier nodded knowingly while I struggled to stifle a laugh.

On an entirely unrelated note, Fasching—aka Fasnet—is now in full swing in the Black Forest. Rafi had a great time marching in the school parade on Schmutziger Dunshtig (Dirty Thursday), the kickoff event—though he wasn’t thrilled about taking a hard candy to the head.

Fasching Parade at the Lorettoschule

This afternoon, we drove out to Endingen am Kaiserstuhl, a tiny medieval town of 9,000, known for its annual Kinderumzug (children’s parade). It’s a wonderfully silly and joyful event, and yet, in classic German fashion, no one actually seems to smile.

I loved the festive decorations and costumes, though some wouldn’t exactly pass a political correctness test.. to put it mildly.

Found on the side of a building in Endingen. The text is in a dialect called Niederalemannisch and means: "Jester, Jester, Jojo, left his stick standing, then found it again with an old rag."

The highlight of the parade was the Narren and Jokili (fools and jesters), who roamed the streets shouting "Narri!" and awaiting our enthusiastic reply of "Narro!"—all while happily bopping us on the head with what I first assumed were beige balloons but later learned were, in fact, inflated pig bladders. Long live tradition! You can watch the video and judge for yourselves. I could add more details, but I feel like inflated pig bladder is as good a note as any to end on, don't you?