P is for Pfingstferien

Peonies are called Pfingstrosen (Pentacost roses) in German, and they're everywhere.

Having sat through completely non-denominational “winter concerts” at Withrow Avenue Public School in Toronto—where not even a red-nosed reindeer, let alone Jesus, made an appearance—I’d gotten used to the kind of “inclusivity” that scrubs out any trace of religion. But Germany? Germany either missed that memo or politely tossed it in the recycling bin.

Rafi’s school here is technically public, but it’s still influenced by the Church. Which means religion class every Friday and not just Easter holidays in April, but also Pfingsten (Pentecost!) a month later. Apparently, Baden-Württemberg schools run on a four-weeks-on, two-weeks-off rhythm. When we planned this sabbatical, we naively assumed school would wind down in June like it does in Canada. Nope. Turns out they break for half of June to celebrate Jesus’ message being passed to the apostles through flaming tongues (thank you, Google), and then everyone goes back to school for all of July.

Heading back from the pool in style.

Oops. Looks like Rafi’s about to become a second-grade dropout. Not that he minds. He’s just focused on completing the tenth and final Schreibschrift (cursive) workbook so he can finally earn his long-coveted Füller (fountain pen), a major milestone for German kids. We promised we’d buy him one as a parting gift. He's also keen on spending as much time as possible at the newly opened Lorettobad, the outdoor swimming pool sandwiched conveniently between home and school.

All of this is to say: it’s our final week of school and kindergarten! Next week marks the beginning of Pfingstferien(Pentecost holidays), and we’ll be headed back to Canada just as everyone else here returns to class. I can hardly believe it. My heart feels a little heavy. Though it took Leo longer than Rafi (and a full location change), both boys have settled beautifully into their lives here. They feel at home in Freiburg, and it’s been a joy to watch.

Group shot with his teammates

Today was Rafi’s last soccer practice with VfR Merzhausen. We’ll miss his sweetheart coach, Leon, and the steady stream of “Jawohl!” “Gut!” and “Schade!” echoing across the field. It poured rain just before practice, but like true Freiburgers (clad in head-to-toe Gore-Tex), we suited up and biked over to cheer him on.

Modeling the VfR Merzhausen hat and scarf

Rafi’s skills have come a long way—he dribbles confidently, passes with flair, and only occasionally flinches when someone kicks the ball at him. Leon had him lead the team in a final cheer and gifted him a team toque and scarf (perfect for Toronto!) to remember them by. I got a little weepy.

Rafi leading his teammates in the VfR cheer!

All this emotion came on the heels of my only independent getaway during this sabbatical: three glorious child-free days in Greece with my dear friend Simone. She was preparing to lead a yoga retreat (currently in progress) on the island of Paros, and we met up in Athens Thursday night before hopping a ferry to Hydra—famous for Leonard Cohen, donkeys, stray cats, and not much else. In other words: heaven. No cars, just cobblestone streets, locals escaping the city, and endlessly flowing Malagouzia wine.

With Simone at 592 meters, atop Mount Eros

We hiked up Mount Eros, visited the Monastery of the Prophet Elias, where we nearly bought some handmade olive oil soap just so that we could summon a monk to make change, and rewarded ourselves with fabulous gelato.

But the best part? We talked. And talked. And talked. It’s the one thing I’ve really missed while living abroad: the kind of unstructured, soul-replenishing time you only get with a close girlfriend. Thank you, Simone, for filling my cup (and my wine glass).

Yamas!

Simone left for Paros Sunday morning, and I lounged in bed and had a leisurely breakfast before sailing back to Athens to spend the afternoon at the Acropolis. Wow. Seeing the birthplace of democracy also made me weepy (seriously, what doesn't make me cry these days?!).

P is also for Parthenon!

Of course, meaningful friend time means time away from the kids—always a welcome reprieve. I love them dearly, but wow, I sure do see a lot of them. Good thing I squeezed in some rest, because now we’re gearing up for our final three weeks in Germany—with zero childcare. Wish us luck!

Leo's neverending play date

Meanwhile, Erol was in full superdad mode while I was away. He pulled off an epic playdate at Henry’s for Leo, braved a 32-degree heatwave to shepherd Rafi through his final soccer tournament, and somehow managed to squeeze in a sweet riverside moment with Leo, dipping their toes in the Dreisam—while Rafi was off whacking the life out of a piñata at a birthday party. I came home to sun-kissed, happy kids and a husband who’d absolutely earned his own solo trip to Greece... or at least a solo bottle of Malagouzia. Efcharistó, mein Schatz!

Dipping in the Dreisam River