Growing Up in Boarding School

Though Rossella is by and large a wonderful young woman and a joy to be around, she does have her teenage moments and attitudes. She doesn’t like to wake up in the morning, her floor is usually strewn with clothing, she is undisciplined about studying… I sometimes reflect ruefully on the fact that my parents missed out on many of the pains and joys of my adolescence: I spent it most of it away at Woodstock School.

The idea of sending your child away to school is anathema to many parents (and perfectly normal to others, depending on culture, class, and family history), but it can be a fun and useful experience for the teens themselves. They become self-regulating and independent because they simply have no choice. Many common teen habits cannot be tolerated at boarding school – some forms of behavior would simply be impossible to manage en masse.

You Gotta Get Up…

Living in a dorm means responding to bells: bells to wake up, bells to go to meals, bells for showers, bells for lights-out, bells for emergencies, and of course there are the school bells throughout the day. When the morning bell rings, you had better roll out of bed on your own, because there’s no mother there to keep coming back to nag you. If you persist in lying in bed, you’ll miss breakfast, and if you’re late for school, there are consequences. Needless to say, this is useful discipline for later working life.

Midlands bulletin board

the routines of dorm life

Keep Your Room Tidy

When I was at Woodstock, dorm rooms were inspected once or twice weekly and, if we left them messy, we got demerits that could add up to gating (a punishment that meant not being allowed to leave the dorms for anything other than classes for weeks or months) or restricted to campus (no bazaar on Saturday!). Being thus forced to clean up after ourselves was good training for any teenager, especially those who had servants to do everything at home (as was common in Asia at the time).

(Tidiness doesn’t seem to be quite as enforced as it was in my day. At least they matched Ross with an equally messy roommate.)

Manage Your Money

My parents never had to argue with me about pocket money. We had a (very small) set allowance at school – I think the maximum allowed during my senior year was 100 rupees a month. This amount was equal for everybody, and there was (at least in theory) no way to beg parents for extra if we had spent it all before the end of the month. In that situation, you learn to spend carefully – another very useful life lesson.

Manage Your Studies

I suppose all boarding schools have specific times set aside for studying. At Woodstock in my day it was 1.5 or 2 hours after dinner, four nights a week – if I remember correctly, we had a shorter study hall on Wednesdays to allow time for a social activity afterwards. Any free periods during the school day were also designated as study halls, which you did in the library under supervision (it was a Senior priviledge to be allowed to study anywhere on campus).

If you were on the A or B honor roll (3.5 or 4.0 grade point average), you could do evening study hall in your room rather than in the dining hall. A teacher would come around once or twice to check that we were each in our own rooms, but otherwise it was up to us to use the time wisely.

Practicalities

Even if we weren’t used to having chores at home, we had to take care of some things at school ourselves, such as laundry. Not washing it ourselves, but bundling it up each week for the dhobi (washerman), with a checklist of how many of each item we were sending, then checking it in again and chasing down anything that was missing when the bundle came back. If we needed clean clothes next week, we knew to make sure they got into the wash this week. (Or, preferably, the week before – clothing takes a long time to dry in the monsoon.)

We had to take care of our clothes and our possessions, replace things that needed replacing, etc. – again, no mom around to notice that all your socks have holes in them and your t-shirts have all gone gray.

Communal Living

Living in a dormitory with 100+ other kids, well, you’d better learn to get along with people. For starters, we all had at least one roommate, and the rooms weren’t huge, so you had to respect others’ personal space, and learn to find privacy when you could. I tended to need a lot of time to myself, so most days I would go straight down to the dorms after school, when others were off doing sports etc., so I had at least my room to myself.

Survival Skills

Here I’m thinking mainly of food – an obsession of growing teens, the more so in any institutional cooking situation where the meals are… well, probably not like Mom makes. The downside is that you learn to eat fast, so that, if there is anything good on your plate, you can go back for seconds before stocks run out. You can often spot a boarding school survivor by this behavior: he or she is the one waiting impatiently for a post-dinner coffee while the rest of the party are still on their salads!

The upside is that, while you deeply appreciate good food, you’re not a fussy eater, and can survive on just about anything when you have to.

The Rules

Living with parents, teens are always testing boundaries: “Why do I have to be home at a certain time? What do you mean I’m too young to go to the disco?” This struggle for independence is an important part of teen development, but exhausting for parents, who receive conflicting advice from the entire world (“Be stricter! Be more understanding!”) and may not agree even between themselves on what’s to be done.

A boarding school has set rules that everyone knows and must live by. It’s clear why the rules need to exist, even when they are more restrictive than you might have at home: it’s far more difficult to keep track of several hundred teenagers than one or two.

At school, there’s not much leeway to argue about the rules, and the penalties for infractions are clearly stated and (usually) fairly applied. So it’s up to you, the student, to decide whether to risk breaking the rules, and you know exactly what to expect if you get caught. Boarding school in this way is a good introduction to adult life: you learn early that you are responsible for your actions.

The Results

A young person leaving boarding school for college is likely to be far more mature in many practical ways than his or her peers who come straight from home. One Woodstock classmate of mine said that he felt many of his college classmates wasted their first year simply getting accustomed to being on their own, whereas he was able to be productive from Day 1.

Last but not least, boarding school teaches us humility: instead of being Mom and Dad’s pampered darling, we each have to pull our own weight in the community – which includes aiding and comforting our peers when they need it. We learn to take care of those around us, and that it is natural and human and right to do so.

And that’s not a bad lesson to be starting life with.

Italian Garden 2007: June

The garden has been largely left to its own devices in the last six weeks, and is thriving. We’ve had monsoon-like rains almost every day for weeks, so it certainly doesn’t need watering, and the vegetables are large enough now that they’re mostly holding their own against the weeds. Only three of the six zucchine plants survived: two at the bottom of the retaining wall, one in the main flat part of the orto. It looks as if the latter plant will be more productive, probably because it gets more sun. Six or so eggplant plants remain after attacks by beetles and slugs – we had a lot of beetles this year, I’ve never seen the like in Italy! – and are just now flowering:

eggplant blossom

eggplant blossom

We have lots of tomato plants, though a couple of them are hard-pressed to find sun around the enormous leaves of the broccoli plants. The broccoli had better be damned productive (in fall/winter) – they take up a lot of room!

broccoli plants

broccoli plants (the yellow blossoms in the center are zucchine) – compare with their size earlier!

The fennel stopped producing bulbs and got long and stalky, then it flowered. I pulled out most of it as it was shading out the lettuce, parsley, and green onions. But it’s so pretty I left some just to look at.

fennel blooms

fennel blooms

While I was away in May nobody dead-headed the roses, so the plants put all their energy into seeds and stopped blooming. Now that I’ve been cutting them back savagely, they’re starting to bloom again, though not as spectacularly as before.

zucchini flower on the plant

zucchine blossom – the plant produces male and female flowers. The female ones turn into zucchine, the male flowers do not, so are eaten as flowers – stuffed with ricotta cheese and fried in batter, if you’ve got the cooking skills for that (I don’t)

figs

a promising crop of figs – yum!

harvest in a basket

Jun 15, 2007 – today’s harvest from our garden: leggy lettuce (the turtles like it), parsley, zucchine, apricots (all we’ll get this year – 6), raspberries

photo at top: herbs for sale at an Italian garden center

How to Obtain an Indian Visa in Milan

Today’s hurdle in getting Ross off to Woodstock School is getting her student visa. I have had several occasions to get visas for India at the Indian Consulate in Milan, most recently two years ago when Ross and I travelled to India together.

It wasn’t easy that time. We were both travelling on US passports, and, as I already knew, the Indian consulate, in order to give a visa to a non-Italian national at a consulate in Italy, wanted proof of residence. This is usually easy to get: you go to your local Ufficio d’Anagrafe, where you are registered as a resident of your comune (municipality), and they print out something saying you’re a resident, with your home address and the date at which your residency began.

The hitch was that at that time we had been in Lecco for only two years, so our residence forms showed “resident in Lecco since 2003,” and the Indian consulate wanted proof that we had been in Italy for at least three years (what were we supposed to do if we had just moved to Italy…?). I happened to still have copies of some very old residency forms from Milan for myself (in Italy, keep copies of every official form that has ever passed through your hands – you never know), but had no such thing for Ross.

I pointed out to the Indian consulate employee that, as my daughter, Ross was likely to have been living with me in Italy for the last 15 years, but the lady insisted on documentary evidence.

Fortunately, Milan’s main Ufficio d’Anagrafe is right next door to the Indian Consulate. I ran over there, stood in line for 20 minutes, paid 13 euros for a “historical” certificate of residence showing that Ross had been resident in Milan since 1991, ran back to the consulate with that, and they accepted it.

This time around, I wasn’t too sure what they would require to issue a student visa to a US citizen resident in Italy, besides the official letters from Woodstock School and the SAGE Program showing her as a “bona fide student”. I checked the Indian Embassy website, and could not find much except a new form to be filled in by non-Italian nationals which will then get faxed… where? – for a fee, too. The site also had no information about the hours of the Milan consulate – I could swear this info used to be there, but can’t find it now.

I wanted Ross to suffer through this process with me (and I wasn’t sure whether they might want to see her face), so I insisted that she accompany me on the visa expedition. The earliest we could do it was today, now that school has ended (she couldn’t have applied much earlier anyway, as the student visa is only good for one year and she will not graduate from Woodstock until May 30th, 2008).

So we got up bright and early this morning to come to Milan, picked up some cash to pay for the visa, and had coffee and brioche at a bar near via Larga. Swung into the side street where the consulate entrance is located, and saw the usual line of (clearly Indian) people. Then the man at the door told us that for visas we had to go someplace completely new. (Would it not have been useful to put this information on the website…?)

We fell in with an Italian in the same situation, and shared a taxi to the new location, via Marostica 34. Along the way we talked about his reasons for being in India: he lives at Auroville, and told us a lot about that. Sounds interesting; I’ll have to look into it more closely.

The new Indian Visa Outsourcing Center (phone 02 48701173) is very posh compared with the old consular office, with rows of seating, air conditioning, and even numbers to take (though I’m not sure how far these were actually being observed). The service truly is outsourced, to Italians. (I will refrain from pointing out the humor in this.)

Of course (story of my life), we’re a special case. The man at the window had never before had to do a student visa for a non-Italian national, and wanted to call the consulate for instructions. So he asked us to wait until “after 11” when they could call and figure out what to do with us.

later – We were called back to the window a few minutes after 11, the senior man of the agency (called Nando) looked at the forms and said they could be submitted as-is. He didn’t seem to think it would be any big deal, which relaxed me quite a bit. The visa might be ready as early as next Wednesday, otherwise I’ll pick it up when I return from the UK the following week. It cost 120 euros – Americans pay more than anyone else in the world for visas to India, apparently in a spirit of reciprocity for the amount Indians have to pay to get visas to the US. (Plus there was the fee for the mysterious fax.)

I’m still a bit nervous that something will go wrong – when it comes to Indian visas, I’m never happy until I have the damn thing in my hand. But I think it’ll be okay.

Ross, now that the Italian school year is over, is finally able to relax enough to get excited about this adventure she has chosen. And that makes up for all the hassle and stress I’m going through to make it happen for her.

Jun 20 – Visa in hand!

Getting Girls Into Science Early

During my recent trip to Colorado, I stayed with Tin Tin Su, a Woodstock School classmate who is now an associate professor in Molecular Cellular Developmental Biology at the University of Colorado in Boulder.

Tin Tin is good at explaining what she does, and delights in sharing her knowledge with people of all ages. I was thrilled to be able to capture her giving a first lesson in fruit fly genetics to a highly intelligent – and highly interested – girl named Sasha. Tin Tin was thrilled, too: as a “sideline” she heads up a project at CU aimed at helping to equalize the number of men and women in sciences. Showing girls from a very early age that science is a cool and fun career – she considers that part of her mandate.

Our Lady of Drosophila

Jul 15, 2007

Tin Tin is also a painter. A few years ago she made a painting as a gift for her lab, which she explains in this video.

Learn Italian in Song: Come Mai

by 883

Come Mai

How On Earth?

Le notti non finiscono The nights don’t end
all’alba nella via at dawn in the street
le porto a casa insieme a me I bring them home with me
ne faccio melodia And make melodies of them
e poi mi trovo a scrivere And then I find myself writing
chilometri di lettere Kilometers of letters
sperando di vederti ancora qui. Hoping to see you here again.
Inutile parlarne sai It’s useless to talk about it, you know
non capiresti mai You’d never understand
seguirti fino all’alba e poi Follow you until dawn and then
vedere dove vai See where you go
mi sento un po’ bambino ma I feel a bit like a child, but
lo so con te non finirà I know that with you it won’t end
il sogno di sentirsi dentro un film. this dream of feeling oneself inside a film.
(ritornello) (refrain)
E poi all’improvviso And then suddenly
sei arrivata tu you arrived
non so chi l’ha deciso I don’t know who decided it
m’hai preso sempre più You took me ever more
una quotidiana guerra A daily war
con la razionalità With rationality
ma va bene purchè serva But it’s okay as long as it serves
per farmi uscire. to get me out.
Come mai, ma chi sarai How on earth, but who are you
per fare questo a me to do this to me?
notti intere ad aspettarti Whole nights waiting for you,
ad aspettare te waiting for you
dimmi come mai, ma chi sarai Tell me how on earth, but who are you
per farmi stare qui to make me stay here
qui seduto in una stanza Here seated in a room
pregando per un sì. Praying for a yes.
Gli amici se sapessero My friends if they knew
che sono proprio io that it was really me
pensare che credevano To think that they believed
che fossi quasi un dio that I was almost a god
perchè non mi fermavo mai Because I never stopped,
nessuna storia inutile no useless love stories
uccidersi d’amore Kill oneself for love?
ma per chi? But for who?
(ritornello) (refrain)
if you find this useful and want more, let me know!

Deirdré Straughan on Italy, India, the Internet, the world, and now Australia