Children and Culture - September 11, 2008

This is the boys scrambling to get into their costumes when they saw us biking through the commune

The pig joined the dance then entreated us to deposit money into the lion's mouth

The city resonates with the sound of drumming

The shops are full of costumes and masks - I am not sure if this is a lion or a unicorn






Children and Culture - September 11, 2008


Last Friday I went to the beginning of the school year opening at one of the kindergartens. Every educational institution has an official opening for the September start of the school year. The children have just has a three month summer break which sounds like an extraordinarily long time but many of them attend summer school throughout this time.

The opening ceremony was a big event that had clearly been thoroughly rehearsed. All of the teachers were dressed in beautiful ao dai and many of the children were done up in fancy party finery including full make-up. I thought at first that some of the little girls had had their hair curled but then I realized that part of the “look” is curly ringlets pinned to their straight black pigtails.

The ceremony was an opportunity for me to ponder again about the differences between the children here and in NZ. There were about 400 children, aged approximately three to six years, present. They were squeezed into the outside area on long lines of little chairs, ten rows deep in front of a low stage. About a third of the children had helium balloons bought by their parents from vendors outside the gate. The teachers were in attendance, on the outside of the group but most of the time not amongst the children. Chattering noisily the children waited for about 45 minutes for the ceremony to begin and then watched performances and speeches for nearly another 45 minutes.

What I found really interesting was the behavior of the children. In all of that time, even though there were so many children present, and there was the potential provocation of some having attractive balloons, I only saw two minor fights break out. In each several children slapped and poked but fairly quickly resolved the problem without any intervention. At times children stood on their chairs and were told to sit down by teachers but they never attempted to leave their allocated place. On a number of occasions balloons popped but there were no tears of protest, only laughter and shouts. Nobody tried to snatch a balloon from anyone else and when some extras were given out by the teachers there was no snatching, pleas for a particular color or protests from children who did not get one.

There were a number of performances. Groups of costumed children danced and sang their way through a number of well practiced, lengthy routines and a band of young drummers astounded me with the ability to maintain time with each other. During the performances the children in the audience were excited and noisy but amazingly attentive to the events on the stage. During the speeches they were so noisy that it was difficult to hear, even with a sound system, but they responded enthusiastically and in unison to shouted out questions about whether they were looking forward to the coming year. After the ceremony there was a mêlée of children carrying their chairs as they dispersed back to their classrooms but still no problems occurred.

Watching these young citizens who, despite the crowding and length of time of the ceremony, were so compliant about staying where directed and almost unanimously peaceful with one another, induced me to reflect on our differing cultural expectations of children. The children were not subdued – they were animated and talkative and the teachers, while firm at times about the expectation to remain seated, we not harsh or overly directive. I cannot begin to imagine a group of New Zealand children managing as well in a similar situation.

I am very curious about why our children are so different. On the streets around my hone I watch the children and their families. Little children often play on the narrow footpaths within inches of the busy traffic but staying within the unmarked boundaries of their allotted area. Usually babies and toddlers sitting in walkers and on adults’ laps or hips do not struggle to get down and little children sit holding on obediently on bicycles and motorbikes. Perhaps the ones who don’t follow the rules don’t survive!

Apart from one little chap, who unfortunately lives right next door, I seldom hear children crying. Sadly, “Grizzly George” as we have unkindly labeled him, is a very unhappy little child of about three or four years old. He possibly has a disability of some sort but it is difficult to tell – I will get Nicky to do a “diagnosis” when she is here! “George” usually begins the day screaming at about 5:00 am and often demonstrates an extraordinary ability to maintain this pattern throughout the day and late into the evening. His poor mother sometimes brings him to greet me but unfortunately the poor child is terrified and screams like a banshee despite my attempts to talk to him or to show him toys.

The primary school age children are in many ways much more independent than those at home. Without accompanying adults, on foot and over-size bicycles, children make their way through the crowded streets even in the dark. They confidently negotiate the busy traffic, undertake all sorts of domestic and business chores and care for younger siblings. Observing the children here certainly gives me many opportunities to reflect on our notions of childhood and the role of children in our communities.

Currently, as the mid-autumn moon festival approaches many of the children are already participating in lion dances late into the night. Competing bands of children (almost always boys) roam the streets some banging loudly on drums while others in their team, dressed in lion and pig costumes, dance and then harass householders, shopkeepers and passers-by for money. Teenage boys organize themselves into large groups and vie for territory in which to perform. Apparently on the eve of the festival (the 14th) many householders hang money from the second floor and the “lions” scramble up to retrieve it. This is clearly a very exciting, and profitable, time for the young people here.

When Ann and I were out biking last Sunday we went to a small local commune. As we went past a group of young people called out and scrambled into costumes while others began drumming loudly. Within minutes we were treated to an extended and wonderfully expressive display of dancing. The main creature, sometimes a “lion” and sometimes a “unicorn” (I can’t tell which is which yet) had two people artfully operating it. The dance included lots of comical movements at ground level and leaps into the air. After an extended period they were joined by another dancer in a pig mask who was carrying a fan. This dancer was the one who made it clear that our duty, as well as being an appreciative audience, was to place money in the lion’s jaws. I was more than happy to comply on this occasion because it had such a joyful and generous display but I have resisted some of the groups on the streets whose energy seems to be almost completely focused on vigorously demanding cash. I am looking forward to the actual festival evening but am beginning to understand why Brian, a volunteer who has been here for a number of years, declares that it is a good time to hide inside with the gates firmly locked!