Sunday Mornings: Coffee, Reflections and Music

The building that my primary school used to occupy was, if my memory serves me right, old, dark and had cracked walls due to the high level of humidity. It was on two levels: ground and first floor. The classrooms were small with students (usually more than thirty per class) huddling together as best as we could. Concrete would be a good way to describe my previous surroundings. There was a little, tiny, teeny, weenie mini-garden down on the ground floor, but, blink! and you could miss it. I think that the school was on the grounds of what used to be an old colonial house because each classroom looked like a bedroom.

By the way, I’m not slagging my old primary school off, just in case you’re getting that impression. I’m merely warming you up for today’s post.

Despite these inconveniences I spent some of the better years of my life in that building. From reception to Year 5 (I did my Year 6 in a different school) I was encouraged to try my best. Especially when it came to reading, writing, dancing and singing. Sadly, this bias towards the belles lettres brought unwelcome consequences: from an early age I carried the label of “not good at maths”.

But I digress. Overall, my experience at school was a positive one and this was due in great part to my teachers. However, there’s another detail that I remember very clearly. We all used to do our PE lessons in the local park and had a rota for each year group. There was hardly any space in the school to do physical education. We had what you could possibly call a patio but it was – that word, again – concrete. We did have our assemblies there; at some of which I sang songs and recited poems. But other than the little, tiny, teeny, weenie, mini-garden I described above there was no other greenery in the school.

That was the norm for most urban schools in Havana. And that probably explains why we – or I, rather, as a city type of person – have always had a funny relationship with the countryside, gardening and the environment.

Recently on one of my Facebook pages, an acquaintance and dance student of mine asked fellow FBers why in Cuba, with such fertile soil as we’ve always had, there weren’t more people taking advantage of it. I’m not quoting her exact question, but it was along those lines. I remember commenting on her thread but I’m afraid to say that my initial response was too laconic. Her enquiry did leave me thinking why, when I was a boy, I don’t recall my neighbours being very enthusiastic about using their balconies, nooks and crannies to grow more fruit’n’veg.

Fast forward many years later and here I am in good ol’ Blighty and my lifestyle is very different, even if my surroundings are still rather urban. Although I’ve yet to visit New York, Madrid, Mexico City, Paris, Rome or any other large metropolis, I can safely say that London is probably the city with most parks and green spaces in the world. What this has done is encourage me, city boy, to enjoy the outdoors a lot more. It has motivated me to take walks in my local park (or parks, there are many near where I live), woods and immerse myself even more in what many of my fellow British readers and fellow bloggers will recognise as an intrinsic part of life in this country. This picture of green spaces in urban settings didn't come out of the ether. Inner-city playgrounds have slowly been transforming their equipment, making it look more rustic. Metal climbing frames are being substituted for wooden ones. Rural motifs are springing up here and there, in many parts of London.

However a word of caution here. Parallel to this fascination for the countryside, there’s also an objectification and commodification of it, in my opinion. Many packets of crisps, for instance, carry a label nowadays that reads “handmade by farmers in…”. Food, whose provenance is unknown, doesn’t get the same attention as products sourced organically. One could say that this is the result of a more conscientious attitude on the part of consumers, but it could also be nothing but a new food fad.

If it’s the latter, then that would probably throw some light on another problem: that of children playing outdoors. Or not playing enough. A couple of articles recently made me think of my own childhood and how active I was. Because, despite having been born and raised in downtown Havana, bang in the midst of the hustle-bustle, I did lead a very active life, climbing trees, playing baseball and chasing a football in the local – concrete – park. George Monbiot, who’s one of the UK’s foremost environmentalists, wrote a few days ago in one of his regular columns that “Since the 1970s the area in which children may roam without supervision has decreased by almost 90%. In one generation the proportion of children regularly playing in wild places in the UK has fallen from more than half to fewer than one in 10. In the US, in just six years (1997-2003) children with particular outdoor hobbies fell by half. Eleven- to 15-year-olds in Britain now spend, on average, half their waking day in front of a screen.” So, whilst we worry about where Kettle Chips come from, we (that’s a journalistic “we”) limit our children’s physical activities outside the home and stymy their interaction with nature.

Oh, what I would give to be a child again and play with the equipment I see in so many parks and playgrounds here in the UK! That’s why when my children were younger and I took them to the park, I ended up hoisting myself up on to the rustic-looking, wooden climbing frame (don’t worry, I stopped doing it when I realised I was embarrassing my offspring). But I also have to put my hand up and blame myself for not doing more to educate my son and daughter on the importance of playing outside. Yes, we have gone camping many times with the Woodcraft Folk and on our own and try to look after the environment. But the grazes and bruises we all acquired when we were little (especially if you’re of a certain age like me) and which we showed off to all and sundry like medals won in combat, are almost invisible in children’s limbs nowadays.

In the case of schools that don’t encourage outdoor learning, part of the problem is fear of reprisal by parents and/or carers. Health and safety regulation has become so powerful that if little Jimmy or Susan gets a cut on his/her knee whilst doing PE, parents sometimes threaten the school with litigation. Therefore many educational institutions become overcautious and overprotective. There’s also too much emphasis on the school curriculum and targets -and less on all-round education. And thirdly, there’s a shift away from humanities and arts towards more numeracy-focused content.

These reasons differ from what I witnessed as a boy back in Havana. This, by the way, is also my answer to my fellow FBer. In the Cuban capital anything remotely suggesting countryside in the 70s and 80s was usually derided and mocked. The word “guajiro” (peasant), though neutral, can be pejorative depending on the context. No one, as far as I can remember, wanted to be a “guajiro” when they grew up. No one wanted to work in the countryside or till the land. This situation changed radically in the 90s as soon as the economic crisis kicked in. Suddenly four of my neighbours began to grow vegetables and raise animals such as chickens, pigs and ducks. The tables had been turned. Now peasants mattered and fruit’n’veg was not a distant concept.

Maybe a similar scenario is unfolding in the UK, food fads notwithstanding. Perhaps the optimist in me would like to believe that we’re seeing a renaissance of a greener lifestyle, more environment-friendly. Who knows, this might even lead to a revival of outdoor learning. After all, most schools in the UK, even if they are located in urban areas, look like the one at which I work: they have a large field and occasionally they abut on a park. Not a little, tiny, teeny, weenie mini-garden, but a proper park. The opportunity is there, let’s just seize it.

For the second part of today’s post I will leave you with a clip of one of the most original jazz composers there’s been in the last sixty years, who sadly died a few days ago. Rest In Peace, maestro Brubeck!

© 2012

Next Post: “Urban Diary”, to be published on Wednesday 12^th December at 11:59pm (GMT)

Image taken from the National Trust website.