Update I: Alex is in school!

Things on the domestic front have proceeded well since last posting as well: thanks to some pretty breathtakingly efficient playing of the school bureaucracy, we were able to get Alex enrolled in the local high school (the only one in the state that is both coed and doesn’t require uniforms) such that he could start class on Thursday!  Stunning actually, that with Amelie going in on Monday morning (after their two weeks of spring break) and with a multitude of little details to take care of including verification of visas and pro-rated fees and actual placement interview with the principal on Wednesday morning, he could start the next day, being shepherded around the new surroundings by “buddies” assigned to him, meeting most of his teachers, and getting squared away. 

Several clutch performances were necessary for this to happen, not least Amelie’s determination to get things done, but also incredibly friendly front-office people at the school itself, at the main office of education (Amelie started referring to this person as “Saint Peta,” she was so helpful and can-do about everything), back home (with our friend Michele securing a transcript from Alex’s old school--you can’t get the full previous year online, only the truncated present year--and scanning it and e-mailing it) and again Wednesday at the school (getting the application forms we’d filled out the previous hour faxed over to the central office right then, rather than forcing us to go to Office Works or wherever to get it done).  Yet with our MasterCard heated up (this is unsurprisingly more expensive than public school in the states, but a lot cheaper than private school tuition), we got the call that afternoon that he could start the next morning.  Amazing.

We couldn’t help reflecting with some sadness at how different this experience was than what would probably have transpired the other way: our experiences with Berkeley city bureaucrats and educrats have been so fraught with “No, not for two weeks” and “No, that person is away from her desk doing her nails” and “No, that’s not in my job description” and “No of course you won’t have a direct phone line to call to get your queries answered, instead you’ll be in voice-mail menu hell” that we couldn’t imagine getting a positive result in three weeks, much less three days.  Perhaps this is another side benefit of having ended up in an apartment in such a chi-chi postcode as Mosman: the wheels might well not have turned so smoothly somewhere else.

There are a couple of curve balls--the only language option available is Mandarin, which may be semi tough to catch up in (though the standard does not appear to be very high)--but the cafeteria meets Alex's specifications, there are people to play hoops with, and (if we can persuade him to do it) there is the option to take Learn To Surf as his PE.  He may end up with tennis just for the familiarity...   So we hope for the best.  The math isn't out of range, and he and I are continuing to do our almost-daily sessions keeping up with the homework grids sent from Berkeley.  Stay tuned.