Dropping Off The Kids

Back in California dropping off the kids at school was a well-orchestrated nearly military drill. Parking was limited so the cars passed in front of the gates one by one, attendants opening the doors and accompanying the kids to the sanctuary of the courtyard. At no time was a car to stop or, God forbid, was the driver ever to leave the car. In no case was the Post Office across the street to be used to park the car no matter how many empty stalls were left in its parking lot. The Postmaster had complained to the school about unauthorized use of parking spots.

Here, there are no attendants. There are no parking spots at the school. There is, instead, chaos. The street itself has a couple of paid parking spots, always taken. In front of the school is a crosswalk to the park, long enough for three or four cars to completely block the pedestrians walking through the park from the metro. The street is barely wide enough for two cars; rear-view mirrors collide regularly. When these spots are taken, cars stop in the middle of street or block the entrances to underground parking lots of the local apartment buildings. Nobody cares. Indeed there is a kind of solidarity among the driving parents engdendered by the difficulty of finding a spot, rushing the kids out of the car, doing a hurried goodbye hug and kiss, and rushing back to the car before traffic has backed up around the street and into the rest of the neighborhood.

One red-letter day a moving truck blocked the street entirely for a good thirty minutes. Naturally all the parents abandoned their cars and walked the kids to school. This was the kind of event that can create a true sense of community among otherwise harried and unsmiling Parisians. The nightmare of being stuck in the street with the other drivers for 30 minutes! The pointless honking! The absolute joy of having an unbeatable excuse for being late to work! My five year old daughter talks about it to this day - whenever we see a big truck she asks if we'll be stuck in the street and if we'll just leave the car behind as we did that day. She is excited about the prospect. Sometimes I am too.