The mercury’s rising and with it the tenor of life. With Eid around the corner, families are torn between the joy of the sacred festival and concern at the rising costs of celebrations.
Parents are keeping a wary eye on expenses because soon the juggernaut of expenses for the new school year will roll down upon us. Meanwhile, the summer holidays don’t represent a respite from expenses – there are holidays to be planned. For most expats its about flying back home and often, in these straitened times, companies only offer passage to the employee while the spouse and children have to be paid for out of pocket. That means many families with small kids go on separate holidays with one parent staying back simply because they cannot afford a ‘full-fam holiday’.
For many others, even that is a luxury and travel back home is kept for emergencies and very special occasions such as a family wedding. In the meantime, in Bahrain, how do we keep children supervised and happy, especially if both parents are working? Enter the summer camp.
You know the season’s changed when you find colourful adverts for summer camp popping up in your social media. But parents beware. Often the reality is very different from what is advertised. I have seen kids packed into cavernous indoor spaces, fours hours a day, going through the motions of the activities advertised – a round of fitness activities largely consisting of movements in a space that can be measured by an outstretched child-length arm, ‘art classes’ using crayons and paper torn from drawing books and distributed, Bollywood-style dance classes where a few basic steps are taught (and later re-enacted for the summer camp ‘graduation’ ceremony). The list of activities masquerading as enriching lessons is inventive.
There are two problems with Bahrain’s summer camps: one, they are practically unlicensed and nobody really pays attention to staffing, safety or curriculum. Two, they represent a monetising of space – in clubs and schools and malls – which is done without much thought to suitability or aesthetics. In one shopping centre, the summer classes are run in a box-like space parallel to the children’s rides and video game area and even in batches of 30, the child-to-instructor ratio is inadequate.
Speaking of space, I am always surprised at the under utilisation of the space in private and government schools. I have seen in the UK, how schools are encouraged to lend their classrooms, gyms and auditorium spaces for community classes and performances. In Bahrain too, this was the norm till the early 2000s. I recall many cash-strapped clubs organising cultural events in government school halls and even in private schools.
Today, event organisers and schools have to jump through an accordion of hoops before the ministry concerned will even acknowledge its request. Of course, that delays arrangements and these lovely school halls and grounds lie unused instead of serving to strengthen Bahrain’s cultural bonds with other countries. Even as bilateral cultural MoU are signed, the ground realities of bureaucracy defeat the intent.
We need to rewire our use of performance spaces and also take a closer look at what exactly we want our children to imbibe in summer classes. They need to make new friends, explore new interests in surroundings that are creative and sensitive to their needs. They are most certainly not just a demographic to be milked.
meeraresponse@gmail.com
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