Playing truant
The kids are not in school today … but it’s OK, it’s all official and above board – they are not playing truant. Today is a public holiday – Norus.
Back in the UK, we tend to think of the Spring Equinox, (March 21st), as the first day of Spring – and, apparently, this identification is shared with Poland. It’s not an official holiday there, but it is seems to be popular amongst children as, traditionally, its a day when children play truant from school.
It seems that in the States and Canada they have a similar tradition which they call “Senior Skip Day” (or “Beach day” in eastern Canada) – although the date varies among different schools.
It seems that “truancy” is fairly widespread here. Although school attendance is supposed to be compulsory, there are a lot of children who don’t go to school. Some of them simply can’t get enrolled … in order to do so, their parents have to be registered at a local address – a propiska. Many do not! Especially in the newly constructed suburbs – some of which are not official.
A lot of other children “work”, they have “jobs” in the bazaars as “barrow boys” or as a tachist, (collecting bottles), like Almaz or collecting discarded rubbish on the polygon (Bishkek’s rubbish dump), or simply as “street children“.
When I was working as a teacher back in the UK, there were always a few children who played truant … in one school, for example, there was a child who was nearly always present at the start of the week, on Mondays, was usually there the next day … but by Wednesday it was 50-50 if he would be present or not, he was not often at school on Thursday and rarely ever attend on Friday!
On the other hand, they often stood out simply because they were the only people of their age on the street during the day. They were often picked up by the police who asked why they weren’t in school. Of course, they could always make up an excuse, like they had a dentist’s appointment, but an experienced police officer would soon get used to the pattern and sometimes they would drive a student back to school.
Here it is not so simple … many schools operate on a shift system – with some classes attending school in the morning and others having lessons in the afternoon. This has the advantage that fewer buildings are needed … one building can cater for twice as many pupils than if there was just one “shift” but it also means that only half of the school population are in lessons at any one time … and so children roaming the streets during the daytime are not an unusual sight.
One day, when the kids weren’t at school , I asked why not. I understand that, sometimes, they have to miss classes in order to, for example, attend a hospital clinic or visit the Voenncommat to sort out questions their impending military service. When we started talking about whether they were playing “hookey” they asked me if I had never ever skipped classes and I had to own up … Once.
Just once?
Yes … just once.
It was in the final year of compulsory schooling after we had finished exams. Those who were leaving school and going to get jobs were allowed to leave after their final examinations, but those of us who were returning for the Sixth Form were expected to finish the last two weeks of school. A special programme of activities was arranged … preparatory classes for our A-Level studies, for example, or talks from specially invited external speakers.
Well, our teachers arranged for us to undertake a Geographical survey the other end of town … measuring stream flows and that sort of thing. After a couple of days of this, I told the teacher that the next day I would be in school and I told the teachers in school that I would be at the survey site. In short – I did a Ferris Bueller and took the day off.
To my horror, that was the day that the Head Teacher decided to come looking for me. Sure enough, everyone said that I was at the survey site – and fortunately he was satisfied with that answer … but someone who had also been on the survey knew that I wasn’t there and sought me out that evening to warn me.
I have to admit that I spent a very uncomfortable night … worrying why on earth he wanted to see me. Had I been discovered? Why was it so important, anyway?, after all, it was just a time filling exercise. What would he do?, Would he tell me that I couldn’t return to the Sixth Form?
The next morning I waited outside his office – not exactly quaking in my boots, but full of apprehension all the same.
He came out of his office and saw me waiting in the corridor and said : “Ah, Claytor. I was looking for you yesterday, where were you?” I gulped … and told a lie – “I was at the survey site, sir” - hoping against hope that he hadn’t already checked. It seems he hadn’t because he then told me that he was going to make me Deputy Head Boy in September which meant that, if I didn’t do anything to “blot my copybook” in the meantime, I would be made the school’s Head Boy the following year.
I didn’t know what to do with myself. Although I felt very happy at the news – and relieved – the irony of the situation was not lost on me. It’s been a lesson I have always tried to keep in mind ever since … when you are tempted to do something that isn’t quite right … just remember that you never know when you might be caught out …
As it happens, I was lucky in that my little lie was never discovered … I was never caught out and I managed to keep my copy book clean … I became Head Boy … but I always felt a little uncomfortable about it.
So, to all my readers in Kyrgyzstan Happy Norus! … and to those in Poland: Happy Truancy Day!
Bishkek