Oh, boy!



Being twelve. Such good memories.



Like every year, I spent this summer in Corsica, in the family house. I went with my dad, my sister and our dog every day to the river to swim/jump/splash/snorkel in the water. I used to fish trouts with my hand under the boulders (half of the holes were occupied by snakes). I also used to snorkel-hunt fishes with a harpoon (don't tell that to the police).



The time I was out of the water, I was just carrying a pocket knife with me, the handiest tool for children in the wild. I carved boats from pieces of floated pine bark, equipping them with tiny sails. I spent hours looking at insects, and looking FOR insects... Tarantulas (the real one - Lycosa narbonensis), rhinoceros beetles, wasps, black widows (right under the stair bar). I also caught lizards with a small lasso made out of a long grass.



With the other kids, we used to get the pigs (that live free most of the time in Corsica) wild throwing them small pebbles or by launching dogs after them, and run in front of them in a small Pamplona Run in the narrow streets of my town...



My father and I walked together the many paths and tracks in the surrounding mountains, drinking water from the sources, sleeping in sheperds houses. He taught me all he knew about where his grand-father was a sheperd.



I can recall the splendid night-sky, when we walked back home after having spent an evening at the terrace of the bar of a cousin (well, my parents were sipping something fresh, I was playing with my sister and other childrens). The wilky-way was splendid from the dim lighted roads of the Niolu Valley.



We went there by ferry-boat. Taking this gigantic steel monsters always thrilled me. It still does, and I can't smell gear-grease without being shaken. We saw whales and dolphins on the way, and this famous summer of my 12th birthday, I saw a shark in the harbour of Bastia. Brrr.



I was every day in the wild. I enjoyed such a good time there! I try not to live with regrets, but I do regret this time, when problems and worries of adulthood meant nothing for me (and the blessed time when my hormones were inexistant ;) ).



I've had a wonderful youth. I'll never forget my luck.



Syd (now nostalgic)



Syd_Brown, Jul 4, 2008 @ 17:22

Wow Greg now THAT's a childhood to remember! thanks for sharing it:)!
MarmarK, Jul 5, 2008 @ 19:44

Nice topic Mary, and nice youth Greg (seriously - I loved reading your post).

Yea, it's nice to think of those days, and to be able to give kids that we love the pleasure of having such a childhood...I see my 8 year old boy, Leo, and what Mary says is so true: he rides his bike all day, and his biggest worry right now is if he'll go to the pool tomorrow in the morning, or will he have to wait all the way till the afternoon. That's the way it should be.

On a less happy note, I think most of the kids in the world don't have the care-free childhoods that most of us on glocals had. If you look at developing countries - that make up most of the world's popuation - kids go to work very early, not to mention war torn countries where kids are used as soldiers...

As Greg said - we're lucky indeed.

By the way, I found the below picture of Greg as a young boy. As you can see, already back then he was into adventure!

Nir Ofek, Jul 6, 2008 @ 04:05

A last note: Greg mentions in his post that he used to throw stones at the Corsica Pigs, like the one in this picture:

Greg - how could you throw stones at such a cute animal?
An animal like that clearly belongs on the my BBQ, and not running free in Corsica where happy kids can throw stones at it!
Nir Ofek, Jul 6, 2008 @ 04:10

I can understand how you can admire and worry about your 12 year old.  You are right this is an age that you will not know everything he is doing.  The town is a good one and there are lots of things to explore, the world opens up in many new ways.  My neighborhood sucked when I was kid.  When I was 12 there were a lot of single moms working all day while we, 12 year olds, just barely old enough not have to pay someone to watch all day, ran the world. Well as much as the 13 year olds would allow us anyway. There was chaos, and mayhem and all started by curious eyes who just last year were watched more closely.  Freedom while a liberating feeling becomes a great responsibility and this is when you start to learn how important it is to actually be responsible for your actions. Oddly enough it is taught in a way that while parents may not actually approve of comes through loud and clear.  Mistakes, the master teacher, we find her with new eyes. Learning to respect her and our path and life, sometimes forgetting to respect that of those older than us, moms and dads and those who later we learn maybe actaully did know something about what we were going through regardless of how much we hid what we were actually doing.  I do believe we go through the same thing no matter what we are doing, or where we are.  This is the last steps of children and first steps of something new, a teenager.  You test the waters but not with an undaring toe, you jump in, like you should, both feet and past your head.  I am not sure how much to tell you about my actual 12th year, you are a mother and you probably would not understand. It would sound harsh and strange and not really give you much comfort facing this summer. So i will keep it to myself and instead offer you and ear if and when you need to vent or confide or scream your frustrations. Peace mommy, Tony

TonyT, Jul 6, 2008 @ 11:59

Thanks for sharing your memories. I’m very glad to read them J

 

During the summer when I was 12, I was still living in Lima (Peru). And that period was very important for me because my life changed by taking a new way.

 

Peru’s summer begins on December and Father Christmas (yes, yes!) gave me the most beautiful present of my childhood: my first computer!

 

At that time (1984-1985), to have a computer at home still seemed a little bit strange. It was in fact the beginning of the expansion of microcomputer systems.

 

So, during that summer, I began to learn programming (BASIC language),  and I took my first computer lessons during two months. It was a very great period, and I discovered a new world plenty of surprises and challenges.

 

 

From that moment I continued to program and finally it became one of the most important activities of my career…

 

new_concept, Jul 6, 2008 @ 17:06

Greg, you movie star!



Tinkie, how long did the crab live for? my mom wouldn't have allowed it. but she did allow me to have stick insects - did you know that 'baby' stick insects are smaller than the terrarium holes? they escaped all over my room!



my 12th summer was spent at a summerschool for Danish expat kids. i was very pissed off with my parents for sending me there, remembering my previous disastrous stint at camp. but it turned out to be the first of many summers spent there and i still keep in touch with some of the people i met there! great friendships were born that summer, as i for the first time of my life didn't feel like a complete idiot, being born in a country, living elsewhere and basically having very little in common with my schoolmates...



after that, i believe we spent another month in Denmark, in a summerhouse north of Copenhagen. beach every day, ice creams, playing in the garden, going into town and shopping. a great summer, no doubt!



and yes, would like to be 12 again. and yes, i've always known i was/am incredibly lucky and tell myself that every morning when i wake up.
Minda, Jul 6, 2008 @ 17:30

We used to go to Mobile every summer to visit all the relatives. We spent a lot of time camping out on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico or the Bay of Mobile,  shrimping, crabbing and enjoying some wild thunderstorms when they came along. Sometimes those thunderstorms were hurricanes and that was very exciting (which shows how much you worry about things when you're a kid!).

Wherever we went, if we were anywhere near water, my dad would stop the car and let us go swimming. It seemed natural to him as a way of cooling off bodies and tempers of some 8 people traveling together for hours.

As well, he agreed to stop for every turtle on the road and bring it home along with the tadpoles and baby crabs. Like Tinkie said, why he did that, I'm not sure!

He also came home from work every night and played any sport we wanted until supper and afterwards. We would play until it got to dark to see the ball and then quit and go in to say the rosary, a moment we put off as LONG as possible. ;)
MarmarK, Jul 6, 2008 @ 17:53

ahh... 12... For me I think life started at 12, perhaps because 12 was one of my best times of my earlier childhood memories. 6th grade, school work was easy, and we were the senior members of elementary shcool:cool: and I started to develop the biggest crush for "Jimmy". I became best friend with a French girl who was new to our school, and she was really energetic, outgoing and carefree, so she really got me out of my shell. 

It was the summer of 1983. OMG:w00t: that's exactly 25 yrs ago on this July 4th weekend!! Since the age of 12 I spent ever summer at my best friend's grandparents' bungalow (called Makowsky's) in the beautiful Catskill Mountains (NY).  Just imagine the move Dirty Dancing, but the preteen version.

It was the best of times.  We hardly had any adult supervision during the day. Her mother was not there during the weekday, so her grandmother made us breakfast and dinner, while we spent most of the day by the community pool, listening to music (Police, Michael Jackson,Flashdance,Men@Work.. http://www.musicoutfitters.com/topsongs/1983.htm) playing cards (Speed) or RumiCube, come back to the bungalow for lunch or eat at the luncheonette, where cute boys could be spotted.  Sometimes we'd play (or pretend to play) pool while listening to music on a real juke box, or hang out with girls and boys from the city (Bronx, Brooklyn) visiting their grandparents for the summer. Even after dinner we'd go back out to hang out at the luncheonette, or in someone else's bungalow til it was time to go home for milk and desserts (always).  This was a real treat for me!:P

On weekends my friend's mother and the rest of the Harris family (aunts, uncles and cousins) would come up from the city and we'd have a big bbq. Fresh sweet corn on the cob from the local farmer was the best.  I'd never eaten raw corn before.  Wednesdays would be Bingo night down at the lunchenette, Fridays would be an outdoor movie night, and every Saturday was entertainment night by some local band or singer. Most of the grandparents went and watched the show, while the kids got bored after the first 10 minutes and ended up next door in the luncheonette. My friend and I would dress up nicely in case we bumped into that cute boy Lee, or Sascha.

We also always visted the Catskill Game Farm zoo where we fed the goats milk or ride on animals, or head out to the Mawhonk mountains where you have a breathtaking view of the Adirondack Mtns. One year I went English saddle horseback riding along the trails of Mowhan, and back at stable I ended up falling off the horse because I my short legs couldn't get around the horse and got tangled up. I landed flat on my butt - ouch :pinch:

Thanks to my dear friend and her loving family, I had the most memorable summers growing up starting from the age of 12. I still refer to her family members as Grandma B & Grandpa Harold, Uncle Paul & Norma. I even babysat her younger cousins yrs later when I was in Highschool.  And the irony of it is.. they're now all grown up, married and with kids:blink: ok.. now i'm getting depressed.:crying:

I hope one day, my kids will be able to experience something similar in a carefree envrionment.
YouMeCo, Jul 6, 2008 @ 18:02

Memories... sweet memories!

Reminds me of a poem by Ryokan... the one on "First Days of Spring"

The sky is bright blue, the sun huge and warm.
Everything's turning green.
Carrying my monk's bowl,
I walk to the village to beg for my daily meal.
The children spot me at the temple gate and happily crowd around,
dragging to my arms till I stop.
I put my bowl on a white rock,
hang my bag on a branch.
First we braid grasses and play tug-of-war,
then we take turns singing and keeping a kick-ball in the air:
I kick the ball and they sing,
they kick and I sing.
Time is forgotten, the hours fly.
People passing by point at me and laugh:
"Why are you acting like such a fool?"
I nod my head and don't answer.
I could say something, but why?
Do you want to know what's in my heart?
From the beginning of time: just this! just this!

Indeed "ah, to be twelve years old"... curiosity without doubt, friendship without motive, emotions without expectation.
colorado, Jul 7, 2008 @ 23:33

For those wondering... who is this Ryokan? Perhaps, I must pay my tributes here, properly. Ryokan was an inspiring Japanese poet, who chose the life of a buddhist monk at a young age. He lived a wanderer's life, living in a hut, feeding himself by wandering in nearby villages and begging for food. Ryokan was unusual in his gentleness.

A tale goes thus - one day when Ryokan returned to his hut he discovered a thief who had broken in. The thief was in the process of stealing the impoverished monk's few possessions. In the thief's haste to leave, he left behind a cushion. Ryokan grabbed the cushion and ran after the thief to give it to him.

After this incident, Ryokan wrote this gem of a poem,

The thief left it behind:
the moon
at my window.

Ultimately, Ryokan did fall in love, with Teishin. Even monks can't escape from certain women! :-) Ryokan and Teishin love poems are beautiful.
colorado, Jul 7, 2008 @ 23:37

Colorado that was really beautiful! Thank you for sharing it. Acadian as well. Have you read McClosky's "One Morning in Maine"? That story inspired me as a little child and I own it now. I've always wanted to visit Maine!

You made a point that I wish to discuss a bit more: It is sad to think that those in developing countries don't get the chances and the opportunities that we had. They grow up too fast. Even those kids in industrialized countries grow up too fast. I sometimes wonder if a child in a developing country, growing up close to its family, sharing hardships and sometimes being submitted to extreme conditions is not living a happier childhood than the millions of over-fed children in day-care centers who will never know their families more than as distant house-mates. I don't wish to angelicize poverty and do not condone childhood labour or exploitation of any sort. I simply mean that in certain times and places, children had and have a role to play in a family. I also mean that in "developed" countries, there seems to be a greater concern for keeping children occupied and provided for, almost like satisfied customers, whereas in other areas of the world, something is actually expected of them.

I actually like the idea of children growing up - it's what we all continually do -  to become loving adults by being shown love as children.
MarmarK, Jul 8, 2008 @ 00:47

The thief was in the process of stealing the impoverished monk's few possessions. In the thief's haste to leave, he left behind a cushion. Ryokan grabbed the cushion and ran after the thief to give it to him.

By the way, Colorado, was that thief named Jean Valjean by any chance?

;)
MarmarK, Jul 8, 2008 @ 01:03

Happiness in childhood I don't believe ever relates to either a material aspect ( or hardships but in a sense of belonging to either a family group or extended family. We can compare our own childhoods and I'm sure we provide as much material comforts as we can for our children, as did our parents for us but they are just preceived in a different way, and as did their parents for them. I don't think can compare or even should, our lives with others in different circumstances, we are constantly bombarded with images of how we should act and interact with our children and how competitive their futures will be , so we enter an intellectual arms races with other parents trying to provide what is thought to be the best for them when in fact they just want time with parents and siblings to play. You can take your kids half way around the world and they just remember the time you spent together playing a card game or splashing in a pool.



I consider myself lucky that I still spend holidays with my parents now the roles are reversed and I'm the one driving them to new places and providing them with new experiences
britabroad, Jul 8, 2008 @ 02:10

Les Miserables in the northern mountains of Japan....! :-) Remarkably, Ryokan life of early 19th century in Kugami Japan paralleled Victor Hugo. Ryokan was born 40+ years before Hugo. His poems are profound. As are Hugo's plays.

On the subject of a child's life in developing world...

I agree that there is abuse in some parts of the world. It is unacceptable. Yet, let us avoid stereotyping too much. Tragedy is part of our history and present. Whether in the basement of Austria, or some shops in developing countries, tragedy and disgusting things happen. But the abnormal does not define the norm. Tragedies should move us to action. Tragedies should not cripple us, or feed psychological stereotypes.

I suggest this because I believe we do not need too much to be happy. Happiness has a lot to do with our inner world. For a child, that inner world is usually pure, honest and simple. It is easy to experience joy and happiness with that purity and innocence. Anywhere in the world therefore, developing world or developed world, childhood tends to be happy. I write all that from experience. I grew up in so-called third world. My two sisters and I did not have Disneyland, toys or happy meal. At times, we had very little at all. We did have each other, our conversations, our playfulness, our hopes... and that is all that mattered. We were happy. Given a choice, I would still want to be born and raised the way I was.

Reflecting back, I feel the best we can do for children is to let them develop in their unique way, let them discover their passions, and discover the wonder life is.
colorado, Jul 8, 2008 @ 02:16

Here, here! Well said, good fellow!
MarmarK, Jul 8, 2008 @ 02:22

I hope more people will share their memories! Please, let's go! :w00t:
new_concept, Jul 10, 2008 @ 15:03

He he, what an excellent thread!



Thanks to all for sharing, and special thanks to Nir for the cute pig picture (not me being young - the other one)!



I did not throw big stones at pigs, but tiny pebbles, just to bother them. Don't worry. And yes, pigs belong to my heart AND my barbecue!



Enjoy the summer!



Syd (in vacation)
Syd_Brown, Jul 10, 2008 @ 18:40

12 years old... the year of all dangers, when I left childhood to enter teenage, at the same time belonging to both worlds and none! Quite a challenge! I felt like a big guy, and my parents still saw me as a child (rightly so, I can accept it now ;))



Not interested in the opposite sex? Well... not yet in a sexual way but I do remember that the eyes I laid on these strange aliens that girls were at that time started to change surreptitiously. And one of them even appeared to be quite attractive...



12 was the beginning of my intellectual independence, when I discovered that adults were not always right (I mean for fundamental questions), that I could have my own opinion and disagree with my parents, sometimes quite strongly. It was a time of mixed feelings: Future was as exciting as frightening, life both easy and complicated, family was a shelter and a joy as well as a cage (I have a great family but that's how I felt at that time). My father was a hero, but he started to show signs of humanity, and my mom was still the sweetest ever, but gee, if only she could get off my back and let me do my real important things...



These were happy days, but somewhat tumultuous, and I loved it! Not sure I would go back then though, except for the extra time that would give me. I greatly enjoy the journey here below and I want to make it as long as possible!
Free, Jul 10, 2008 @ 22:41

That's the good attitude, to look back with nostalgia but not too much. To be happy with the present and to look forward to the future. Free, you've got it down to an art. But I really like what you wrote, because it is interesting to know that for some (like me) 12 years old was still a kid, for others, a painful time of changes and for perhaps for many, a time of back and forth between childhood and teenagerhood. Maybe being 12 was like dusk or dawn, an in-between time, which is why it is nice to remember. :)

Have a good day, all! 
MarmarK, Jul 11, 2008 @ 11:31

Being twelve seems a lifetime ago , and for most of the people on this site 35 years is a lifetime, but I think that the freedom of that age will return when I get to 65 (Ah to be Sixty Five years old).. No more work , days spent not looking at the clock , no mortgage to pay (hopefully) , no children to look after (hopefully left home).. And if I'm still fit enough, explore the world in the same way I explored the neighbourhood at age 12.. But I'm not wishing my life away I like where I am now.

Every age has it benefits, ask any 12 year old and they'll probably wish they were older to be able to do the things they see older kids do. I like my age now , it's probably the last year my daughter (almost 17) will agree with me knowing more than she does, I have the luxury of choice with things I'd like to do and be able to do.

Do you like you age now and why (or why not!)
britabroad, Jul 11, 2008 @ 12:23

Thanks again for sharing your memories!

This morning I found a news,  on a Spanish newspaper,  about a 12-year-old Roma artist. Her name is Rebecca and she has some problems in spite of her winning the UNICEF 2008 Prize for “Art and Interculture”.

According to the spanish newspaper "El Pais", she has written an open letter addressed to European people in which she tell us about her dream which is to go to school and to see her parents working. 

 

This is an article on English about this artist: 

http://www.everyonegroup.com/EveryOne/MainPage/Entries/2008/5/24_Dear_Europe._By_Rebecca_Covaciu.html

 

For those who understand Spanish, the article from "El Pais":

http://www.elpais.com/articulo/internacional/Querida/Europa/elpepuint/20080713elpepiint_1/Tes

 

 
new_concept, Jul 13, 2008 @ 18:39