Across the street from our flat in Cambridge was a a huge park, outfitted with a seasonal paddling pool. When we arrived last September, hearty British children were splashing about in this greenish water from the Cam in various stages of undress, and having a blast. It looked like there was a thin film on the bottom of the pool. There was no lifeguard in sight, and I didn't even want to begin to estimate how many kids had "weed" in it. I was completely disgusted by this pool and preferred not to go near that end of the park. Of course Eliot and Olivia wanted to try it out, but I was not about to let them make a habit of it. It was unsanitary, unsafe and besides it was only 55 degrees out anyway.
As you can see from the photographic evidence, Olivia and Eliot did make it into the paddling pool eventually. By June it was refilled and ready for another season. By June I realized that sitting at the side of the pool, reading my book, was a much better option than explaining, for the umpteenth time, the reasons they couldn't splash around with everyone else. Cross cultural studies often remark that it takes around one year to begin to assimilate to the foreign culture. In my case it was only 9 months.
