Growing friends

As I drove Alex home from school yesterday he asked me if I thought Freya was 'growing friends' in Abuja. I said I thought she was, and that one of the wonderful things about moving to different places is the chance to meet new people and to make new friendships. He told me that he wanted to 'grow some new friends' too, but wasn't sure how to do it as the other children in his class didn't really talk to him. He said he had had an idea about making friends; his plan had been that at playtime he would jump on one of the toy bikes that needed two people to ride it. This sounded like a great strategy to me, but Alex said that although he'd tried, he was never quick enough to get to the bikes (I suspect partly because I have insisted that he puts his sun-cap on at playtime, which must waste valuable seconds) so he admitted his plan wasn't working and that he felt a bit lonely at his new school.

Taking one's children out of their stable home environments and away from established friendships is one of the most difficult decisions that ex-pat and diplomatic families face. Even at the tender age of four, Alex had a group of little pals from nursery that he was sad to leave. I suppose I'd assumed that, being so young, he would hardly notice the change and would find some new playmates fairly quickly in his new school. But, somewhat predictably, his Abuja classmates are louder and more physical than those at nursery in rural Suffolk - they love to sing and dance around in class, whilst Alex is more reserved about shaking his stuff and tends to sit and watch the others rather than join in himself. Rather sadly, the one little boy that Alex had become friendly with last term - they had bonded at tennis lessons - left at Easter to move to a new posting, a common occurrence in the transitory world we inhabit, which has left Alex a little adrift.

However, as luck would have it, we had a parents' meeting at Alex's school yesterday afternoon, which gave us a chance to talk to his class teacher about our concerns. She had also noticed that he hadn't yet made any good buddies and suggested that she pair Alex with a new child every day so that there was always someone for him to sit next to and talk to. That way he could get to know each of the children in the class in turn, before deciding who he wanted to be friends with.

When I picked Alex up from school this afternoon he proudly informed me that David had been his friend today and that tomorrow it would be Naisha. He had even played on a bike with David at breaktime. As we left the classroom, he asked me the same question he asks every afternoon: 'Why do I have to go to school every day Mummy?' When I gave my stock response ('That's just the way it works here'), he replied that he was glad he went every day as he liked school and he was looking forward to sitting next to a new friend each morning.

With all the background tension in Abuja right now, worries about an individual child's friendship groups can feel rather insignificant. But Alex was noticeably happier when I picked him up today and this felt like a bit step forward. I couldn't help but reflect for a moment on how wonderful it must be to be four, and for one's life to revolve around toy bikes and tennis lessons, and I held his hand very tightly as he skipped all the way back to the car.