Life's surprises

Update
Maybe I was too pessimistic about the cynics. My son is now back before I take him to the train in a few minutes. He is absolutely exhausted because the little nippers went to bed at 3am and were up at 6 am. The camp was a major camp for all the scouts of our small town. There were 150 people in all. Up from a previous record of 110. So maybe scoutism is being revived. People are seeing that capitalism isn't everything.



The interesting thing about one’s children is how they turn out really different from what you were at their age. Now I have never been a great supporter of scouting. The Baden Powell thing really stuck in my throat as a quintessential English activity. Imagine my dismay when my elder son, who is 25, expressed a strong desire to become a scout 15 years ago.

Er well yes, good ideals, healthy activity, why not. I always wanted my sons to discover their own way in life, hoping that by being a model (impure admittedly) of honesty, decency, discipline and fairness, the path that they would choose would be different from mine but one of which I could be proud.

So if the lad wants to be a scout, a scout he will be. Anyway it is a passing phase and he will go on to other things. So every couple of weeks he would be off to the scouts hall, playing games and preparing camps. Every two months it was off to a camp somewhere or another and I would drive him and his friends to their camping location, the car piled high with tents sleeping bags, cooking equipment.

The years passed by, a cub , then a scout, then a pioneer. There were trips as far as Morocco where he helped to clean irrigation channels, a month in Burgundy rebuilding a monastery, a summer camp in the grounds of Giscard’s chateau where VGE came and had a chat.

For three years they competed in the regional scouts motocross competition. My garden became their testing ground and pits, to the restrained annoyance of our neighbours. The first time they came last by a mile and won the future promise award. On the third occasion they won with so much ease it was embarrassing.

Time marches on and my son is a young adult. His friends are ending their scouting careers one after the other as education and girl friends impinge on week end activities. My son rushes home Friday evening, I collect him from the train station, only to disappear Saturday morning for his beloved scouting. Lo and behold leadership weekends are beckoning. Three full weekends in Normandy, Picardy, and the Paris region. Leadership qualities are learnt. Legislation, safety, communication, ideals. A much valued extra badge on that bright yellow shirt. My son can now lead his own little platoon of louveteaux.

After several weekends of fervid preparation, this weekend his platoon is holding their spring camp. I drove him to the meeting point where all the louvetaux congregated for the bus to transport them some twenty kilometres to the grounds of a large house where they are camping this night. I saw all the young parents with their beloved child smartly turned out in their scout kit. I discreetly watched from the sidelines as my son welcomed all his acolytes and chatted with the parents.

So yes I have changed my opinion on scouting. It has been an enriching experience for my son who has found enormous pleasure over the years. He is now voluntarily giving back to the next generation all the benefits he has received and gaining still more satisfaction as he is doing it. Am I so old fashioned to think that it is a real shame that in today’s world this type of activity is totally scorned upon? Roundly decried by all those who can only see it as an activity for sexual perverts.

No I have not changed my mind about all things English. French scouting is far superior to English.