Winging it on the slopes

Kart-ski

I learnt a wonderful fact last week. Being an adult isn't always about being wise, it's not about knowing the answer. It's about winging it.

To put this revelation into context, last week I had the pleasure of joining some of the kids in my school on a trip to explore the wonders of skiing for disabled people, also known as handi-ski. Having worked in a school for children with physical disabilities for some months now, I thought I had a handle on the logistics required for day-trips and excursions. A trip to KFC, which proved more complicated than just eating chicken, showed me that you really have to think of everything in advance. Quite the logistics required for a trip like this, however, I was not expecting. For example, the relatively simple task of driving to your nearest ski resort is immediately doubled from a normal four hours to get to the Alps, to an epic eight hour trek to find Serre-Chevalier, the handi-ski hot-spot situated firmly in the south-west of France. Fair enough, you think, it'll be a long day, but eight hours is do-able. Now add another layer of complexity, seven children very different disabilities. With this, you have to think about how long they can sit still for on a bus without getting uncomfortable thus the requirement of breaks, each one taking no less than an hour. Three breaks and a little maths later, the journey has jumped to eleven hours. This is but a taster of the organisation required for such a trip.

Now imagine, four apartments, each built for four people. Four people without disabilities that is. Although 'adapted', these apartments had no idea what hit them when seven delightful twelve year olds blasted through their doors, accompanied by seven lagging adults and two bus loads of equipment. At peak times (morning showers and meal-times) there were some serious circulation issues...said meal-times were an optimist's dream and a realist's logistical nightmare. It is some feat to perfectly time 14 three course meals [always three courses in France, however complicated it may make things], whilst installing seven children with wheelchairs and 7 other rumbling stomachs, into a room built for four. You get the picture.

Dual ski

Underneath this heavy pile of logistics, it seems easy to lose the point of our trip: skiing. Handi-ski is, in no fewer words, bloody brilliant. It comes in different forms, depending on level of independence. For the less autonomous, there are the luge-like 'dual-ski and 'tandem ski' which basically means sharing a pair of skis with the instructor. They look like the best roller-coasters of your life, whizzing downhill at the speed of the monitor, without the fear of falling over. For those who have the desire and ability to take control, there is kart-ski which enables almost complete independence, a bit like skiing sitting down. Of the group I went with, three tried kart-ski and four took on the luges. At the end of the week, one girl got her first 'flocon' (snowflake), which is the first-level ski certificate with école du ski Français. Her piercing scream of excitement when surprised with it was, alone, enough to make all our hard work worth it.

         Tandem-ski: please ignore the music and watch how it works to get on and off the lifts...amazing

So, back to my starting sentence. It may seem that we had it all under wraps, but the truth is that such a feat would have been near-impossible. The official organisers of the trip had put a back-breaking amount of time and effort into getting everything right and raising the funds. Even so, the fact that after the aforementioned 11 hour journey, I found myself single-handily cooking a three course meal for the kids is enough to explain that not everything ran smoothly. Poor kids. Saying that, they ate hungrily and one of the more polite kids even said I could cook it every night of the week and she would be happy. God love pre-packaged soup...

I feel far too young to have already been one of the 'teachers' on a school ski-trip. It seems only yesterday that I myself was one of those kids, waiting eagerly for my tomato soup, ravioli and chocolate pudding to be served so that I could get on the slopes [!]. I would have had no idea back then that it was being cooked by a just-out-of-university student with limited culinary skills. I think I got away with it. But I learnt a lot in a week; trying out the knackering life of a 24 hour carer and the logisitical complexities of disability 'on-the-go'. Most importantly, I learnt the unspoken talent required of adults from time to time, when you give kids an answer, or cook, with certainty, even if you are no way near certain...also known by another term: winging it.

More photos to follow...