skiing with grade 9: the delight and horror in 4 parts

the grade 9 class trip traditionally has been a ski trip to italy (no biggie...). which, granted, is an incredible opportunity, a huge privilege. totes magoats.  but, make no mistake - that's:
nonstop 
7 days and 6 nights
with 60 pubescent teenagers

the first (and only) time i chaperoned this trip was when my homeroom got to be in grade 9.

PART 1:

the trip was BEAUTIFUL. i had never down-hill-skied before. so i got to take lessons with the beginner students and actually got to be pretty decent (if i may say so myself).

in the mornings we'd take the bus out to the slopes, everyone would break into their ski groups, by ability level, spend the morning with the respective instructors, have lunch, do another two hours with the instructor and group, and then roam free in groups of at least three, skiing socially.

it was the last day of skiing - the last hour of the last day skiing. our bus back to berlin was the next morning at 10am. and as i'm making my way down the last slope for the day with my colleagues - we get a call from the students and see a helicopter landing not far from us...

two of our boys - experienced skiers, one from my homeroom - were going down a black diamond, competing. and, they collided and both lost consciousness. one, whose condition was deemed less severe, was taken down the mountain by snowmobile and to the nearest hospital. the other, whose helmet fell apart from impact, was helicoptered to a hospital with better facilities, a bit farther away. and there isn't enough room for even one of us to get into the helicopter with the boy.

the chaperones and i discuss how to proceed, and who should do what - i volunteer to head to the far-away hospital and be the one to stay behind the next day (everyone else had families, pets, responsibilities to get back to; for me at the time was just Netflix). this way i can make sure the boy isn't alone when he comes to, i can get in touch with and wait for his mom to arrive, and to be an 'adult' whom doctors can speak to as necessary with updates in the meantime.

PART 2:
i arrive at the ER. now, that's obvi a stressful experience for anyone under any circumstances. and i'm lucky and grateful that (spoiler alert) everything turned out fine with no (health) complications. however, filling out ER papers a) in a foreign country, in b) a non-native language, for c) a child, who d) is not your own is like anxiety to the nth degree... but went through the kid's wallet - found his ID and health insurance info i had on file from the school. done and done.

i spend the night on a cot in the boy's hospital room (obv, the stress and discomfort equals close to zero actual sleeping). by morning, great news - he seems to be fine, they're just doing some additional tests and scans to confirm no internal bleeding or organ/ brain damage. (The other boy, incidentally, was also fine
and already released the night before - was able to take the bus back to berlin with the rest of the kids in the morning). my principal books me a flight back to berlin for the afternoon, for just a few hours before the boy's mom is to arrive. i get the boy a teddy-bear, we hang out, we joke, he seems in good spirits, i assure him his mom will arrive shortly after i leave. bye. bye, see you in berlin.

PART 3:
i wait at the airport. the flight seems delayed. delayed some more. and then some more. until it's canceled altogether for the rest of the day. in fact, all incoming and outgoing flights are canceled for that town - so, not only i can't leave, the mom can't get into town either. principal: ok, no big deal - book two rooms in a hotel (one for me, one for the boy and his mother for when she arrives by train). i'll fly out the next day. it's annoying, but whatever - the folks at the airport are helping to book rooms for those who are stuck in town. it's a tiny airport, cause it's a tiny resort town, which is mostly a fancy hospital and a bunch of hotels. so, the rooms are booked for me. a cab is called for me to take me there. i check in, drop off my stuff, and get in another cab to go back to the hospital - make sure i'm there for when the boy is ready to be checked out.

as i said before - he's all good and EXTREMELY lucky. so we start leaving the hospital, and i realize that once we get in a cab, i have NO idea where to go. the hotel was booked for me - i have no phone number to look back on. the hotel room key (actual physical key) has a key chain that's just a wood block. no address. no name. zero reference point. all the convenience of someone else doing these things for me - and no record of my own. i can't show panic - this kid's been through hell. i can't tell him what the problem is - i'm the 'adult', i'm supposed to have made accommodating arrangements. but at this point, i'm tired, i'm frustrated, my hands are shaking, i'm defo freaking out and having a hard time keeping it together (on the inside, on the inside).

the only thing i can remember is that the check-in desk at the hotel was directly adjacent to the dining hall, which had these ugly lavender tablecloths... so i start google-image-ing
*town name* + hotel + purple tablecloth

PART 4:
you can imagine it takes more than a few trial-and-error phone calls in a non-native language to hotels in a resort town with "hi, i just checked in about an hour ago, just wanted to confirm the address... oh, no? how silly of me, my mistake!" before i get to the correct one. to top it off, my phone plan has a shitty WiFi plan for abroad usage, so i have to keep purchasing more data every few google-searches...

but we get there. i get the confused tired kid in a cab. let's get the ef out of this place, m'dude.

i ask the boy if he's hungry - he says no, just wants to wait for his mom, who should be arriving later in the night. so, he goes to his room. i sit down in the dining hall, with the stupid fucking memorable lavender tablecloths. down a bottle of red wine, putting salad in my face (with my hands) and ugly nervous-cry like a champ.