Three or four years ago, when number one son’s class started learning English at (his then) kindergarden, we overlooked – for the first few weeks – the fact that he was being taught English by a woman who had an accent thicker than Ion Iliescu.

Like Iliescu, her English was in fact excellent – it was purely the accent that was the problem. (Indeed, if you watch the video, you will see that those who deride Iliescu for not speaking English well are not being entirely fair: what he says is more or less correct, it is how he says it that is the problem).

Anyway, we didn’t worry too much about the teacher’s accent initially as we assumed – wrongly, as it turned out – that having been taught English since birth by yours truly he would be able to sort the wheat from the chaff, as it were.

Then came the day he arrived home and started singing about ‘tree blaint mas’.

It was a wake up call.

Next day we went to the kindergarden and politely requested he be excused English. He was, and his English accent survived intact.

Now at school (a Romanian state school, you may recall) he is lucky enough to have an American teach him English. (You can insert your own jokes about his teacher still having a highly dodgy accent). He grins and bears it: learning the parts of the body (this week’s class) is never going to tax a native speaker, but being guaranteed top marks every week is incentive enough to sit through until the end.

When Mrs. Bucharest Life (who is Romanian) first became pregnant, one of the first things we did was find out what the score is with bringing up children whose parents have different mother tongues.

The consensus was simple: each parent speaks in his/her own language to the child and lets nature take its course. All children – up to a certain age – apparently have an intrinsic ability to discern one language from another. If one language is spoken better than the other at first, don’t panic: it will all even out sooner rather than later.

And that is exactly what happened. Both kids spoke far better Romanian than English until they were three. Number two didn’t in fact speak a single word of English until she was three (though clearly understood, especially if the word ‘chocolate’ was muttered). Then, quite literally from one day to the next, she suddenly decided to start speaking English, and hasn’t stopped since.

Now at kindergarden, she too has begun to ‘learn’ English. Though her teacher is far better than Number One’s ever was, there still appear to be a few issues. On Friday for example she came home and told us that she had been learning all about the seasons.

‘And what season are we in now?’ we asked her.

‘The season when the leaves fall off the trees,’ came the reply.

‘Ottom.’

With number one son today celebrating the last day of his first semester at school, we present – for the benefit of nobody – our first impressions of the Romanian education system (or at least, our impressions of the school our son attends).

As our regular reader – a Mrs. Trellis of North Wales – will probably know, number one son began his formal education back in September at a reasonably bog-standard state school in Bucharest, located half-way between Budapesta and Piata Unirii. (Being in publishing, we don’t have anything like the money we need to send him to a public school, so we had no choice but to try our luck in the state system).

Now, when we say he attends a ‘reasonably bog-standard state school,’ we should add that the school is rated as the second best in Bucharest, and getting a place is not easy if you do not live in the catchment area. Teachers are generally excellent, the head is outstanding, the facilities are OK (and about to be upgraded), and the school has a new gymnasium. Class sizes are manageable: in number one son’s class there are 24 kids.

The first shock for a parent used to school in the western world is the time that school starts in Romania: 08:00. Not being the earliest of birds, that came as a real shock to our system. The school day then ends at a similarly early 11:30. This is compensated for, however, by a ton of homework. At the age of seven we had precisely zero homework, if memory serves. Number one son’s homework keeps him busy much of the afternoon.

Yes, there is much rote learning. Yes, there is far too much emphasis placed on handwriting (ever noticed how all Romanians can write beautifully?) Yes, we could do without the obligatory religious classes, but they are limited to half-an hour a week, and seem to be far more about behaving well, about our place in the world, and about the environment than anything overtly biblical.

Yes, we could do without being asked for money to buy something or other at every teacher-parent meeting (which are held weekly, by the way), and yes, we could do without the kids at the high school next door smoking on their way to and from school.

By and large though, we are happy with the school, and with his progress.

For the education itself is terrific. In maths (a subject Bucharest Life never did really excel in) he is doing what we believe to be some fairly difficult stuff. Not because he or his class are particularly gifted, but simply because such things are par for the course on the Romanian curriculum, and pupils are meant to get on and learn it.

And so, all in all, we still think we made a good decision to send him to this school, and that – here comes the controversial bit of this post – he is better off here than he would be at a bog standard comprehensive in England.

Our reasons for thinking so are related to the fact that in Romania, it is still the brightest in the class who appear to be the bellwethers. That is no longer the case elsewhere. We also have friends with children at the same school who have experienced schools in England. In their experience the level of difficulty appears to be far higher here.

A few years ago, we defended the Romanian education system – the primary part at least: the Romanian secondary and university education systems we are less keen on – in print. We had at that stage yet to test it in the flesh, as it were.

It’s therefore nice that our own experience of it has turned out be as good as we expected. And to any expat who may be worried about sending their children to a Romanian state school, you shouldn’t be. Just make sure you find the right one.