In Lieu of 10,000 Words

The absolute best chocolate bar on earth.

Another morning, another view.

Peculiar berries that the birds apparently eat in winter. Soft like a mushroom, red like a rose.

The sun fighting against the fog and the mountains.

And there it is.

Fondue for one, breaking all the rules. No caquelon, no fourchettes and rosé wine. What a disgrace!

Here comes the sun.

Nothing but Alps as far as the eye can see.

Alpine sunrise over the lake.

Beautiful walk home through the little forest.

Thanks

It's odd to think that Thanksgiving is happening all over the United States and yet here I am in Switzerland on a nothing Thursday doing nothing in particular. I should go to bed, but somehow I can't quite get tired knowing the holiday, nine hours behind me, is in full swing. My colleague, also American, and definitely the best friend I have in Switzerland and one of the best friends I have had of all time, bought me a Thanksgiving present. It's this really fantastic smelling mild liquid handsoap. I am sure thankful for her. She is a constant link to home, knows about things non-Americans don't know about and just gets it in a way that only someway from your same home can. She is from Seattle, born in Portland, so she's not only American but a Northwesterner, too. If she weren't here, Switzerland wouldn't be nearly so great. I know that long after this experience is over, she and I will still be friends because even though we haven't been friends long, she's one of those special ones that clicks straight away and you know it fits. It may seem silly, but I'm also thankful for Switzerland. I'm enjoying life here, it feels right and it makes me more thankful for home than any Thanksgiving ever has. Here's to the expat life!

The Green God (Part Deux)

Nothing like mentioning Starbucks to get lots of feedback on the blog. It's funny, too, because while I was writing the post, I was going to write "Now, I normally never go to Starbucks, but I have never been so happy to see a Starbucks in my life," but instead I wrote, "I have never in my life felt such joy at seeing a Starbucks" because upon reflecting a bit, I realized it's not true that I never go to Starbucks. I guess you could say I rarely go to Starbucks.

The Green God is definitely not my first choice in coffee. If I'm in Spokane, I'd rather go to Bittersweet, Rockwood Bakery or Thomas Hammer, and yet I'd pick Starbucks over the Rocket anyday. Sorry Rocket fans. In Portland I'd rather drink Stumptown Coffee. When in Seattle, my first choice would be Café Fiore, then Lighthouse, then Diva, and then just about any of the millions of incredible coffee roasters in Seattle. But sometimes in Seattle those places are really far away, so a quick pop into one of the millions of Starbucks is a natural thing to do. Especially one that has those yummy breakfast sandwiches. Mmmm.

In the Northwest, there is a different attitude and relationship toward coffee than in the rest of the United States. Last Spring I was in New York and Pennsylvania for my brother's graduation and didn't have a decent cup of a coffee for a full 6 days. On day 4, I saw Starbucks in Manhattan and you better believe I was happy then. The only problem there was that they seemed to have altered the Starbucks Americano to suit the taste of East Coasters. It tasted like watered down coffee to me and my sister Amy, a fellow coffee connoisseur. But, hey, it was better than diner coffee which I'm convinced was Sanka or some equally disgraceful powdered disaster.

I'm not saying that Starbucks is the only good coffee outside of the Northwest. The basic truth is, that when you live in a place long enough, you know the good coffee and where to go and you don't really need Starbucks anymore. But here in Switzerland, the whole notion of Starbucks is so comforting, so like home and so familiar, I can't help but love it. I am a Northwesterner afterall. I like my 16 ounces of coffee in a paper cup, and I like walking around with it even more. The closest thing I can get to that in Neuchâtel is nasty Migros "à l'emporter" coffee in a whimpy 12 ounce cup that's only half full, too hot and they're really stingy with the cream and sugar. So, while at home in the States I am more or less neutral on the topic Starbucks, here in Switzerland I am devotedly PRO-Starbucks.

The Green God

It hailed to us like a shining, familiar green beacon of hope after being kicked out of not one, but two local establishments for wanting simply to enjoy a warm drink in lieu of a full meal.

My impressions of Switzerland are becoming increasingly negative despite the fact that I'm feeling more and more at home here. On a trip to Bern yesterday, my friend and I received what I have come to expect as a Swiss reception in any sort of customer service situation. We were yelled at in a language we didn't understand (Swiss German in this case) and then expected to be content anyway by the waitstaff. This no longer surprises me, but it still makes me angry and when the offender speaks French, I tell them off effortlessly - somehow I have no trouble finding the words when I'm angry. When they don't speak French or English, I tell them off in gests, which is what language is all about anyway. By the time we were yelled at a second time yesterday, we had been searching the streets of Bern for a cute cafe or tea house that wasn't either overcrowded, overly smokey or staffed by yellers for over an hour. My sprits really began to drop and I was ready to go get on the next train back to Neuchâtel.

Then Carolyn saw it. The Starbucks sign. I have never in my life felt such joy at seeing a Starbucks. I stumbled around that corner to find a little piece of home in a mean, foreign city. It was all familiar, the decor, the refrigerated case full of muffins and donuts, the overstuffed chairs, round dark wood tables and most of all the protocol. I know what to do in Starbucks, there's no way in hell anyone's yelling at me there. The curvy Starbucks signs had favorite seasonal drinks like Peppermint Mocha accompanied by ridiculous Swiss prices, such as 7.80 chf for a tall Latte! Once we got through the long line, the cheerful barista in his green Starbucks apron greeted us in the most cheerful, not at all resembling a yell, Swiss German and then spoke English when he realized we were not Swiss. YAY! I paid 4.80 chf for a Grande Coffee, sat in a window seat sipping it and kept the insulating sleeve as a souvenir. It was the most enjoyable Starbucks experience I could have asked for. In fact, it completely redeemed my opinion of Bern.

But it's not Bern that I like; it's knowing that for 30 chf and an afternoon I can spend an hour and half on a train and take a mini trip home.

Settling

Today was an incredible day. It may have been the contrast to yesterday which I might describe as the worst day ever, but whatever the reason, I had a good day today. School has been stressing me out as working as a Montessori is always a matter of being one step ahead, calm and "looking for the child who is not there" as Montessori herself put it. When the kids are bouncing off the walls, screaming and destroying the materials, it's really hard to remember this. I'm trying to make it a kind of mantra. Keeping her books close to me and reading them often is a source of great inspiration and reassurance. Almost everytime I open one of her books it's as if she's writing to me personally, describing exactly what I should do to change the direction of something in my classroom or deal with a difficult situation with the children. Today I decided to be the change I want to see at school and it's working already. Ghandi and Montessori would have gotten along well.

This evening I made several major purchases. I passed the point a long time ago when I could pack up everything of mine and leave on a plane the way I came. Crossing over into the territory of really settling in here was something I've resisted. I didn't even move my suitcases down into my storage space after arriving for several weeks, and that was after finally unpacking them completely. Now, I have a brand new, shiny, snazzy Philips hairdryer and top of the line Sonicare Elite toothbrush, both with Swiss plugs. I'm settling in on a deeper level, mentally and physically. The decision to start changing my behavior as the teacher to effect change at school gives me a sense of ownership that I've been lacking and my feelings toward Neuchâtel are more and more feelings of comfort, a place I can call home. This is a good shift because all I've been able to think about lately is my trip home for Christmas. The States will always be home and I will no doubt settle down in Spokane one day. But in the meantime, it's important to be connected to where I am living, enjoy it fully and be present in each day. I am glad to be putting the effort into doing that. Of course I'm still counting, though. Five weeks until I go home for Christmas. Five weeks of living in and making the most of Switzerland.

Global Gimcrackery

So, it's not just here on the European continent. Christmas is getting an early start everywhere. A German friend who lives in the US just chimed in that Christmas displays have taken over the stores and display windows. It appears that the movement is pioneered by none other than Macy's (see picture) who decided to bypass Halloween this year and get straight on to Christmas. This suprises me, as according to Wikipedia, Halloween is the 6th most profitable holiday for retailers in the US. I made a quick trip to nordstrom.com to see if they had started up with all the nonsense yet. What did I find? A greeting that nordstrom.com is under construction. What could this mean? Possibly that nordstrom.com is being made over in Christmasy colors and lights? It would disappoint me to see this happen as Nordstrom has always made a magical transformation the day after Thanksgiving to ring in the Christmas Season. I am not a wild fan of the commercial Christmas trumpery and the frenzy of the season can get a bit excessive, but I have always enjoyed Nordstrom's decorations. They are always tasteful, stylish and very pop. The Santa at Nordstrom always has a real beard and convincing spectacles. I hope they're not breaking their tradition and getting out the Christmas stuff early.

While we're on the topic of holidays in America and abroad, I'd like to take this time to clear the record. Everyone here in Switzerland believes Halloween to be an American holiday. It is not. It is an ancient Celtic holiday that has been celebrated for thousands of years in Ireland and Scotland. Halloween has become part of the American melting pot of culture due to Irish immigrants in the 19th century -- learn this and more about Halloween here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halloween. The talk page is also quite interesting.

I myself can't wait to get home and do some shopping in the States over Christmas break. I have been scrimping and saving in hopes of having a bit pot of cash to spend while I'm home. And I intend to spend, in full American style, like a drunken sailor, comsuming to my little heart's content.

Sick

Today was a sick day for me. I slept. Pretty much all day long. That's good because I was up last night with a fever. Pretty much all night long. Drrh. The day was spent drinking effervescent vitamins and wasting time on MySpace between naps. Whoever invented Paracetamol deserves a thank you. Sick days are a drag. The whole day goes by and nothing is accomplished. Well, except that I don't think I'll still be sick tomorrow. Nevermind, that is something accomplished. And I did manage to do one load of laundry. I would add a picture to this post, but I look horrible. I should go wash my sheets and pajamas and take a shower to avoid reinfecting myself. There's nothing better than climbing into clean, yummy smelling, just washed in Persil sheets all clean and scrubbed with nails clipped and hair combed. Mmm, that sounds so nice, I think it's about time to get ready for bed. Afterall, I'm pretty tired.

'Tis the Season to Spend

Following a doubt filled holiday during which I asked myself repeatedly why I thought it was such a good idea to move to a country I'd never been to and work at a school I'd never seen, I am back to school and back to loving my life in Switzerland. Oddly enough, living abroad does offer the strange fringe benefit of appreciating and loving home like never before. Most recently, the thing I value the most about the wonderful US of A is the strategic placement of Thanksgiving between Halloween and Christmas. This patriotic and historically sentimental national holiday wards off the hell that is the Christmas Season from rearing its nasty head in every storefront and TV commercial before that most significant biggest shopping day of the year otherwise known as the fourth Friday in November. I thought an entire month of that heinous frippery was quite enough to drive any sane person into a straight jacket. Well, try two months, my friend. Halloween is virtually nonexistent in most of continental Europe, and of course, they do not celebrate Thanksgiving. The result: Christmas displays, commercials, ornaments, chocolates (oh yes, plenty of those) and songs start infiltrating everyone's lives by the middle of October. America may be the consumer capital of the world, but fear not, my fellow yanks; our European counterparts are doing their best to catch up and they've got a head start.

Perfection

Sometimes, things just work out the way they're supposed to. All I wanted was to be home at the end of my trip to Ireland and France last week. So much that I bought another train ticket, prepared to forfeit the ticket I had for the following morning and spend the extra cash. But then my plan was foiled and I couldn't cancel my hostel reservation. By the time I added the hostel, the new ticket and the existing to be forfeited morning ticket, I really couldn't justify the price of going home early. So, I put on some music on my mp3 player and headed off to make the most of it. That's when things started to feel really synchronous. Just as I was coming out of the Metro, one of my favorite songs by St. Germaine came on the random shuffle on my mp3 player. I thought to myself, "hmm, this must be a good sign." I checked into the hostel, randomly made a new friend, went to the Eiffel Tower and watched the sunset and then the city go from daylight to twinkling light. On the elevator ride down, the entire tower was sparkling all around me marking the hour with 5 minutes of dazzling display. I met interesting people from all over the world, admired the beauty of Paris and felt peaceful and renewed. I guess that's what taking a vacation is all about. I thought my plans had been foiled, but in the end it was just perfect. Paris, je t'aime.

Breathe

This is what I see every morning when I get off the bus at Avenue des Alpes on the way to work. The view is always different in varying shades of pink, grey, blue and purple and more recently, dramatic burning oranges and reds as the sun rises later and later each day. I stop everyday and take a few deep breaths at this spot. The air is always cool and sometimes wind comes off of the lake and whips up over the town to the part of the hill where I am standing. After a few deep breaths, I turn and walk further up the hill for ten minutes until I finally get to the school, hot and breathless from the brisk uphill walk. I walk into school, turn on the lights in my classroom and prepare for the day. Everyday I have so much to do I can't think where to begin and I think of a million things in my personal life, pesky to-do list life and life at school that I forget to breathe. Those last moments at the Avenue des Alpes before the work day begins are the only peaceful moments I've had in the last few months. And even though I have the next two weeks off, I'm still consumed by all there is to do as a teacher. Everyone said the first year would be rough. It sure is.

Being Sick Makes Me Homesick

It's impossible to find Chicken Soup as we Americans know it in Switzerland. This makes being sick a rough deal. What's worse is that it leads one think, as they lie idly, sick, with foreign TV, of other things lacking and missing and therefore being missed. Becuase, quite honestly, things that are missing are not necessarily worth being missed, and yet, I miss them. I miss them all good and bad. I miss Eugene and the rain. I miss 13th and Espresso Roma. I miss my shitty apartment behind the Glenwood. I miss Joel's apartment on 13th. I miss playing pool at the Indigo District and The Horse Head. I miss Portland and the rain there, too. I miss the Brazen Bean, The Horse Brass and my old room on 2nd Avenue. I miss Market of Choice on Terwilliger, the cemeteries, Stumptown Coffee, playing pool at River City Saloon. I miss Lint in the Pearl and Mable's on Division. I miss the library. I miss OPB radio. I miss Spokane and the way the sunlight filters through the trees. I miss my apartment on 11th. I miss my kitchen and Fiesta Ware, my spices and cookbooks. I miss the Elk and Far West. I miss my family. I miss meeting people and being able to communicate comfortably and naturally in native English. I miss being and feeling understood. I'm homesick. I'm really, really, horribly, terribly homesick. I've been here exactly one month. It's about time I feel homesick. In another two weeks I will absolutely hate Switzerland and everything about it. Then, once the culture shock has passed, I will be able to start really living here and settle in. And then it won't be so bad. Then I'll start to love it and someday when I no longer live here, that will be the Switzerland I'll miss. But today I want home. And even that is unattainable. It's a confused medley of Eugene, Portland and Spokane and I miss them all at once.

The Joy of Fresh Laundry

My usual routine of doing laundry on Sunday has been disturbed by Swiss law. It is strictly forbidden to work on Sundays and to this end, the laundry room is locked all day on Sunday.

This is my favorite washing machine. Its instruction screen is available in 5 languages: German, French, Romansch, Italian and ENGLISH. That makes it 45% incomprehensible as opposed to 100%. The first time I attempted the insanity that is the laundry room I swore with frustration, screamed for fear I had just lost all my points and jumped with my fist in the air shouting "YES!" when the thing finally worked.

Laundry cards cost 20 chf for 43,000 points. Washing is 8,100 points and drying is 3,100. Then, when it's through it gives you some points back depending on the cycle, temperature, etc you've chosen. Much to my surprise, washing and drying comes out to only 2 or 3 chf for me.

That's not to say that doing laundry in Switzerland is altogether cheap. The detergent I like to use is a little steep. ECOVER detergent is 12.90 chf, the fabric softener 6.50 chf and the oxygen bleach 4.80 chf. Once you do the currency conversion, it's about the same price as it is at Huckleberry's, the most expensive grocery store in Spokane.

The dryer has a genius lint trap - it's the ring around the opening. If you don't clean it off, the lint gets stuck to your clothes as you pull them out. I have yet to figure out which cycle is best. At the end it makes the clothes cold again so you have to iron them -- what's the frickin' point? So far, my solution has been to hit the on/off switch and force the door open with ten minutes to go. Mmmm, nice hot clothes, just the way they should be.

It's a Swiss Thing

Before coming to Switzerland, I did my best not to have a lot of expectations of how it would be. When I went to France, the movie Amélie had just come out, so it was pretty tough not to expect it to be just like that. The thing is, in France I was a long-term visitor, and for the first weekend in Paris, a bonafide tourist. So, for me, it was like Amélie. Studying abroad was magical in a way no other trip to another country could be. Life was like the movies.

I can't recall a movie set in Switzerland, but I'm sure it would paint a picture of ultra clean and tidy streets, organization and punctuality, chocolate for everyone and content cows in alpine meadows. HA! What a joke! Switzerland, as least the Switzerland I am living in, is none of the above. Last night my bus was 12 minutes late, last week, my insurance man was more than 20 minutes late. I see grafitti, trash and dog poop in the streets everyday. Getting my phone hooked up took no less than 8 phone calls to the same 2 offices and as many return calls (let's keep in mind I was in a phonebooth) just to get an appointment with an electrician, who in the end, I was told, would show up between 8 and 5! No, no, no my friends. That is not organization. That is not punctuality! That is not ultra clean and tidy and I have yet to see a cow or alpine meadow. No, Switzerland is none of those things. None, except the chocolate thing.

Swiss people eat more chocolate per capita than any country on earth with the average person eating nearly 25 pounds a year. In the grocery store, there is a separate chocolate section all on its own and always crowded. A couple days ago, I went in to pick out a few bars of chocolate. I noticed that Coop has some really cheap varieties (pictured at the right). Lindt is 3 CHF a bar at least. It's good, but so is cheap Swiss chocolate, so I thought it best to stick toward that end of the chocolate store. Just then, a sneaky little man ducked and dove at the cheap chocolate. It's really cheap -- we're talking .45 CHF a bar. He deftly counted them as he stacked them up his arm and took all of them! He walked away with 16 chocolate bars! They're 100 grams each. That right there is a hefty chunk of the yearly quota and based on his skill getting them off the shelf, I don't think he's stocked for months.

It's true, the Swiss love their chocolate. The other stuff is not holding up, not at all. But that's not to say I don't love it here. I do. Especially the chocolate.

The Voyage and Arrival in Pictures

Waiting at the LA airport.
Quite possibly the strangest outfit I've ever seen.
Note that one leg is shaved and the other is not.

LAX. Full of trash.

Travel Kettle. Tea on the go.

Subtlety is overrated.

Postcard, Brit style.

Goodbye England.

Hello France.

As the little picture instructs, just spray on to toilet paper
and wipe the seat clean. Geneva Airport. Clean as can be.

Look what my whacky couch can do!

City officials buzz around in these.

Organic eggs raised in the open air, complete with expiration date stamp.
I like the variety of colors. From my favorite grocery store, Coop.

The Past Three Weeks...

A few days ago, looking at my last post would have made me cry -- again. Jetlag and arriving in a new place has been a far more emotional and difficult experience than I would have assumed. Luckily I didn't have internet until now, and I'm feeling much more settled and adjusted, so no tears today, except maybe a few tears of joy that I now have a phone and a DSL connection!!

Really, there is a lot to bring all of you up to speed on, so here's a quick recap.

Rudy took a bath! On a 95 degree day in Seattle, he looked like he was languid and listless from the heat. My cousin John informed me that all animals can swim and he was right! Little Rudykin seemed to enjoy the cool water and relief from the heat. I think the rabbit paddle is about the cutest thing I've ever seen. Joel helped him out by getting water up onto his back. Rudy is just the sweetest rabbit on earth.


Following the unbearable heat was a week in Spokane. Joel and I had lots of fun housesitting for a family with a really cool dog named Zoey. It was a busy week, full of preparation and the stress made it hard to enjoy the time as it flew by. We did manage to steal one day to go to Tubb's Hill. I didn't swim that day. For some reason I just didn't feel like it. Now I wish I had. It was beautiful and we had a little secluded beach all to ourselves. The kind of place to go to when you close your eyes and want to be somewhere else.

Momentary Relief

Behold the beauty of Elliott Bay. This is the spectacular sunset Joel and I witnessed from the upper deck of the Elliott Bay Water Taxi from Pier 55 downtown to Seacrest Park in West Seattle. This picture, taken with my ancient camera phone, doesn't even begin to convey the delight of that moment. That is because the ride was not only beautiful, but cool. The air off of the water felt absolutely amazing after the scorching hot day we had just endured, providing 15 minutes of blissful, however momentary relief. Only on alighting did I notice the freezer case full of Häagen-Dazs. Mmm. Next time.

If it's yellow, let it mellow...

In the last couple weeks before I leave for Switzerland, I am staying at my sister Amy's house with her, her husband Tod and her stepson Henry. I am having a great time here. We eat dinner and then we play cards and watch some Buffy together. They have a nice family unit and it feels cozy and safe. If it's yellow, they let it mellow. I've gotten used to this.

I'm in a real lame duck period here. I haven't left yet, but I feel strangely transient, strangely rooted. I've been painting at my sister Juliet's house. When it comes to painting, it's probably better to pay a professional than leave it to me, but I'm getting better. Today I got a large amount of paint in my hair. Given that I tire of taping and painting after 2 hours, I would make a pitiful laborer. Not that she doesn't like some really great music, but Juliet likes some really bad music. On track 11 of Sarah Douger's latest my mom finally screamed out, "Juliet, who is this horrible girl?" and being in agreement with my mom's opinion, though not her tactics, I took the liberty of pressing stop. The silence was beautiful.

On an exciting note, my visa arrived from the Consulate on Friday. It's very pretty and takes up a whole page in my passport just like my French student visa did. However, this one is much prettier. As it turns out, the beautiful thing is just my entry visa and I will get my permanent visa the day after I arrive.

That day is drawing near and I'm incredibly anxious. Incredibly so.

Good Music & Reunions

I continue to be enamored with Worlds Apart by Trail of Dead. I swear to God, every time I listen to it, it gets better. The lyrics are emerging from the music like never before and this is probably my favorite part about any piece of music, how it hits you in layers. Mmmm, good.

MySpace is something I have only taken seriously recently. Today I got a "friend request" from a girl in highschool whom I have not been in touch with or even really thought about in years. It's the weirdest thing to see someone's face smiling out at you from their picture and remember them. It's neat, actually. For the first time I am actually looking forward to the highschool reunion I swore I would never attend.

So that's that. We all need good music and reunions. They keeps things in perspective.

Summer of Thunder

A storm is going outside. The raindrops started lightly and now they're pounding erratically on the garden. Lightning illuminates the room, thunder claps loudly and the raindrops soften. A break. This has been the summer of thunder tumbling through the clouds, the summer of the smell of fresh rain. Of rapid, sky separating lightning. And the raindrops pick up again and the thunder claps once more. It's all happening in succession. It's release yet it fuels more of the same.

Thank God for ...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead

I have had this album for what, a year now? And only recently, in the last few weeks, have I become completely addicted to it? It's so weird the way that can happen, but it has. I feel like a teenager again with this album. In these days of iPods and iTunes, a person rarely buys a cd and proceeds to listen to it in order from beginning to end, but despite the fact that this album is on my iTunes, I do just that. Trail of Dead has music for every feeling, every occassion and it's almost all present on this single album. The only thing that's missing is a song for when you really need to rage and you're so pissed off all you want to do is scream along with something aggressive. The only song for that is "A Perfect Teenhood" from Trail of Dead's album Madonna. Last year Joel saw Trail of Dead in Köln where they put on what sounds like a stellar performance they finished off by breaking all of their stuff to the aforementioned song. He sent me the song right away claiming Trail of Dead was the most amazing band ever, or something to that degree. I listened, but it was way way way too heavy for me at first. The sort of thing that really puts you on edge and makes you want to grind your teeth before bed at night. But then it grew on me in a major way and when I got World's Apart, I got ready for more grinding and edginess only to be surprised by the most diverse, quality album I've heard in a long time. My favorite songs are Caterwaul and Let it Dive and I almost got a speeding ticket last week listening to them while driving.

I have my fingers crossed that they will play a show in Europe while I'm there. Sadly, they'll be in Austria, Germany and Belgium this weekend. They're two weeks early!! I don't leave for Switzerland until August 1st. But, with a new album due out in October, they'll be back on the continent again, for sure. Check out their fansite blog at www.trailofdead.org. It's some of the more hilarious writing I've encountered and I'm pretty sure it's all penned by Conrad Keely, Trail of Dead's own frontman.