If you've ever spent an extended period of time in my presence you have no doubt heard me utter the title phrase of this post at least once. Now, as a general rule, I try to avoid shortened versions of what are, in fact, perfectly simple words--in this case, the word difference. As for the colloquialism itself, I have always taken it to mean that while one may be speaking of apples or bananas, Tuesday or Thursday, it really doesn't matter because fruit is fruit and a school day is rather like any other school day. Thus, I am of a mind to point out (mostly just for myself) things that I've experienced here that are similar to back home. Here goes:
The food. While almost every meal is an exercise in grease endurance and an adventure into the land of new flavors and textures, somehow there is also a constant---something familiar to look to and enjoy. Case in point, I have yet to know what something is before I eat it by name, seeing as I know exactly 1 name of a german food item (bratwurst, something that keeps constant company in my new domicile...sigh) but even so, I know well that "there are no new ideas under the sun" and as a result, I at least recognize some ingredients, if not the Swiss form they take. I have particularly enjoyed a traditional Swiss meal that amounts to an indoor picnic of famous local fair---dried meats, "real" Swiss cheese, a million different kinds of bread, and various oils and seasonings to share. A favorite of my new charges that I have been converted to has been translated for me as "the baby of the Dutch." Whatever. It looks something like balls of crepe dough shaped like popcorn and about the size of a large strawberry. Each can be filled with almost anything, as well as topped. A house favorite is cheese and garlic, or nutella and honey. While not exactly bacon or fried chicken, it'll do for now.
The school. I have yet to visit the local school house that Jamie and Raina attend during school hours, but from what I have seen, it is typical. And perfect. White walls, watercolors for decoration, little tables for crafts and even carpet squares. Their playground has facilities for soccer and basketball, but also ropes courses and a wooded area with a cabin and odd little teepees made from bound saplings wrapped with other branches. Raina, like myself at her age, is overly fond of monkey bars and swing-sets, and sometimes we walk down after school so she can show me tricks. It is grand.
Out-of-doors in general. Most days (minus the rainy ones or when I have been too sick) I take a morning walk around Malix. I have yet to do one as ambitious as my first, which was in fact a hike over a mountain pass toward the next village in the neighboring valley, but simply walking a mile or two away from the house leads to quaint bridges over babbling brooks or steep fields of wild daisies. Innumerable pines cover the hillsides that encircle Malix, not so unlike the Ponderosa kingdoms found in Colorado and North Spokane. Though, I'll admit my favorite feature is a tall, wide-reaching Aspen in the Bruesch family's backyard. Its leaves are soft and green now, and they bob in that friendly, Aspen like way when the breeze moves through them. Soon they will be solid gold, and I will see home again.
And finally, the music. To no one's surprise, I am sure, it is kind of a given that no matter where you go on this planet American music is near at hand. Rural Switzerland is no acceptation. The local radio DJ will mumble something I can't decipher, randomly peppering his speech with names like "Toby Keith" and "Miley Cyrus." My host, Chrigl, is big into American rock music, while Carrie likes country, so my days are often filled with such musical gems as "Highway to Hell" and "Margaritaville." Naturally, this musical flavor has influenced young Jamie, who is a big Tom Petty fan. In a moment of sheer awesomeness, he and I bonded over his guitar lessons. Like most kids his age, "practicing" might at well be a vegetable, he's so fond of it. But when I told him I'd teach him some Petty if he played me his chords--voia! That kids is fast too. I played him the grand total of three chords it take to play "Free Fallin'" and off he went to play it for his dad. Sweet success.
And then there is, of course, my own essential music library, the soundtrack to my life, if you will. Like a lot of people, I have songs that are intrinsically tied into certain places, certain events, certain people. Tom Petty's "Saving Grace" is now the official song of Lindsay in Switzerland, track 1. Any other suggestions for my ever-hungry musical appetite?
In short, I am learning that "here" and "there" and "home" and "far" are words only as scary or as important as we make them. That doesn't mean I'm not lonely, or that life at this moment is any less challenging that it was a day ago, it's just that I can see the sameness better now. People, places, food, fun. Life is just life, no matter who you are, or where you are.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
i am the cheese
So, ironically, (or not so ironically?) this new phase of my life has presented me with more unscheduled time that I have probably ever had in my life. Weird. To that end, I will probably be blogging a lot in the coming weeks, so I hope I don't get too boring. I have also had time to read other blogs and really just be introspective little me. Dangerous, I know.
Here are some things that have been on my mind of late:
As terrified and lonely as I am here in Malix (and yes, I know that compared to plenty of places the world over I am ridiculously safe at the moment--just go with me) I know that I have nevertheless been given an opportunity to challenge my fears head on. It remains to be seen if I really stand up to them. Wish me luck!
I've realized that, while I profess to be an expert in solitude, I do not in fact enjoy it. I mean, I never really did in high school or college anyway, but it was just easier. Here, solitude is simply part of existence, like breathing. Thus, I am trying to make the best of it--at least I can read and write to my heart's content without interruption (well, during the hours that Jamie and Raina are out of the house or asleep, anyway.)
Another of my fears is traveling. Now, I know that might sound odd, as it is in fact an element of my life that has yielded some of the greatest experiences and memories I posses, but this is really my first official SOLO adventure. I don't know how much I like that. Travel is infinitely more fun with people. My hosts, Carrie and Chrigl, have generously provided me with a Swiss travel card, allowing me to travel by train for half-price within the country, as well as in Germany and Austria. Trouble is, I am terrified to travel alone. And while I know that Europe in general is arguably the safest place I could be, I still hate that I'll be a lone American female, hopping trains and wandering cities like Bern and Lucern by myself. Furthermore, I haven't the foggiest notion of where I should even want to go. Never really thinking of Switzerland as a possible destination for my life, it never occurred to me to take interest in its sights or cultural attractions. The same goes for its geographical neighbors. Anybody have any suggestions of places to visit and things to see in the general area? Even with my Frommer's guidebook I still feel lost.
Along with that, there's the whole language thing. I know I've harped on this before, so I promise to be brief, but that is really the thing that scares me the most. It is one thing to get on a bus or train and travel to the coast for a few days in England or the States, in an environment where, even if (let's be honest here, more like inevitably when) I get lost, I can at least ask for help and be understood, as well as capable of understanding what is said to me. Here, I simply do not have that luxury. If I get on the wrong bus, I'll have no way of knowing it. I can't even read a sign that says "left" or "right." Mind, I have taken small steps to cure this, thanks in large part to a children's book and apps for iphone, but it remains nevertheless the most alien part of my life here.
Having said the above, however, I know that all things in life take a little getting use to. There is always the inevitable period of adjustment and a steep learning curve. And I'm trying. I will keep trying every single day, even when I screw up.
I am grateful for one thing in particular however, one that I hope will stick with me after I return home--the fact that the human race is an incredibly adaptable and teachable thing. Just as Chrigl was able to find a niche in the States and learn the language of its people before returning to his native country to work and raise a family, I too hope to grow to feel comfortable here, even if German remains beyond my grasp. I also hope that I will remember the courage I have seen within myself, even so early in my journey. I still have a lot of new things to experience--principle among them being: taking the car for a spin, trying out the public transpo to the city of Chur, and maybe even grocery shopping--but I hope that when it is all over I can face other challenges from a point of view that takes into account different kinds of challenges. I hope that I will never again feel bad about asking for directions when lost in downtown Denver, or wherever the heck I end up. And I hope I never belittle the experiences in my life with qualifiers like "just." (i.e.- Yeah, I worked as an au pair in Switzerland, but just for a little while, and the kids spoke English, so it was no big deal.) Wrong. This is the biggest deal I've encountered in a long time. And while I know other beloved friends are doing things that seem more challenging and require more bravery in my book (Kelsey, Elizabeth, Sarah, Katie, Jenny, Sam, Smac or Allison, for example) I also know that they are where they are suppose to be. And even if I can't see it right now, so am I.
Today's nonsensical/ Jabberwocky Note: The title of this post comes from a line in a children's nursery rhyme called "The Farmer in the Dell." If you don't remember it, the gist is that, after all the other characters in the song are mentioned, "the cheese stands alone." Right now, dear friends, I feel like cheese. But that is not necessarily a bad thing. After all, I rather like Swiss cheese.
Here are some things that have been on my mind of late:
As terrified and lonely as I am here in Malix (and yes, I know that compared to plenty of places the world over I am ridiculously safe at the moment--just go with me) I know that I have nevertheless been given an opportunity to challenge my fears head on. It remains to be seen if I really stand up to them. Wish me luck!
I've realized that, while I profess to be an expert in solitude, I do not in fact enjoy it. I mean, I never really did in high school or college anyway, but it was just easier. Here, solitude is simply part of existence, like breathing. Thus, I am trying to make the best of it--at least I can read and write to my heart's content without interruption (well, during the hours that Jamie and Raina are out of the house or asleep, anyway.)
Another of my fears is traveling. Now, I know that might sound odd, as it is in fact an element of my life that has yielded some of the greatest experiences and memories I posses, but this is really my first official SOLO adventure. I don't know how much I like that. Travel is infinitely more fun with people. My hosts, Carrie and Chrigl, have generously provided me with a Swiss travel card, allowing me to travel by train for half-price within the country, as well as in Germany and Austria. Trouble is, I am terrified to travel alone. And while I know that Europe in general is arguably the safest place I could be, I still hate that I'll be a lone American female, hopping trains and wandering cities like Bern and Lucern by myself. Furthermore, I haven't the foggiest notion of where I should even want to go. Never really thinking of Switzerland as a possible destination for my life, it never occurred to me to take interest in its sights or cultural attractions. The same goes for its geographical neighbors. Anybody have any suggestions of places to visit and things to see in the general area? Even with my Frommer's guidebook I still feel lost.
Along with that, there's the whole language thing. I know I've harped on this before, so I promise to be brief, but that is really the thing that scares me the most. It is one thing to get on a bus or train and travel to the coast for a few days in England or the States, in an environment where, even if (let's be honest here, more like inevitably when) I get lost, I can at least ask for help and be understood, as well as capable of understanding what is said to me. Here, I simply do not have that luxury. If I get on the wrong bus, I'll have no way of knowing it. I can't even read a sign that says "left" or "right." Mind, I have taken small steps to cure this, thanks in large part to a children's book and apps for iphone, but it remains nevertheless the most alien part of my life here.
Having said the above, however, I know that all things in life take a little getting use to. There is always the inevitable period of adjustment and a steep learning curve. And I'm trying. I will keep trying every single day, even when I screw up.
I am grateful for one thing in particular however, one that I hope will stick with me after I return home--the fact that the human race is an incredibly adaptable and teachable thing. Just as Chrigl was able to find a niche in the States and learn the language of its people before returning to his native country to work and raise a family, I too hope to grow to feel comfortable here, even if German remains beyond my grasp. I also hope that I will remember the courage I have seen within myself, even so early in my journey. I still have a lot of new things to experience--principle among them being: taking the car for a spin, trying out the public transpo to the city of Chur, and maybe even grocery shopping--but I hope that when it is all over I can face other challenges from a point of view that takes into account different kinds of challenges. I hope that I will never again feel bad about asking for directions when lost in downtown Denver, or wherever the heck I end up. And I hope I never belittle the experiences in my life with qualifiers like "just." (i.e.- Yeah, I worked as an au pair in Switzerland, but just for a little while, and the kids spoke English, so it was no big deal.) Wrong. This is the biggest deal I've encountered in a long time. And while I know other beloved friends are doing things that seem more challenging and require more bravery in my book (Kelsey, Elizabeth, Sarah, Katie, Jenny, Sam, Smac or Allison, for example) I also know that they are where they are suppose to be. And even if I can't see it right now, so am I.
Today's nonsensical/ Jabberwocky Note: The title of this post comes from a line in a children's nursery rhyme called "The Farmer in the Dell." If you don't remember it, the gist is that, after all the other characters in the song are mentioned, "the cheese stands alone." Right now, dear friends, I feel like cheese. But that is not necessarily a bad thing. After all, I rather like Swiss cheese.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
New and Different
It is day five here in Malix, Switzerland. It feels like a lot longer. In the last four days I have experienced and seen and tried more new things than I have in I don't know how long. Some of them are as follows:
Lindsay's List of "Firsts":
1. Never have I had such an easy transition in airport immigration (win for the Swiss)
2. First meeting with Chrigl, my first Swiss-German friend and employer to boot
3. First "ah-ha" moment when it comes to kids. It's all about distracting them. (and while that might not sounds so significant, it was a breakthrough for me to realize that I can do more than just feed and play with Jamie and Raina--I can cheer them up, help them, and we can learn from each other).
4. First Bratwurst. And yes, I ate all of it. Never gonna be a favorite of mine, but not terrible, really.
5. First Alpine ski-lift ride. Considering it is still summery here we just rode up and then took a weird sled/roller-coaster like ride back down. At first it was terrifying, but then fun!
6. First time in a foreign hospital (not for myself, don't worry. Carrie, the mom I work for, is being treated for Cerebral Meningitis in a (slightly) larger town north of here called Chur. I hope I never have to be in any hospital at all, but that one seemed extra-cold and un-fun.)
7. First meeting with Carrie, for that matter. After months of e-mail, it was unfortunate to meet under these circumstances, but she seems nice anyhow, and very kind.
8. First Swiss hike. I wandered up (everything is always UP here. I hope I adapt to this soon.) and away from the house and took a map Chrigl made for me. The views here really are stunning!
9. The above was closely followed by my first "lost in the wilderness" in Switzerland. I lost the trail I was on at one point, but seeing a clearing and what looked like it could be a steep path through grass, I tried it. Fail. I ended up in a cow pasture about 9 feet straight up from where I had come. Thus, I was glad there was no one around to see me stumble and slide my way back down and backtrack. You would think that a wooden sigh pointing left would mean "trail," not "cows." Whatever. I have months to figure it out.
10. First social excursion in Switzerland. It was nothing too special, as most (ok, almost all) the people in Malix and the surrounding towns of Churwalden and south to Leinserhide are either over 50 or young families, but I got the chance to take the kids and a few of their little friends to a sports center for their swimming lessons and to just hang out. It is a brand new facility with an indoor/outdoor pool, the outside of which is very like Ouray with the stunning mountain views, but with the added bonus of what Raina calls "bubble beds," i.e., raised layers of pipes that go around the pool's perimeter that you can lay on, which then emit full body jet streams of hot water. Paradise.
Overall, I am really enjoying everything I'm doing. There are new things to see and learn every single day, which keeps me on my toes, but some times it gets overwhelming. I have yet to visit Chur on my own because I'm not so sure about mountain driving. But all in good time. Maybe tomorrow I will hike a little further, and a little further the day after. By next week I might even drive. Then I might try to take the bus (as Malix is so small, locals travel by Post bus, thus, I need to be sure the bus goes where I want it to and will do the same thing the other way before getting on. A tough go when you don't speak German and the locals don't speak English.) In fact, I might try to take a trip to Southern Switzerland on one of my upcoming breaks simply to be in the company of Italians. It's not English, to be sure, but if I can get my point across with Spanish, I'm game.
I think that being here has highlighted the invaluably of language--or, if you like, communication in general-- more than anything else. It never occurred to me until I spent a two hour drive with Chrigl (who speaks excellent English) that words and phrases are monumentally important to relationships. He would tell me about a village or mountain and I would try to follow him, but there were, understandably, words he had no translation for. I in turn would try to list off cognate words in English, realizing that "park" "forrest" "preserve" "valley" or simply "green" would have all fit his description, and neither of us knew which was correct. Also, I became painfully aware of how often I, and others, use slang or colloquial phrases in passing. How is a non-native speaker suppose to understand me when I ask "wannagofurawaaak?" And while having the kids around is a big help (they speak 3 languages each) I haven't a hope of communicated with locals, even other kids. One of Raina's school friends came over to ask her to play (at least that is what I assume she said) and I told her Raina was in town with her father. The girl said she did not speak English, I told her I did not speak German, and we stood in the doorway for a while, trying to think of how to communicate. We couldn't even write it down. And how do you do hand signs for "back later?" Nine year old Jamie has consented to be by German teacher for the time being, so we have started with numbers 1-10. Trouble is, he writes them down and I have no clue how to pronounce them. This, I realize, is going to be an ongoing battle--one I hope I can win.
Lindsay's List of "Firsts":
1. Never have I had such an easy transition in airport immigration (win for the Swiss)
2. First meeting with Chrigl, my first Swiss-German friend and employer to boot
3. First "ah-ha" moment when it comes to kids. It's all about distracting them. (and while that might not sounds so significant, it was a breakthrough for me to realize that I can do more than just feed and play with Jamie and Raina--I can cheer them up, help them, and we can learn from each other).
4. First Bratwurst. And yes, I ate all of it. Never gonna be a favorite of mine, but not terrible, really.
5. First Alpine ski-lift ride. Considering it is still summery here we just rode up and then took a weird sled/roller-coaster like ride back down. At first it was terrifying, but then fun!
6. First time in a foreign hospital (not for myself, don't worry. Carrie, the mom I work for, is being treated for Cerebral Meningitis in a (slightly) larger town north of here called Chur. I hope I never have to be in any hospital at all, but that one seemed extra-cold and un-fun.)
7. First meeting with Carrie, for that matter. After months of e-mail, it was unfortunate to meet under these circumstances, but she seems nice anyhow, and very kind.
8. First Swiss hike. I wandered up (everything is always UP here. I hope I adapt to this soon.) and away from the house and took a map Chrigl made for me. The views here really are stunning!
9. The above was closely followed by my first "lost in the wilderness" in Switzerland. I lost the trail I was on at one point, but seeing a clearing and what looked like it could be a steep path through grass, I tried it. Fail. I ended up in a cow pasture about 9 feet straight up from where I had come. Thus, I was glad there was no one around to see me stumble and slide my way back down and backtrack. You would think that a wooden sigh pointing left would mean "trail," not "cows." Whatever. I have months to figure it out.
10. First social excursion in Switzerland. It was nothing too special, as most (ok, almost all) the people in Malix and the surrounding towns of Churwalden and south to Leinserhide are either over 50 or young families, but I got the chance to take the kids and a few of their little friends to a sports center for their swimming lessons and to just hang out. It is a brand new facility with an indoor/outdoor pool, the outside of which is very like Ouray with the stunning mountain views, but with the added bonus of what Raina calls "bubble beds," i.e., raised layers of pipes that go around the pool's perimeter that you can lay on, which then emit full body jet streams of hot water. Paradise.
Overall, I am really enjoying everything I'm doing. There are new things to see and learn every single day, which keeps me on my toes, but some times it gets overwhelming. I have yet to visit Chur on my own because I'm not so sure about mountain driving. But all in good time. Maybe tomorrow I will hike a little further, and a little further the day after. By next week I might even drive. Then I might try to take the bus (as Malix is so small, locals travel by Post bus, thus, I need to be sure the bus goes where I want it to and will do the same thing the other way before getting on. A tough go when you don't speak German and the locals don't speak English.) In fact, I might try to take a trip to Southern Switzerland on one of my upcoming breaks simply to be in the company of Italians. It's not English, to be sure, but if I can get my point across with Spanish, I'm game.
I think that being here has highlighted the invaluably of language--or, if you like, communication in general-- more than anything else. It never occurred to me until I spent a two hour drive with Chrigl (who speaks excellent English) that words and phrases are monumentally important to relationships. He would tell me about a village or mountain and I would try to follow him, but there were, understandably, words he had no translation for. I in turn would try to list off cognate words in English, realizing that "park" "forrest" "preserve" "valley" or simply "green" would have all fit his description, and neither of us knew which was correct. Also, I became painfully aware of how often I, and others, use slang or colloquial phrases in passing. How is a non-native speaker suppose to understand me when I ask "wannagofurawaaak?" And while having the kids around is a big help (they speak 3 languages each) I haven't a hope of communicated with locals, even other kids. One of Raina's school friends came over to ask her to play (at least that is what I assume she said) and I told her Raina was in town with her father. The girl said she did not speak English, I told her I did not speak German, and we stood in the doorway for a while, trying to think of how to communicate. We couldn't even write it down. And how do you do hand signs for "back later?" Nine year old Jamie has consented to be by German teacher for the time being, so we have started with numbers 1-10. Trouble is, he writes them down and I have no clue how to pronounce them. This, I realize, is going to be an ongoing battle--one I hope I can win.
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