Reckless Abandon

I can't explain it.

I don't know why.

But for some unknown reason I've been acting strangely lately--so strangely that even I've noticed.

I'll be sitting on the ground near the train-yards in Chur and suddenly have the overwhelming desire to jump on a train, regardless of destination.

I'll go hiking and suddenly find myself halfway up a tree or making my way upstream along a creek, intent on reaching the waterfall in the distance, completely unaware of how I got there.

Today, for example, while straddling a log in the middle of a creek about a hundred yards from the actual trail, I thought I heard someone call out to me and after a minute I realized that two mountain-bikers on the trail below were trying to get my attention. They waved and spoke to me and I just shrugged and smiled back and waved in a friendly, "I know I must look stupid but I promise I'll be fine" kind of way, (if only waves could say so much,) and I watched them ride off looking reluctant and skeptical---I imagine they half considered coming after me...that, or calling the authorities to report a crazy American wandering unchecked in the wilderness, endangering the lives of unsuspecting locals and the occasional cow.

Still emboldened though I was, my encounter with the bikers sobered my spontaneous adventure somewhat and I gave up the waterfall in favor of proceeding on my hike as planned. I took a great many "wrong turns" if you want to call them that, for I would get tired of the trail I was on and so turn off onto the tiny little livestock paths and muddy bogs as they arose, just for a change of pace.  I fell once or twice coming down some of the impossibly steep paths and more than a few times I thoughts that my knees or ankles were in for an encounter of the dangerous and painful kind, but after three hours I found myself a bench and was pleased to discover that, save a few cuts and a variety of injuries to my palms, I was entirely unhurt.

I took a while to consider the idea of "motivation." Why I chose to take this hike, turn left at that last fork, and so on. In truth, I don't know why I do a lot of things. But I do know that if I had company on this adventure of mine I don't think I'd be anywhere near as reckless or spontaneous or impulsive.

As it stands now, I am free to be reckless and stupid without worrying what a companion might think of my choices. And while it could be argued that I currently have more responsibilities of an obvious nature than ever before---childcare and everything attached to it, coupled with running and maintaining a household being chief among those rather important obligations---somehow, amidst all of that, I feel a freedom, a sense of control to my own life that I don't quite understand, though I am growing more and more fond of it with each passing day. I think it has a lot to do with the lack of people in my life that I sometimes find myself performing for.

Here I have no real audience. Carrie and Chrigl are often so busy with work that we do not see each other for days at a time, and as long as I am willing to play and engage with Jamie and Raina in their daily lives, they, like most children, show no acknowledgment for a life that I might lead separate from theirs.

These kids really do amaze me, each and every day. I wish I could be more like them. Hell, that might just be where my recklessness stems from--watching these kids who are amazingly talented and intelligent and wise and brave...it makes me feel just a little smarter and a little more brave myself.

And I think that's good, as my return home and lack of plans thereafter will inevitably require some bravery. So here's to being bold! May we all get a dash of courage in our stockings this year : )

Adventure in Flims

In the last few days, weeks, and months I have learned a lot about kids and parents. A few hours ago I returned from a three day stint in a town called Flims (about an hour's bus ride from Malix) where I baby-sat four-year-old twins for Carrie's Scottish friend, Eilanne, and her Romanish-Swiss husband, Ricco. It was weird at first, suddenly being in a new house with new kids--new rules, new games, new everything!--and yet it was one of my better weekend adventures...if you don't count Italy, of course.


I had a hard time in the beginning (this being Friday morning,) as I had only met Eilanne twice before, and her children, Angus and Reeve, once. (Now that I think about it, my whole experience in Switzerland has been full of weird introductions...case in point: the first time I met Ricco was on Friday night. He came bursting through his front door, arms clutching a briefcase, several bags of groceries and a bottle wine, only to find a strange American girl setting his kitchen table and spearing boiled potatoes with a cleaver. The poor man took it very well, all things considered.) But, as I had no time to dwell on the awkwardness of it all, (potato-spearing and kid-calming and bottle-opening and fire-starting leaving little room for more than a hello and a handshake) Ricco and I seemed to get on capitally from the start.


After meeting, cooking for, and getting the lay of the land from Ricco, he and Eilanne took off on a holiday in Lugano, leaving their home and their children in the hands of a relative stranger who was more than a little apprehensive. (After being warned about some of the antics the twins sometimes get up to I was beginning to think three days might just kill me.) However, it turned out that I spent a truly wonderful long weekend cooking for two relatively compliant kids with adorable semi-Scottish accents, watching a good deal of BBC--albeit kid's telly, but I'll take what I can get in English--hiking, drinking copious amount of tea, playing football with Angus, having tea parties with Reeve, making snow-angels, navigating a 90-year-old kitchen stove and having a positively grand time all the while.

The aforementioned stove. It took some getting use to :)

Indeed, I think Saturday night will be one for the history books, though it was by no means an extraordinary evening. In a quite old house in rural Switzerland, with Angus and Reeve asleep upstairs and my 6th mug of Earl Grey warming my hands, I curled up on the couch near a popping fire and watched To Kill A Mockingbird. I know it doesn't sound like much, but it really felt like renewal to me. In those few hours I unearthed pure bliss. If only such simple pleasures could be distilled and captured like decanted wine. Then would not life be perfect?


Needless to say, I was almost disappointed to leave Flims behind me in the morning, so pleasant was my stay. Yet in addition to the respite afforded me by my weekend away from Jamie and Raina, I also learned a little something. As I have very little experience of my own when it comes to childcare, it was interesting for me to watch and interact with a new family after spending so much time in the company of one set of parents and one group of kids. I'm sure that for most people this next observation will produce a resounding "duh!" but for me it really was a  revelation: no matter where you are or who you're with, kids will be kids, and, even more importantly, moms will be moms. And in light of the former, thank god for the latter!


And as I still consider myself rather child-like in many respects, I shall use myself to illustrate, for after having met me only twice before, Elianne met me at the bus stop in Flims on Friday morning, scolded me for my lack of a warm scarf and promptly produced an extra from her magical-Mom bag.


Moms, huh?


Really though, her actions and general openness to me as well as the unending kindness and hospitality of all my Swiss hosts has made all the difference in the world. I feel as though I've discovered a new kind of home here. I shall be sad to leave it behind.