The First Day :o)

Allow me to start this post by stressing how aboslutely FUN it is to type on a foreign keyboard in which NONE of the characters are in their respectful American places! lol :) Not to mention the umlauts and accented characters which clutter the keyboard as well. But I am not complaining in the slightest!!

Well, in case you wondered--we made it! And as coherent, savvy American tourists at that!

The day started off early (well, for mom the day was somewhat of a continuation of the night... procrastination runs deep in my family, therefore causing my mother to not sleep a wink in the night preceding our departure!). At 10:00, Eric, our chauffeur extraordinaire, came to whisk us away to Cleveland Hopkins Airport. It was a short car-ride... too short, in fact. For some reason I was dreading the arrival--be it the fact that I had been having nightmares about plane disasters, or the fact that I had been dreading saying goodbye to my home country, or perhaps the fact that I knew Eric and I would be parting ways soon... regardless, I felt extremely panicked. Although I must congratulate myself on keeping my cool quite well throughout the venture.

Until we had to go through security (SUH-curity!). That's when I felt the hot tears welling up in my eyes. I hugged Eric goodbye, reacting quite emotionally although comforted by the fact that I would soon see him again in September, and proceeded to have every belonging (yes, even the shoes) violated by the Airport security. Thaaaaank you Terrorism Level Orange.

At 2:30 we boarded our plane, and soon we were off to Washington D.C., Dulles airport. The planeride was... rough... to say the least! But it was bearable and enjoyable due to the fact that I had begun the first few chapters of "The Kite Runner." Already drawn into the curious and compelling story, the flight *quite literally* flew by!

So here I am. In the nation's capital. Am I going to the Smithsonian? No. Am I visiting the Washington monument? No. I am waiting for boarding in the bustling terminal. However, I don't actually mind the people-watching that comes with those long waits. I love thinking about each passing person's story: Where are they going? Who are they going to see? Who are these people? What lives do they lead? I also found it amusing that there are multiple "American" shops, sporting life-size cardboard cutouts of Senator Obama and John McCain, endorsing our nation's presidential candidates. I found it even moreso amusing that most of the people in this store... were, indeed, foreign. Many people have encouraged me to read up on the government and current politics of the U.S., as it is almost guaranteed that I will be questioned, interrogated, and probed about my countries beliefs. Talk about pressure--I will be representing our country and it's beliefs to many Europeans I come in contact with.

That's what I love about larger, international airports like Washington Dulles. It's the small sampling of people that let you know the U.S. is truly a "melting pot" like they say. Hearing the jibber-jabber of languages I don't (or sometimes do) understand, watching young European toddlers as they try to communicate with their parents, all the while realizing that body language is truly the same in every language. Regardless, I felt cool. I felt urban. I felt cultured. And I had a Starbucks in hand... can it get any better?! It was here that I sent out my last text messages until December.

Well, it was time to board the Boeing 767-300 to Zurich, Switzerland. As I was sitting, waiting for take-off, I suddenly felt like I was the main character in a movie. Yes. Probably a romantic comedy. I was Meg Ryan. Sitting on the plane and contemplating her life as she's about to embark on this huge adventure in a foreign country. The camera zooms in on her pensive face as she reflects on the loved ones she's leaving behind, but there's a smile and a sense of hope as she thinks of all of the unexpected and unknown....

Okay, lame...

But I really did feel like I was in a movie! The flight was very pleasant... about as comfortable as you can get for an 8 hour flight. I got the window seat, so I was able to watch the buildings turn into little specks and see the rural famland turn into a patchwork quilt of greens and browns. The clouds were my favorite. When we'd reached our cruising altitude of about 34,000 ft, it honestly looked like God had reached down with His mighty hand and done stucco texturing to the tops of the clouds. Who says God can't do interior decorating?! And I did manage to sleep... about 2 horus or so :(

Arriving in Zurich airport brought back so many reasons why I love Europe. Dogs roaming free, inside the restaurants and inside the airport. Toilet stalls that are actually little individual rooms... with full-length doors. Cars yield for pedestrians--at all times. And they're not even mad about it! However, it also was a quick reminder of those tiny cultural/social discrepancies. Rampant PDA. Everywhere. It was insane! Smoking. Everywhere. Bra-less women. Everywhere! (lol)

We took the train to meet up with Fritz Shepard, the gentleman/businessman/lawyer from New Phila who so kindly supported the Delphian Chorale when we went to Austria. He lives right outside of Zurich now, and continues his law practice in the city. We met him for coffee/wasser mit gas at this cute little outdoor cafe, Sprungli, on the courtyard Paradeplatz. It was so wonderful to see a familiar face! He filled us in on everything about the area, and continued commenting on how important it is to travel and see the world when you're young. Fritz stressed the importance of being able to see past your own backyard and view issues on a more global level. He was tickeled to know that I, among many other chorale members, were studying abroad in our college careers.

I mean to tell you... being in Zurich is like being in New York City--without the terrible stentch! Every possible elite name brand you can think of: Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Burberry, Cartier, Fendi, Prada, you name it... it was there. I don't even think I could've afforded to STEP INSIDE these places! But everyone walked everywhere. I was thoroughly amazed by the prevelance of English in the city. Nearly everyone we encountered spoke it. Signs were all pictoral and/or available in English. And there were plenty of American commodities in the stores. There was barely any traffic, save the public transportation system. We bought some wine and chocolates for our hosts, and continued to walk aimlessly.

Around dinner time, we took the train to Neuchatel (literally translating to New Castle--a generally French region of Switzerland), where we would meet up with our distant cousin, Remi Schupbach and his translator, Cormac (Yes, I can struggle my way through a French conversation well enough... but can you imagine 3 days worth?!). Remi is a cheery French man, quite short in stature (but does that surprise you all?!), with a great sense of humor. Cormac is a friend who is staying with Remi short-term for work/business purposes. Interestingly enough, Cormac is actually Irish but took up French in high school/college and enjoys travelling. They are both such kind and doting hosts!

When we arrived at the apartment in the heart of the village, I felt as though I could bust out some Beauty and the Beast at any minute: "Little town... it's a quiet village..." It truly is the epitome of that quiet, quaint provincial French town. Cobblestone roads, tall townhouses with rustic shutters, fountains, gardens, large wooden doors. I can't even begin to tell you how gorgeous and HUGE the inside of this house is. I have my own room. And Remi set out slippers, a robe, a towel, and even some Bailey's (to help me unwind from the hectic day I suppose!! lol). I tickled the ivories of the baby grand in the living room and relaxed a bit. Soon enough, Remi busted out the h'ors derves (sp?) and opened up a bottle of champaigne. "Sante! Et les Schupbachs!" I'll toast to that :)

We ended up climbing the road to the top of the hill, in which sat a large gothic style church. It was fantastically beautiful, especially at night with the nearly-full moon shining on it. Remi articulated on the history, saying that one of the older towers dated back to the 11th century. Something about the incredible calm that placated the night air and the moon reflecting on the river... it made me wonder why more people don't live like this.

At about 10 pm, we trekked down to the village square which was all-a-bustle with street musicians and food vendors. Villagers and tourists were everywhere, dancing, clapping, and laughing along. It was intoxicating just being around it. It is referred to as the "Buskers Festival: Festival des musiciens de rue" There were jazz bands, accordian players, comedians, theatrics, and even an American magician. It reminded me of what E.C.H.O tried to simulate with "Long Night of Music" in downtown Phila. The couples dancing were asolutely entertaining to watch. It's not like in the U.S. where you either sway side to side or bump and grind... they were legitimately dancing. Tangos, two-steps, you name it. Young and old.

After we'd had our fill of music and dancing, Remi, Cormac, mom and I went back up the hill to the apartment where Remi cooked us dinner (at 11 pm!!). Aaaaand not just your average mac-and-cheese. Noooo. We began with olive bread and salade (complete with vinegar, extra virgin olive oil and some Morroccan dressing), then moved onto steak. AMAZING steak, with these broiled/salted potatoes of sorts. It looked like a million bucks--no joke--and he whipped it up in less than a half hour. After finishing our Pinor Noir (the only kind of wine that his region is commissioned to make), we said our goodnights and went off to bed.

Tomorrow, we will travel with Remi and his sister-in-law Jacqueline (who will be translating for us), to the village of Schupbach and to Bern, where my ancestors originated. In the meantime, I do intend on sleeping :)

Gute nacht!
Laura