Our second day in Switzerland didn't begin until about 10 in the afternoon. I was thankful to have slept off the jet lag, but was worried about our late start to touring Bern and Schupbach.
After getting our showers we called Remi to return home. He owns a dental lab in which denture and crowns are made, so it was easy for him to take the day off to accompany us on our tours. When he returned to the flat, he brought with him croissants and pears for breakfast. Tres delicieux. Mom made the mistake of agreeing to some "cafe" or coffee. I think she had envisioned a large cup of cappucino, maybe Folgers as we know it in the US... and when he placed the teensy weensy cup infront of her I wish I could have captured her expression on film! Haha! It was very strong espresso. Bitter, and only to be sipped in small amounts at a time.
It was then that Jacqueline Molliet, Remi's sister-in-law, arrived. An incredibly tall and thin woman, with collar bones that stuck out, dark wispy hair that was pulled up into a clip, and stylish Gucci glasses. Jacqueline is a professor of the human sciences and cultural anthropology in Paris, works as a researcher in a privately funded institution, and then teaches Pilates on the side (where she acquired such a trim frame, no doubt). She was quite nice, and extremely informative! There was never a lack of subjects to discuss, and she was very willing to entertain our cultural questions.
So Remi, Jacqueline, mom and I made the voyage--by car--to visit the town of Schupbach which was about an hour or so away. Driving on the European highways and backroads is utterly confusing.... there were countless roundabouts, random stop lights that were practically indecipherable. It makes driving in the US look like a cinch. Regardless, the sharp twists and turns and Remi's start-stop-start-stop driving took it's effect on me... and I became terribly car sick. Mom still labels it as a hang-over from the two glasses of wine I consumed before bed (lol). However, I am almost positive that it was the driving.
We arrived in Schupbach. The village (if you can even call it that) is primarily used for lumber, and included about two stoplights. Before I could blink we had already passed through! So Remi, mom and I had our picture taken by the sign... simply as a novelty! Visiting the town which bore my name was on my list of the top 15 things to do before I was 30. I have done it now!
Next we travelled to Bern, the capital of Switzerland. Unlike most capital cities in the US, Bern does not sport skyscrapers and bumper to bumper traffic. I loved the way Jacqueline put it: There is still just as much money, business, and economic boom in Bern as there is in any US capital--but the Swiss are not flashy about it. It was such a gorgeous town.
We returned to Neuchatel... this time to Jacqueline's flat. As we sat out on the terrace we sampled an Italian juice made from grapefruit. I struggled to finish it, as I found it utterly disgusting, but I did not wish to insult our hostess by leaving leftovers! Blech!
Aaaaanywho, we returned to Remi's where we discussed some composers and piano music (as extensively as we could, with my narrow knowledge of French) and waited for our call to dinner. When Jacqueline arrived with her partner, Christophe, we began walking downtown. As Christophe and I struck up a conversation, I really took a liking to him. In appearance he had a striking resemblance to Bill Weisgarber (lol!) but he was a very interesting man to talk to.
Jacqueline and Christophe insisted we try the fondue, apparently a traditional Swiss dish in which bread is dipped into boiling cheese. Two of my favorite foods: bread and cheese! Miam miam! Christophe was very helpful in instructing us in the ways of eating fondue... as mom and I were completely clueless.
We discussed tourism, Rome, obesity, humanities, and politics. I was interested to know how they felt about the upcoming US election. Being both very liberal people, Jacqueline and Christophe preferred Hillary Clinton (much to my mother's satisfaction). I was also interested to find out that the Swiss are very concerned about the rising level of obesity... in Europe! Yet I have yet to encounter ONE overweight individual. Good Lord. If Jacqueline is an example of average weight then I am MASSIVE compartively.
Apparently there is this tradition with fondue that both my mom and I were unaware of: About halfway through the dinner, the waitor brought out two glasses of what appeared to be water. Nuh-uh. NOT water. Pure alcohol. Christophe instructed us to take a piece of the bread, soak it entirely in the alcohol, and proceed with the fondue as usual. My mom took one bite and nearly passed out from the strength! I must admit it was the most potent thing I have ever experienced. On a funnier side-note, I have my mother convinced that I am a rampant alcoholic when I'm away at school. After two glasses of wine and a few pieces of spiked fondue I wasn't even buzzed. Mom was practically staggering out of the restaurant lol!! Well, at least I will blend in with the Europeans well in that regard!
After indulging in homemade tiramisu (AMAZING), we left the restaurant around 10:30. It had taken us nearly 2 1/2 hours for dinner... that's another thing I love about Europe. Here, you dine together... and dinner is a social outlet. No one is in a hurry. In fact, during our dinner mom asked Jacqueline about what our plans were for the next day. "Aaah, please do not worry about tomorrow. We are here now. Live for the moment!" What a lifestyle :)
Jacqueline explained that she and Christophe have been together for almost thirty years and have even had a child together, but have never gotten married. It was amazing, because as we walked down the road back to Remi's, Christophe had his arm around Jacqueline, giving her intermittent kisses on the forehead and holding her close to him--still--after 30 years. I will never be skeptical of an unmarried couple. They have exuded more love and affection for each other than most married couples I know. It is rare to even find married couples who can attest to 30 years of happiness together... let alone together at all.
Allow me to comment on how absolutely well kempt and finely dressed the Europeans are. I felt frumpy in jean capris, I must say. Honestly though... I swear every man was wearing a Hugo Boss suit or a dress shirt and pants. All the women were wearing heels and skirts. Hair is clean cut and styled. Absolutely NO sweat pants.
Anyway, it is late here... and I must be up early tomorrow to travel to Lucerne and see the Alps :)
All my best,
Laura
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
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
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
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