From A to Z

That Tram Stop is so Sexy

2011-06-10T10:55:00.000-07:00

I hear quite often that the Swiss are reserved, uptight, boring, etc. I find labels rather annoying, not only because I am an American who gets labeled constantly, but even more so now that I am an Expat. I want to be respected as an American and at the same time, I want my new host country to be respected. Since I am always looking for ways to disprove gross generalizations in any form, I have been searching high and low for ways to argue against the stereotype that the Swiss are yawn producing chocolate and cheese makers. And then it hit me...P D A. No, this does not stand for a new gadget or Personal Device that is Awesome. No, it is not short for Please Don't Ask me for the billionth time where the Hauptbahnhof is. It stands for Public Display of Affection and boy do the Swiss like to mug down.

Let's talk about bus love

There is a couple that rides the 7:27 am bus from my neck of the woods to the city every single day. This couple walks to the bus stop holding hands while managing to also gaze into each other's eyes. I have tried walking while looking to my left, and let me tell you...it is hard. I have even tried imagining that Johnny Depp is off to my side and I still can't manage to do it. This amorous couple then boards the bus, takes the same set of seats as every trip before and proceeds to get in the most incredible argument I have ever seen. And then like clockwork, they make up with a make out and then once that is complete, the female component of this dysfunctional display of "WTF did I just witness?" sprays the most hideous perfume onto herself, which makes you wish she instead sprayed the bus full of tear gas. Needless to say, I no longer take the 7:27 bus.

That tram stop is so sexy

Waiting for the tram two weeks ago, I was startled when a couple who was hand in hand, decided to suddenly stop in front of me and make out. At first I was annoyed that my view of the oncoming tram was being obstructed. But then I realized - they were making out in front of me at a tram stop. There is nothing sexy about a tram stop. Tram stops are notorious for having overflowing garbage cans, 13 year old girls in jean stretch pants and at least 5 different people smoking cigarettes. In other words it is unattractive, unattractive and well...unattractive. As they were making out not two feet in front of me, I thought to myself "so this is what young Swiss people in love do when they are waiting for their tram to come". As I was thinking this thought, the tram pulled up and the making out couple stopped making out, turned on their heels and continued walking down the street...

When I touch what other people touch, it makes me HOT

I have described the increase in the amount of times I have gotten sick since moving here. It is quite easy to explain: Public Transportation. There is no getting around the fact that you will touch what some other person has touched. No amount of washing or sterilization will completely protect you. So imagine my surprise when I witnessed a hot and bothered couple on the train, who had both just grasped onto metal poles for support, take each other's faces into their hands and make out. I heaved a little and then watched as they slathered each other with microscopic bits from other people's parts. Hey, I guess when you are Swiss and in love, you gotta do what you gotta do.

I am sure you have seen a pattern here. Transportation makes the Swiss horny. While this may very well be true, I have witnessed many other unsexy occasions or places result in a random make out session. So continue to call the Swiss reserved, but when you call them rigid or stiff...just know what exactly you are explaining and it ain't their demeanor.

Zurich...We Have a Problem

2011-05-13T11:08:00.000-07:00

Wouldn't you want to keep this beauty spit free?

I was issued a "rolley" bag (short for Laptop Trolley, I kid you not) for work in an effort to save my back and shoulders from unnecessary pain. If you don't know what I mean by "rolley" bag, it is a computer bag on wheels, a trolley for your computer, the San Francisco treat of business, I could go on...

As a result of owning said "rolley" bag, I now spend a good deal of my time looking downwards. I do this to avoid things like trash or puddles or anything in the gross or ewwwwwwwcategory. I really want to keep the integrity of the bag...I love my "rolley" bag.

What I learned from my bag love is that Zurich is covered in spit, sputum, phlegm, cough juice, etc. You can literally see me dodging tiny piles of goo on a daily basis because it is everywhere and I am not quite sure why. It could be the insane amount of people who smoke or have allergies. I would think it be common sense to cough up your nasties in a bush or in a trash bin. No such luck I am afraid. So I am left to dodge and weave tiny piles of mucous much like Michael Jordan did, well anyone, in his heyday. If you spot a blondish, brownish, reddish headed woman who looks incredibly intoxicated at 8:00am on a Tuesday morning while dragging a square "rolley" bag, that would be me. (I am uncertain of my hair color these days)

It is a good thing Zurich takes cleanliness to obscene levels. I can vouch for the fact that if there is a pile of spew from New Years Eve, it will be gone in less than 24 hours. Considering places like London rely on their pigeon populations for puke control, we are quite fortunate. Since Zurich has anti-pigeon campaigns, someone or something has to clean up the piles of human expulsions. Even though Zurich keeps the presence of vomit to a minimum, it cannot seem to get a handle on the spit. No street cleaning machine or mere mortal can clean the spit sheen that blankets my fair city. It is like I live in the most beautiful spittoon in the world.

Eat your heart out Jesse James and all the other scary dead cowboys.

Bacon Free Since November

2011-04-10T09:40:00.000-07:00

Actually, you can only click and look inside if you are on Amazon.com.
Thanks for the pic Amazon, you are a pal.

Considering I wrote blogs about the stuff, took pictures of the stuff, daydreamed about the stuff, searched aimlessly in the local Swiss supermarket for the stuff, ate it on a daily basis once I found the stuff...I am sure it comes as quite the shock to you all.

So how did I kick the habit? Did I wear a bacon patch? No, although that does sound strangely delicious. I read a book called "Eating Animals". This book wasn't about kicking obsessive bacon habits, rather it was about factory farming. It explains, in graphic and honest detail, how the meat you consume gets to your plate. I not only stopped eating slices of pure heaven, I stopped eating meat all together.

So the boy and I are vegetarians living in Switzerland. I liken it to being a Mormon who lives in the Vatican City, sometimes lonely and definitely weird. This is a germanic society and many times it seems like there are two food groups - meat and Roesti. Ok, so it really isn't that bad. There are some incredible vegetarian restaurants, plenty of ethnic eateries and many stores that carry a variety of meat substitutes, but the fact of the matter is, only 3% of the population is vegetarian or vegan. This means many people don't understand the lifestyle choice and have asked us some very difficult questions like:

1. Even fish? You don't eat fish? No, that is meat.

2. Do you still wear leather? You do? GOTCHA! No, you didn't get me, rather you just learned that I am not a vegan. Leather products are a product of factory farming for sure and I have tried to find a pleather outlet, but after my search, there were none to be found. I would happily buy pleather shoes if they were available.

3. Do you miss it? Only when I smell a BBQ. I don't dislike meat. Rather I love the taste of the stuff, but I can't shake the imagery and the truth about how meat is produced from my brain.

4. Are you going to try and change my mind. You know, get all crazy PETA-ish on my ass? No, but I will tell you my story if you ask and I may ask that you at the very least get educated about factory farming. It is up to you whether or not you want to change your eating habits after you become educated.

5. Will you ever eat meat again? Maybe. If we know for a fact that the animal being offered had a good life, one without torture. Honestly though, I don't miss it enough to have it even under those circumstances.

I actually welcome the questions, especially if they come from a sincere and genuinely curious place. All I ask is, for every question you ask me, ask yourself a tough question like this one - Do you really know what you are eating?

So Cute that "Cute" Doesn't Cut It

2011-03-28T22:14:00.000-07:00

Just a little diddy from the Serengeti. I think you are looking at the 3rd Cohen brother with my film skills. Think they have room in their family for this rising star?

Oh Deer

2011-03-23T10:37:00.000-07:00

The Boy and I were looking at various hotels in Switzerland for an inpromptu weekend getaway. One particular hotel caught my attention as it had a very liberal animal policy:

This particular hotel doesn't want to lose out on the very important "families with companion deer" demographic. If you don't already know, 100 Kilos is about 220 pounds. This 5 star resort not only allows giant deer, they apologize in advance if you want to bring a deer that is too gargantuan and exceeds their policy. At least the mystery of where Old Saint Nick spends his holidays is solved.

Dolly Parton Has Got Nothing on Me...Except Boobs

2011-03-13T07:30:00.000-07:00

For the past year and a half, whenever anyone asked me how being a Hausfrau was, I would answer: "It is great...I keep really busy". Once I started working again I found out that there is a huge difference between keeping busy and being busy. Now that I have a job, I AM busy. It isn't an option or a choice anymore. The verdict on the new job? I am really enjoying it and I thought I would share with you a few random thoughts on my new life.

1. Hammer time - I have often wondered what dressing professionally would be like. Prior to this new gig, I had two jobs in my professional career and both had no dress code. I could wear jeans and sneakers if I felt like it and often times I felt like it. The mystery is now over. I look good but I don't know if I necessarily feel good. The restrictive panty hose, the getting up at 6 am so I have enough time to style my hair and paint my face, the shoes. Oh the shoes. After 10 hours in a 3 inch heel, looking good never felt so bad. It seems like my lifetime of being flat footed and fancy free has meant that my toes, specifically my left big toe, were ill prepared for the impact of daily high heel shoe wearing. I seem to be on a crash course for a full scale hammer toe. The good news is, we now have a tool to hang pictures up with on our very white, very bare apartment walls. It is too legit, too legit to quit.

2. Too PC - When the Boy and I have our work laptops at home, we have a total of 5 computers. FIVE. We have more computers than a NASA station but that doesn't mean we can do anything amazing. In fact our computers do nothing amazing. Our brand new MacBook aka "Bad Ass Mo Fo" managed to delete our external hard drive in less than 2 seconds. Unfortunately that is the only thing it has managed to do faster than "Old Girl". Old Girl is the PC that prompted the purchase of Bad Ass Mo Fo. She was obviously entering menopause as she had uncontrollable heat flashes that could only be managed by a rather large book that I will never read and a bag of frozen peas. The remaining 3 computers are all work machines, which the Boy and I have nothing against, but we can't use them for anything outside of work.

3. The Swiss like to party. They like to get down - The company I work for is in two buildings, each consisting of 5 floors. On every floor there is a break room and in every break room there is a sparkling clean refrigerator. In each unbelievably clean fridge there is some sort of alcohol. I have seen champagne, wine, beer, wine coolers...you name it, I have seen it. It is not uncommon for people leaving the company to have their going away parties at the office and I have heard other occasions have prompted the popping of a cork or two. This wouldn't fly in most companies in the States for fear some idiot would get way too drunk and do something way horrible resulting in the company getting way sued while the idiot gets off with a slap on the wrist. Call the Swiss boring if you feel the need to (I don't), but don't call them "Too PC"...that name is reserved for me. (If you didn't get that, refer to #2 and be amazed by my brilliance.)

As I said before, the job is going really well. I am learning a ton and getting to know a lot of great people. Most of all, I feel like my life is feeling more normal...well as normal as living in the middle of Europe and down the street from the Lindt Factory can be.

Excuse Me While I Kiss the Sky

2011-03-06T03:32:00.000-08:00

My Story, My Reason...

I looked at the old brown desk for what seemed to be the 100th time. I had to make sure I had everything. Insanity...check, sunscreen...check, rain gear...check, Xanax...check. It seemed everything was accounted for, so I sat down to use the mirror for what would be the last time over the next 7 days. Staring at myself turned out to be no ordinary exercise. I searched, I looked, I cried, I shook. I realized something was missing from my packing list. My reason. My reason for hiking a mountain with "kil a man" as part of its name.

It would have been easy to stare back and tell myself I was doing it for my Father. Deceased since I was 13, I have spent a lot of time trying to devote different things to his memory. It would have been so easy to do it for him too. He always told me I could do anything, be anything...as long as I didn't become a cheerleader. Even he had his limits. But this time, doing something like this for him seemed unfair. Unfair to me.

I recently read a person suggest that this isn't something you do "just to check a box". Did climbing this mountain demand a reason outside of simply checking a box? I respect a person who at least creates boxes to check. Maybe I didn't need a reason after all.

I hiked this mountain with a 70 year old woman whose reflection told her to spread her husband's ashes on the 4th anniversary of his death. She made it.

I hiked this mountain with a man who previously failed to summit. He made it.

I hiked this mountain with a woman whose primary goal in life was to push herself and create new boundaries by stepping outside of old ones. She made it.

Then there was this one woman I hiked with. She lived most of her life from a place of fear. Fear of failure, fear of dying, fear of living, fear of loss, fear of life without chocolate. She always questioned her toughness. It was a constant question mark and at times her reflection looked like the Riddler from Batman. For her, hiking this mountain meant finally proving she was made of sturdy stuff. She hiked every day with a purpose. She found each new day meant more confidence. She enjoyed the natural beauty around her and marveled at the fact that she was not only doing this, but doing it well. Was she ever fearful? Yes, but her toughness never faltered. Not once.

Did she make it? Yes, I made it.

Less is More

2011-01-20T08:21:00.000-08:00

Hi Gang. As you have probably noticed, I have been relatively MIA for the past couple of months. I am not falling into the "blogging is so last year" trap, rather I have some big news to share. Home-girl got a job! Yeah, you read correctly. I am going back into the workforce full-time or 100% any day now. You have to specify your percentage here because it is not unusual, particularly for females and younger folks, to work 40% or 80%.

I am not going to share with you my new company or role as I want to keep the blog and my professional life separate. I do however want to tell you that I will not shirk my blogging responsibilities but I may not be able to write as much. When I do share an adventure, an anecdote or some other thing that begins with an "a", I promise to make it so full of substance that you wished I wrote less earlier.

Wish me luck, no really...WISH ME LUCK. I want 50 comments telling me how awesome I am going to do and that I am going to knock 'em dead. I didn't really mean that less is more. I am American, remember?

Beer and Wine

2011-01-10T08:35:00.000-08:00

A little Vienna Opera action

The Boy and I just returned from a visit to Munich and Vienna. We traveled with the Boy's brother Andrew and his girlfriend Paige, both of whom had never been to Europe before. It was a real treat to see Europe through the eyes of two newbies. Having lived here now for over a year, I have started to take all the oldness and cuteness and cobbly-stoned-ness for granted. They reminded me why I love this place so much and why I chose to uproot my life in Atlanta to move here.

Let's get the painful part out of the way. It was fracking cold outside making even us seasoned travelers want to shed icicle tears and kill fuzzy bunnies. It also made us lazy picture takers even lazier. We took photos, just not a lot of them. The cold weather also made for extended museum stays where it looked like I really appreciated the 500 ways to paint Baby Jesus and his Mom.

If I were to rename both cities, I would call Munich "Beer" and Vienna "Wine". Munich is considered to be the beer capital of the world and is a very laid back, approachable city. It is the kind of city that reminds you of throwing back a cold one as you sit contentedly in a "chair in a bag" chair. It is a city rich in history with every story containing some sort of anecdote about beer. Did you know that beer alone was responsible for preventing the entire city from burning down and even cured thousands of the black plague?

Nothing says "shop like you have money" like exterior chandeliers

Vienna is "Wien" in German, which looks a lot like "Wine" but not the reason why I would rename it so. Compared to Munich, Vienna appears to be a much more refined city. The architecture is more ornate, the streets aren't littered in broken glass and there seemed to be a Prada store on every corner. Additionally, Vienna is known for its wine shops, wine bars and well, good wine. Even so, it isn't pretentious. It is smooth, like a nice glass of Gruener Veltliner.

Is one better than the other? I guess that depends if you are a beer or wine person. Years ago I proclaimed that Vienna was my favorite European city but now I am not so sure. The more I travel, the less I want to have a favorite city. I still love it but I think I prefer it when it is in bloom and a bit warmer. You can dress up cold and grey, but at the end of the day, it is still cold and grey.

Nice Choppers

2010-12-21T01:22:00.000-08:00

Some women have nice boobs. I have nice teeth. Some women receive compliments of "nice rack!". I get "nice incisors!". I have never had a cavity and the only dental procedure I had was the removal of my wisdom teeth. Since the laughing gas only succeeded in putting my legs to sleep, I vowed to never shirk my preventative care responsibilities and risk another painful procedure. This preventative care included a teeth cleaning every six months and I never missed an appointment. Why am I sharing this with you? Last week I had my first cleaning in two years and I feel so ashamed...so dirty.

I am 15 months into my experience abroad, have a rudimentary knowledge of the German language and yet accomplishing simple tasks can still at times seem so hard. Never in a million years would I have waited two years to get my teeth cleaned back in the States. I found my dentist and slightly crazy hygienist through word of mouth. As a result of receiving a recommendation, I knew my experience was going to be a good one.

Here word of mouth isn't a common practice and recommendations for doctors, dentists or dry cleaners that won't rape you of your last rappen, are sometimes difficult to come by. People tend to go to the closest doctor, dentist or clothing chemist. There is also a belief in Swiss culture that there is quality in every good or service therefore you aren't necessarily risking anything by choosing a doctor, dentist or dry cleaner using proximity as your guide. For an American like myself, quality in goods and services varied greatly and if you chose a dentist down the street, you could very well end up with the dentist from Little Shop of Horrors.

So you are probably chomping at the bit to find out of my experience was a good one. It was incredible and not because I am still cavity free, but because I am now officially 1 degree from Roger Federer. My new hygienist cleaned his teeth this year. She was in his mouth!!! Nadal can't even say he has gotten that close to Roger. There is even a good chance I have Roger DNA somewhere on my person. Do you think shining a black light on my body would uncover some Roger DNA? All I need is a good recommendation for a black light. Anyone have one?

I'll Take my Nuts Extra Roasted Please

2010-12-16T08:54:00.000-08:00

Heisse Maroni, aka "Hot Chestnuts", aka "Roasted Chestnuts" have become an obligatory subject on many a Swiss Expat Blog. It is such a polarizing topic because you either love them or hate them. If you are an Expat and actually love them, then you may be accused of being one of those Expats who loves Switzerland so much that they blindly love anything it has to offer.

I had a lot of Heisse Maroni Angst last year because most people I knew who tried them for the first time, hated them. They complained of weird texture and lack of taste. It was because of these common complaints that I decided to pass by the cute wooden houses billowing smoke without offering up a glance, let alone buying a sack.

During the Spring of 2010, I focused my energy on working up the courage to try them as soon as they were available this Fall. I am happy to report that not only did I try a hot sack of roasted chestnuts, I also loved them. Strike that...I am PROUD to report that I loved them. Whoah...that was cathartic. Admitting liking something that may make people gasp in horror has a way of liberating you. And to all you naysayers out there, YES, I love Switzerland but I don't blindly love everything about it here.

I do have to admit, I can see their consistency being an issue for many. They are sort of in between mushy and firm. I also admit that I prefer the ones that have roasted the longest. The extra smoky flavor really pushes the right buttons. If you are like I once was and have "Heisse Maroni Angst", then it likely occupies all of your thoughts. I am afraid the only cure is to try one of these hot nuts. Love them or hate them, at least you can go on living.

The Pizza Resistance

2010-12-09T08:10:00.000-08:00

When I learned the Boy would not be with me for my birthday, my first reaction was self-pity. It was short-lived however as I was determined...DETERMINED...to have a great birthday. Instead of being the solo guest to my pity party, I decided to throw one. Jupiter and Mars must have been aligned because most of my friends could make it and all who attended, much to my upstairs neighbor's dismay, were ready to party with vengeance. It was a great time and I felt pretty loved.

The day after my party, the Boy returned from his business trip and surprised me with a gift that combined the two things I am currently obsessed with - David Sedaris and squirrels:

Squirrels + Sedaris is my Reese's Peanut Butter Cup - Two great tastes that go great together

The following Thursday was my birthday dinner with the Boy and it also happened to be Turkey Day. Turkey Day is hands down my favorite holiday because it involves my favorite things - eating until a button on my "fat pants" ceremoniously pops off with a ping, belly rubs, football, loved ones, more belly rubs and a few cocktails consisting of my friend Barley and my other friend Hops. It came as no surprise that I was a little sad this evening, but I put my game face on and was determined to have fun.

We decided on an Indian restaurant in Old Town and as I was chomping on my Samosa, I got to thinking that I have had one of the best birthdays ever. After I took my last bite of the crispy, deep-fried triangle of goodness, the Boy suddenly blurted out "I haven't been quite honest with you". I just stared back and the first thing that came to my mind was - we didn't have to order the Samosas...that's the great thing about Indian food. They have so many options which really promotes compromise. He then went on to explain that we weren't doing this and weren't doing that the coming weekend. Following his nonsensical explanation as to why were weren't going to the Pfaffikon Casino Saturday night, he dug into my bag (which he so gentlemanly offered to carry from home) and pulled out a booklet.

This my friends was a Booklet of Love. Designed by the Boy, the Booklet of Love detailed a surprise trip to Lyon, France and our train was departing the next morning. My jaw dropped and a little 'mosa fell from my mouth. The booklet was divided into sections with cute little markers detailing different portions of our trip. As I was going through the booklet, I was letting out all sorts of noises and gasps and "awwwws". The kind of "awwwws" that start at one decibel and end at one significantly higher. I am sure the diners around us thought we were getting engaged and then they spotted my crows feet. What could possible top going to Paul Bocuse's restaurant L' Auberge du Pont de Collognes? Homeboy was the grandfather of Nouvelle Cuisine. Then I got to the section marked with music notes and what I saw next didn't quite register at first. I knew I was staring at tickets but it took about 10 seconds before I saw the words "ARCADE FIRE". I subsequently yelled out "OH MY GOD!" and totally started bawling in my Biryani. I was in complete shock and this part of the birthday gift was the Pizza Resistance (or Piece de resistance for you Frenchies out there) to an already amazing two week celebration of ME.

Going to Lyon for the first time was also a great experience in itself. Although we had drab weather, it was great wandering around their old town and walking along the Saone River.

How cute is this freaking Gargoyle? I swear he was flirting with this guy:

Mr. Squirrel was too busy with his nuts to respond to cute Gargoyle's advances. I have a feeling since he has been here since 1684, Mr. Cute Gargoyle has plenty of time to woo Mr. Squirrel.

Um, who doesn't?

The Boy totally outdid himself and unfortunately for him, set the bar pretty high for next year. I am thinking tea with Johnny Depp might be a nice follow up.

Video Didn't Kill This Radio Star

2010-12-03T08:29:00.000-08:00

Guess what? I know what you are thinking...Chicken Butt! Nope, something better than a chicken's butt. I was on the radio last night! So you wanna know why? Chicken Thigh! Sorry, I am so overcome by the emotion of having 3 minutes of radio fame that I am reverting back to my childhood when I thought "chicken parts rhyming with body parts" jokes were funny (um, and still do). Anywho, I was invited to join a show called The Connectors - a weekly radio show focusing on everything Expat and is broadcast from Geneva, Switzerland. I was asked to talk about my blog and why I blog. It was also my golden opportunity to say "evolve" one too many times. Check it out if you have a few minutes to kill.

Zurich - A Sociologist's Wet Dream

2010-12-01T05:28:00.000-08:00

Today has been one of those days where I have felt pushed too far - literally and figuratively. It all started when I boarded the bus this morning. On my bus there are two types of seat designs, seats of four where two seats face two seats and the other design consisting of two seats next to each other. I chose to sit in a group of four seats and sat diagonal from an older woman. The bus started to fill and I moved over to sit directly across from the older woman so I could free up a seat for someone boarding. The older woman didn't budge and literally sat in her seat like she was lounging comfortably in a Lazy Boy recliner. All she was missing was a built in cup holder and a bag of smoked almonds. Her lounging style meant I was scrunched up against the bus window with my feet and legs having little place to go. I looked like a 36 year old fetus. When I gave her the "Really?" look, she just stared straight ahead and gave me the "F You, winner winner chicken dinner" look.

My destination this morning was the gym and once I disembarked the bus, with moderate to severe cramping, I hobbled to the nearest tram stop for the next leg of my trip. My tram had arrived and what happened next happens EVERY time I board a tram in the city. Flocks of older people come from nowhere and storm the door, trying to get on before any passenger has the chance to get off. It is shocking, annoying and funny all at the same time. This morning was no different except this time I was hellbent on getting on when it was my turn. Cue an old lady in a fur coat, which seemed to have come from a grizzly bear, who cut in front of me and saw out of the corner of her eye that I wasn't having any of that. She then proceeded to stick out her elbow. This time I actually said "Are you kidding me?" but she just scurried on the tram without a moment's hesitation.

These two events really ticked me off but they also got me thinking. If I had a gun pointed at my head and was forced to divulge which group of people had the highest "asshole quotient" in Zurich, I would say the older generation. More specifically, women aged 70 and over. Before you start brandishing me as an Ageist, hear me out. I started thinking, why in the world are these older women so rude? Why must they push and shove and cut in line and give you dirty looks when boarding public transportation? Why aren't the Swiss women more of a domineering presence in the international basketball arena? Because these beeyatches can box the hell out.

The Boy and I discussed a few possibilities last weekend. I even posed the "maybe it is because they are the descendants of world wars...they always had to fight for what they had and perhaps it has manifested in their everyday life". But the Swiss have seen little, if any war. I am sure they have seen the effects trickle into their society over the years and there have certainly been times of famine or hardship. All cultures have experienced bad times. Then I saw something on the tram that made this hypothesis null. An elderly woman who was fitted with a cane was having a hard time boarding the tram. A younger woman turned around and smiled at her but proceeded to board the tram in front of her. When I saw her turn around and smile at this incapacitated woman, I thought for sure she was about to give her a helping hand. Instead, it was more important for the younger woman to board the tram vs help this struggling woman. I then witnessed the same older woman get off the tram and again, no one helped her.

Independence is fiercely revered in Switzerland and it is taught at a very young age. While it is adorable to see little 4 year old kids hold hands and go to school without adult supervision, it is more a lesson in self reliance being taught. Swiss independence is something to be admired and yet I can't help but think it comes at the expense of compassion and manners. Perhaps by the time these women have reached their 70's, they are so fiercely independent and so used to not being helped, that they could give a rat's ass if they cut some young whippersnapper in line.

The Boy and I have heard more than once that us Americans rely too heavily on others and that we are "too nice" allowing ourselves to get pushed over. By no means do I think Americans have cornered the market on how to treat people but I do always come away from a visit to the US thinking "God, everyone is SO nice!". For the longest time, I thought a lot of the negative experiences I have had here were the result of not knowing the language but all of the examples above required no conversation at all. I was satisfied with my new hypothesis, the Swiss are fiercely independent...at all costs.

On the bus ride home, as I was patting myself on the back for figuring old Swiss women and the Swiss in general out, I witnessed a young boy and his mother eating lunch. The young boy was eating a banana and a portion of it fell to the ground. I thought to myself, surely this boy will pick up the banana that just fell to the ground...nope. Then I thought, surely his mother will tell him to pick up what he had just dropped...nope...and quit calling me Shirley! Argh, back to the "try to figure the Swiss out" drawing board because not picking up 5 inches of banana has absolutely nothing to do with independence.

Tales from the ATL

2010-11-24T04:53:00.000-08:00

Dirty Old Men on the Plane - I am not a "chatter" and I especially don't like to chat when I am on a plane. I want to sort of sit back, sort of relax, sort of sleep and choke down the awful food they give us peons in coach. On a recent flight from Zurich to Atlanta, I was a bit unlucky.

My neighbor was a 60 year old Swiss man who seemed harmless enough. We spoke for about an hour and a half about our respective trips and families. He became progressively more chatty as he guzzled down 3 "Thirsty Man" sized glasses of wine. Then dinner was served and afterwards I took about a two hour nap. I was tired from all the forced chit-chat.

When I woke up, I noticed his movements were a bit slower and could tell he was drunk. He of course wanted to talk again and introduced me to a brand new Swiss dialect - a mix of German and English words, with a sprinkle of the hiccups and a side of slur. I had to really focus and listen intently as he was speaking Swisserbish so imagine my surprise when he suddenly said the following in perfectly clear English: "Do you want company at your cabin? I am serious, I will borrow my brother's car and join you for a couple of days. I promise I will sleep in the car in your driveway".

At this very moment I wished there were snakes on the plane instead of a dirty old man. I would have happily shared my space with a 20 foot hungry Anaconda vs. a slurring, hiccuping, 60 year old horny toad of a man. As I tried desperately to come up with a reply that didn't consist of a slap, a call button, a shriek, a spew; another 60 something year old man came to the rescue - Captain John "Hannibal" Smith. The movie the "A-Team" had just popped up on the overhead screens and I replied "Um...thanks but no thanks. LOOK! The A-Team is playing! I love me some B.A. Baracus". I turned to the screen, inserted the painful complimentary ear-buds from Delta and was more thankful than you can imagine that an ill-advised remake of the A-Team came to fruition.

Moonshine Mountain - The one place from my old home that sort of reminds me of my new home, is our cabin in Blue Ridge, GA on Moonshine Mountain Road.

Here we sort of have mountains:

And we have low lying cloud cover:

And we have rivers:

And we have beautiful blue skies and lakes and fresh air...SQUIRREL!

Sorry about that. Those little buggers are just so gosh darned cute and whenever I see one, I can't help but stop what I am doing to admire their twitchy tails and over-the-top fear of everything that isn't a nut. OK, back to what Blue Ridge and Switzerland shares in common...wait, what the fudge?

I have seen some pretty awful truck art in my day, with Truck Nutz being the most vile, but this was too much. Then I saw whose truck it was and things became decidedly more clear:

Apparently for Picky Ron there is no separation between God and job. Picky Ron trusts two things to help him cut your lawn: God and a motorcycle-lawnmower contraption. I have to say, as God is my witness, a two wheel motorcycle-lawnmower can trim a pretty tight hedge.

I Need a Guitar Hero - The morning of the big surprise, the one that was going to consist of me jumping out of something, preferably a closet, to scare the crap out of my brother in celebration of his 40th birthday, the whole reason why I was in Atlanta, I found out some bad news. My brother already knew I was in town. It sort of went down like this:

Setting: adorable pre-teen niece enters room. Also in room are my brother and sister-in-law.

Pre-teen niece asks "So where is Kristi sleeping?"

Quick on her feet sister-in-law responds "You mean Chrissy???"

Focused and determined pre-teen niece replies "Noooooo, Kristi!"

Awesome sister-in-law who is getting more desperate by the second answers "You mean CHRISSY???"

Quite stubborn yet still adorable pre-teen niece wails "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO....KRISTI!"

And the jig was up. I remember being a pre-teen and I remember worrying that I may lose my bedroom to a visitor for a couple days. I can't really blame her but I was admittedly disappointed that I couldn't surprise (scare the crap) out of my brother. I needed a little pick me up...I needed a Guitar Hero.

My brother gets a little obsessed with video games and his newest obsession during my visit was with Guitar Hero. Watching my 40 year old brother play a plastic guitar with plastic buttons, while bobbing his head and smacking his lips, was the perfect pick-me-up. He really believed he was playing the guitar and he really believed he was a hero. At that moment in time he was also my hero. He was proof that even though we get older every single day, you can act progressively younger to compensate for it. Who needs Botox when you have Guitar Hero?

The Poo Bandit

2010-11-17T02:43:00.000-08:00

Whatever this animal is eating is also beyond fiber

The exterior of our apartment building is being terrorized. We are under siege by a berry eating animal which has seriously upped its daily fiber intake. If you have ever upped your fiber intake, then you are well aware of its consequences. At first it was evident that the berries were a new addition to this animal's diet. It was benign enough and appeared to only be a passing occurrence. As of yesterday evening, it just got personal and this animal just got more regular.

Technically we aren't allowed to take Pedro and Dooley to the apartment grounds to do their bidness. After a late night run-in at a nearby park with some teenager hopped up on something (maybe the same berries the poo bandit eats), our adherence to this rule abruptly changed. Last night as I opened the main door to our apartment building to let the Dudes out, I noticed Dooley slowed down and started sniffing. I then caught a whiff of something unpleasant. I looked down and noticed to the left of the door was a pile of poo. On its own, seeing a pile of poo just outside your apartment's main entrance is shocking. There was something even more sinister about it though: what the neighbors must think.

Why do I care what the neighbors think about a random pile of poo? Well, we are the ONLY people in the building with dogs. They have probably all witnessed Dooley at some point smell his own pee after he peed and they have certainly witnessed Dooley dart over to Pedro to smell his pee after he peed. He sort of reminds you of the kid that eats the Playdough after sculpting it into some sort of hot mess. Wouldn't it be logical then for them to assume my Playdough eating child is capable of pooing by the door?

More unsettling than that thought is what they must think of us. Are we the type of owners that allow our dogs to poo by doors? Are we the type of owners who don't pick up the poo that is pooed by the door? I had to take matters into my own hands...literally. I don't particularly like picking up my own dog's poo, but they are my kids and I do it almost happily. The thought of cleaning up a random animal's poo was horrifying but the consequence of not picking it up was even more horrifying. I bet the animal responsible sat in some berry bush snickering as I did the deed and probably thinks it owns me. If I ever catch this animal in the act, we will have words.

After the clean up, I returned to my apartment and slid down the living room wall ending in the fetal position. I cried a little and second guessed my actions. If a neighbor sees the poo was cleaned up, is that a greater admission of Dooley or Pedro's guilt? How do I break free of these poo chains? Then Dooley ambled over to me and planted a big wet one on my salty cheek. It was then that I decided that I only knew one thing for certain - the Poo Bandit will most certainly strike again and I will continue to protect my, the Boy's and the Dude's good names.

Schmolitics

2010-11-04T03:17:00.000-07:00

I first want to preface what I am about to say with the following: I want the United States to succeed and I am proud to be an American.

The Boy and I have been relatively unexposed to the political shenanigans that have been going down during the Mid-term elections. We get most of our news from The Daily Show which is somewhat informative but frustrating at the same time. I am of the opinion that Jon Stewart likes to hear himself talk and is incapable of framing and asking a question in under 30 seconds. This leaves the viewer knowing little more about the guest and subject matter after the interview ends. Because Jon Stewart fancies himself an intellectual, it is hard to discern if the show is still a "fake" news program or a real one.

Even with its negative aspects, The Daily Show has made us privy to tea parties and witches and Kanye West's take on the state of the union. It is enough for me to realize that I do NOT miss American politics. I feel fortunate that I am not barraged by the media or drawn into heated debates with friends. I suppose I should care, but I am comfortably removed from the situation and I got to say, I like it. I know that things are really rough right now for my fellow compatriots but I am so removed physically and emotionally that it is hard to truly sympathize. I liken it to the "out of sight, out of mind" phenomenon that many relationships experience and isn't the link between man and country essentially a relationship?

So after I admitted to myself that I was comfortable with my ambivalence, I had to ask myself: Am I bad American? Then I thought about vacations. People take vacations from their kids, their work, their "real lives". If people can enjoy a hiatus from children that they love and jobs that they need to survive economically, does that make them bad people? Of course it doesn't.

While you are on vacation, someone is caring for your kids and filling in for you at work. I am trusting my fellow compatriots to do the same while I am gone...

The Passport Photo - Avoid Irreversible Damage to your Psyche

2010-10-31T05:03:00.000-07:00

Last August while preparing for our move to Zurich, the Boy and I had passport photos taken after our friend Art of Geneva suggested they may be cheaper than having them taken in Switzerland. We needed photos for our visas before our departure anyhow and we knew additional photos would come in handy after our arrival, so we each had 4 taken. We were about to start the adventure of our lives and we were pretty geeked up, so we both decided it would be a good idea to smile in our photos. The results were quite epic as we resembled the grandparents from Weird Science.

A few days before our planned departure, we had to pick up our temporary visas from the Swiss Embassy in Atlanta. We had all of the proper documentation and the last thing they asked for were our photos. We handed them over in the same celebratory fashion that a catholic priest issues communion. As the Swiss Window Lady took our photos, the Boy and I shared a knowing glance which went sort of like this: "we just blew her mind with our photos...yeah we did...eye high-five!". Then suddenly our secret eye conversation was interrupted with the following:

Swiss Window Lady Who Makes Decisions with People's Lives: "Um, these won't work"

Remicks: "Wait...whuh?"

Swiss Window Lady who Crushes Souls: "Nope, you are smiling in these pictures. You can't smile or show teeth"

Remicks: "What do you mean?"

Swiss Window Lady who Spits Souls Out after Crushing them: "What do you mean "What do you mean?""

Remicks: "So these won't work?"

Swiss Window Lady then stood silent, pausing to mull over what she does for a living. She can't fathom answering the same questions, from one more dumbfounded American, over insane photo rules, for one more minute. She contemplates whipping out the gun made of chocolate she keeps in a drawer under her desk and shoving it in her mouth in an act of protest, but then comes back down to earth and responds: "No, you must have photos without smiles or teeth. Those are the rules. Sorry. Please come back with the correct photos or we cannot process your visa"

We left knowing what we had to do. Find the closest UPS Store to take the frowniest, non-toothiest photo ever:

Eat your heart out Randy and Evi Quaid. We look more extraditable than you.

The UPS Store Lady handed them over while wincing. She probably expected us to either ask for a re-shoot or demand all the money in the store. The Boy and I exclaimed "Perfect! We look horrible and terrifying...great work UPS Store Lady". We all high-fived and then high-tailed it back to the embassy.

At this point, we had taken 8 smiley photos and 8 horrifying photos. This set us back just under $50 but we figured "meh...it has to be double in Switzerland". The horrifying photos were sufficiently horrifying for the Swiss Window Lady and a few days later we had our temporary visas. Not only that, we each had 3 horrifying photos leftover for our residence cards, transportation cards and drivers licenses. We were set!

We landed in Zurich on August 19th, 2009. It was 90 degrees outside and we had been on a plane for 10+ hours. As a result we looked utterly disgraceful but we were in our new home which gave us energy for the day ahead. Our relocation agent was to take us to get our residence paperwork processed which required horrifying passport photos. We were so confident in their horribleness that what happened next was almost too much to bare:

Swiss Desk Lady: "I need 2 photos please"

Remicks: "You need two horrifying photos?"

Swiss Desk Lady: "Yes, two"

Remicks: "Ok...check these bad boys out!"

Swiss Desk Lady: "These won't work"

Remicks: "What do you mean these won't work?"

Swiss Desk Lady: "What do you mean "What do you mean?""

Remicks: "But we aren't smiling...look, no teeth! Oh and we look absolutely horrifying. That's good, right?"

Swiss Desk Lady then points to the wall behind us. On the wall is a guide detailing photo rules and upon first glance, it looked like a physics equation. From your head to the top of the photo must be 5mm of space. There appeared to be a margin of error of 1mm. Our horrifying photos had no space between our heads and the top of the photos therefore they didn't meet the most basic of the many photo rules.

In addition to the spacing rules, there were rules such as these:

1. Do NOT raise the roof in your photo

2. Do NOT wear any hats, specifically your "Thirst Aid Beer Can Hat"

3. While a non-smiling photo of yourself will certainly look horrifying, please do not go out of your way to look menacing

4. Vampires are strictly forbidden from entering Switzerland

Our relocation agent proceeded to take us to the nearest train station to take new photos. At the station were special photo kiosks designed to take photos that met Swiss photo guidelines and for 8 Francs, you received four. Three trips for passport photos and approximately $70 later, we learned the following:

1. Passport or ID photos are cheaper in Switzerland than the US, about 4:1.

2. You cannot smile or show teeth in your photo.

3. The Swiss are really afraid of Vampires.

4. Your hair must be away from your face in your photo.

5. There must be 5mm of space between your head and the top of the photo.

If you are reading this and thinking about moving to Switzerland, hopefully I saved you some mental anguish. I remember snapping my 24 passport photos as if it were yesterday and hope I prevented the same thing from happening to you.

Moving to Switzerland and need to save money so you can afford a kajillion passport photos? Getting a Swiss Calling Card is a great place to start.

8 Is NOT Enough

2010-10-28T08:37:00.000-07:00

I know, I appear to be obsessed with the fact that I am a child of the 80's, but I am strangely proud of my generation's music and television. When the Boy and I celebrated our 8th wedding anniversary, we shared a toast where he proudly and cutely declared that "8 years isn't enough". If you don't know the television show "8 Is Enough", then A. You don't get his toast B. You are sadly unaware of the Bradfords, a family consisting of 8 children that brought feathered hair to a whole new level and C. You aren't privy to the magic of 1980's TV and its impact on my marriage.

In celebration of our anniversary, the Boy took the day off from work and I took the day off from being, well...me. We hopped a train for Lugano, a city located in Switzerland's Italian region of Ticino. We figured it had to be warmer than Zurich (which it was) and it had to have better pizza than Zurich (which it did). It even had these donut thingies stuffed with marinara and mozzarella cheese. I forget the name of the donut thingies but I am pretty sure it ended in a "la" and made me go "mmmm...donuts with cheese".

We strolled the shores of Lake Lugano and allowed the sun to blind us with its science:

After sufficiently burning our retinas while taking the photos above, we decided to further test our love by hiking the Monte San Salvatore - a 2,992 foot mountain located to the right of Lugano facing away from town. The hike was pretty brutal for us both but more intense for the Boy since he was carrying his laptop and 10 pounds of German homework in his backpack. It was worth a little pain to see the following views:

We were pretty limited with our time and didn't do a proper job of touring the city itself. Not only is 8 years not enough for the Boy and I, 1 day wasn't enough for Lugano. We will be back you little Italian nugget of pretty!

Hang 10 DUDES - Surfing the Eisbach

2010-10-21T10:43:00.000-07:00

Going to Oktoberfest reminded me of being at a convention - I was in a different city, there for a specific reason, and had little time to do much else than what I was there specifically for. With the free time we did have while in Munich, the Boy and I checked out the Englischer Garten. It is Munich's main green space and to give you an idea of how large it is, it is bigger than NYC's Central Park. How bout them big apples...

Gardens are great for ambling about and we ambled. After we got bored ambling, we decided to find the famous surfer dudes who surf a standing wave located on the Eisbach river - a man-made river that runs through the garden and feeds the Isar River. If you aren't familiar with a "standing wave", it is a wave that remains in a constant position. What was particularly freaky about this "standing wave" is how it was created. Underneath the water appears to be giant cement steps. The varying heights of the steps and the fact they never move, results in a wave that remains constant and the perfect setting for mini-surfing. Mini-surfing on standing waves with cement a few feet underneath makes for quite the dangerous hobby. If you have a hankering to try this out, just know that there is a sign which states "only experienced surfers are allowed to surf here". This is obviously an adequate preventative measure for dumbassery.

Can anyone spot Owen Wilson's stunt double? Guy on the far left looks like he should be guarding a castle tower circa 1461.

This guy was talented. As he surfed, he also made dog hand animals for all the children looking on. I thought that was a lovely gesture and he was quite the crowd pleaser.

I call this photo "I Pray For You All and Hope I can Get this Chick's Number because Praying is Hot"

"Oh shit, I think I left the iron on..."

I know you all want to see the real deal so here is a video of these crazy peeps. These guys were totally rad, wicked, dope and any other word used to describe people who like to cheat death for the fun of it:

In Heaven There is No Beer...

2010-10-15T07:01:00.000-07:00

That's why we drink it here...

"Here" being the Hofbrau Haus Tent in Munich

and when we're gone from here...

all our friends will be drinking all our beer...

We can't have that!

Ein Prosit, Ein Prosit...der Gemuetlichkeit! Ein Prosit, Ein Proooosit, der Gemuetlichkeit...

Ein, Zwei, Drei, Peas and Carrots...zigga zagga zigga zagga OYE OYE OYE!

Why thank you Mr. Wall

My Grandfather taught me three things:

1. The above drinking song
2. A passion for cured meats
3. Alligators live in basements (even in Western New York where they aren't indigenous)

Our recent trip to Oktoberfest fulfilled a lifelong dream of mine to sing this song with 10,000+ drunk people, all of which appreciate and celebrate it as much as I do. For me, it symbolizes a family tradition and while at first glance it may have seemed irresponsible of my Grandfather to teach his Grandchildren a beer song before they could walk in a straight line, it was one of the few traditions we had...and I loved it. Little did we know that learning to sing it while walking in an infant-like diagonal was childhood imitating adulthood.

Minus the insane crowds, the grabby guys and piles of spew, Oktoberfest was the biggest and baddest (bad as in good) party I have ever been to.

Amsterdam - 7ish Years Later

2010-10-12T09:53:00.000-07:00

My first trip to Europe was in March of 2003 and included the cities of Bar-tha-lona, Paris and Amsterdam. I was a rookie traveler and relied upon the rumors that Amsterdam was nothing more than a drug paradise with crappy food. This of course begged the question "what the hell do people do there when they get the munchies?".

I quickly learned that Amsterdam was much more than what it is infamously known for and upon my return home, I promised myself to never rely upon rumors and to always do my due diligence when planning a trip. When I learned the Boy and I would return, I was curious to find out what a 30 something year old's perspective would be in comparison to a 20 something year old's. As you will see, age and a shift in one's priorities can influence an experience.

Amsterdam's Beauty

20 something's perspective: Wow, Amsterdam is pretty...hiccup...oh look, a coffee shop we haven't tried yet.

30 something's perspective: Wow, I think I could live here. It is quite possibly the most beautiful city I have been to in Europe, especially at night. Then a gust of wind not only interrupts that thought, but also my desire to live there. Think of standard European weather with the addition of gale force winds.

Amsterdam's Bike Culture

20 something's perspective: How do they ride their bikes here when they are high?

30 something's perspective: How do they ride their bikes here when they are sober? (I LOVE how bikes are so prevalent in Amsterdam but I have to admit that it looks like a scary place to ride one...but I am a wimp, so there.)

Amsterdam's Museum and Art Scene

20 something's perspective: The Anne Frank House is the most amazing museum ever.

30 something's perspective: The Anne Frank House is the most amazing museum ever.

20 something's perspective: Wow...there are lots of museums filled with Dutch art that makes me want to stab myself. Let's go get high.

30 something's perspective: Let's try something a bit more modern and light this time. There are only so many Dutch self portraits with black backgrounds I can take (they also wore a lot of black clothing back in the 15th Century, making everything seem, well...even more black).

Our 30 something's need for some art circa 1980 paid off as the Boy's and my name will forever be inscribed on the wall of Amsterdam's newly refurbished Stedelijk Modern Art Museum. Can you pick out our names? Can you guess how the locations were picked?

Amsterdam's Food

20 something's perspective: I heard the food sucks in Amsterdam, therefore it must suck. Minus accidentally finding an amazing vegetarian cafe, it did suck.

30 something's perspective: There has GOT to be good food in Amsterdam. Let's do a little research and ask around, shall we? The Boy found a great food blog called Dutch Grub and it was spot on for all of its recommendations. In addition we asked our friend Deb for suggestions as she just returned from a trip in May. The food we had was outstanding and Amsterdam has either improved their food scene, or it always existed and I was too lazy to discover it back in 2003. I was a little bummed that I no longer smoked the Pot because the munchies would have been conquered on this trip by the likes of this nugget:

What you are seeing is NOT a pizza. Again, this is NOT pizza! This is a dutch pancake with inlaid bacon and covered in syrup. I about died and went to heaven after this tasty treat. I still dream about it in fact.

So I am not going to compare the 20 something and 30 something perspectives on coffee shops. The Boy and I were lame this time around. Nothing high-larious to report. I love Amsterdam and look forward to another visit from yet another perspective.

Just Plain Nasty

2010-10-05T09:57:00.000-07:00

I had every intention of blogging about our recent travels to The Netherlands or the insanity also known as Oktoberfest in Munich. I got derailed from writing about the fun stuff because I have that all too familiar sore throat and heaviness in my nasal cavity. People, I am getting sick and you want to know freaking why? Because the coughing season has commenced in this town. Everywhere you go someone is coughing up God knows what and the whole city is taking on an ominous fluorescent green glow from all the bacteria and viruses floating about. There are different types of "coughers" and I thought I would list them for your reading displeasure:

1. The Hack - This implies that this cougher is an underachiever. Quite the contrary I am afraid. This is the person who coughs 365 days a year due to a nicotine habit that would make Joe Camel blush and Philip Morris want to sue themselves. While you can hear this person bruise a lung any day of the year, they still add to the total amount of coughing that you must listen to during the coughing season and make you wish you packed a gas mask.

2. The "How Are You Even Alive?" - And secondly, why aren't you home in bed? This person is dressed professionally and maybe even put on a little make-up, but no amount of make-up or polyester will hide the fact that they are infected. I sort of get it...I have felt "calling in sick" guilt and once upon a time I had deadlines to make too. Think about logically though. If you come into work and make others sick, you end up costing the company more in the long run. Stay at home. You aren't that important.

3. The No Hand in Sight - I hate this guy. This is the person that doesn't even bother covering their mouth. They look capable enough - no noticeable muscle atrophy or lack of coordination in their upper torso. They just don't bother which makes you want to meet their parents so you can run them over with a car for not teaching them basic manners. Well, at least it makes me want to run their parents over with a car.

Using public transportation makes coughing or any type of expulsion from the body so much more noticeable and disconcerting. It wasn't as if our former home of Atlanta was cough-free. We commuted in our own little car wombs - protected from other people's saliva bits.

When someone coughs on the bus, tram or train, you can see the Boy scurry opposite of where the cough originated, as if it were somehow more sanitary. It is self preservation in its most organic form and I could picture a Discovery special documenting it: Watch as the Boy turns his head in disgust. A cough was just expelled by a competing organism. He turns, mutters something indiscernible and retreats to the other side of the bus compartment. This is nature in its purest form...cut to a Tide commercial.

Englishforum.ch - Fact or Fiction?

2010-09-28T08:06:00.000-07:00

If you troll the internet, you will likely find trolls. That is what I learned anyway after discovering englishforum.ch. There is no doubt that this forum contains a vast wealth of information for the soon to be or current expat living in Switzerland. Unfortunately it also contains a lot of useless banter by unbelievably bored people and opinions tainted with vitriol. The vitriol is usually directed towards the Swiss themselves. The Swiss are this, the Swiss are that, the Swiss don't do this or the Swiss do too much of that. Just a little over a year ago I came over to Switzerland, with knocking knees, expecting the worst because a small group of people decided it was better to be locked up in their apartments talking about the Swiss vs actually living in Switzerland.

After meeting a friend for coffee today, we brought up this forum and discussed it briefly. It is almost a rite of passage for a person moving to Switzerland to find this forum and read it to death. After a chortle over this phenomenon, we both admitted that we occasionally still use it but only for fact finding missions. Many people post their lessons learned so you don't have to make the same expat mistakes they did. In a new country, simple things are no longer simple and this forum contains thousands of great tips including how to recycle Swiss style, which stores are open on Sunday and where you can find a decent Gynecologist. You can also find people selling entire apartments full of IKEA furniture for Rappen (no, not little rap songs...Swiss change) and someone to watch your pet. There is absolutely no doubt it brings value but it can also suck you into a vortex of off-the-wall opinions and subjects not fit for public consumption.

The Vitriol Example

19.09.2010, 10:20
expat_in_zug
Senior Member
Join Date: Mar 2008
Location: Thalwil, ZH
Posts: 384
Groaned at 46 Times in 23 Posts
Thanked 54 Times in 32 Posts
Re: Aussies survive in Switzerland??
Dude! Your Gf left you! WTF. People here are riciculously uptight. I am going back to N America. You have to make an appointment with your friends weeks in advance to see them! And... get this! When you bring wine over when you are invited for dinner... they put the wine away and then serve you the cheap wine! This has happened to me on several occasions! WTF! Just ead the stuff here about bosses throwing temper tantrums, or whatever. This place is for little children. they move into the floor upstairs from their parents! How often do you want to hang out with grandma? Every day? And gossip over some silly news? This place is like a prison man! break free!

Go back to OZ where people are fun and spontaneous!

I am going to call this guy "Crazy Town". Crazy Town's most "riciculous" statements are highlighted in red. Most notable of the "riciculous" is the statement that people in Switzerland do not pour the wine you gave to them that evening as a gift. This is somehow a flaw of the Swiss. What I wish I could tell Crazy Town is that I rarely ever pour wine I receive as a gift the day it is given to me. I save it for another day as I already purchased wine for that evening. That is what people do when they have guests over for dinner...they buy things in advance. And finally, can you really trust someone who uses the acronym "WTF" more than once? I certainly hope you can't.

The "Holy Crap you have WAY too much free time to be writing this" Examples (oh, there are many)

Zurich goldcoast: Man blown up in toilet. ( 1 2)

Treverus

Yesterday 23:57
by cheesey

943

It isn't that I have that much against the post itself. I love a good "man blows himself up in a toilet" story like the next gal. What I find amazing is it has received 943 views. That means 943 people viewed this vs taking a walk outside or meeting a colleague for coffee. Frightening.

How much does a 5franc sized tattoo costs? ( 1 2 3)

Evita is here

Yesterday 22:51
by Ittigen

1,074

Notice that this person's screen name is "Evita is here". I really wish she wasn't.

I am currently studying french, but I'd like to settle in Zurich part. haha ( 1 2)

Evita is here

15.09.2010 21:22
by Evita is here

352

Evita strikes again with a post ending in "haha" when there wasn't anything particularly funny to "haha" over. I really hate the misuse of "haha".

damn you hair follicles - how can you do this to me ( 1 2)

OBone

10.09.2010 23:40
by OBone

576

Wait...what?

What to have for Dinner? ( 1 2)

transatlantic

31.08.2010 15:19
by transatlantic

561

You are helpless

big ugly spider in my room ( 1 2 3)

farhaneee

07.09.2010 09:45
by 22 yards

1,856

You are hopeless

The Robot Apocalypse is closer than you think ( 1 2 3 4 5 ... Last Page)

sharkey

25.09.2010 19:00
by Gastro Gnome

133

1,517

And you should be steralized

If you use englishforum.ch, my only advice to you is go there with a purpose, find what you are looking for and then get the hell out of dodge.

Moving to Switzerland? What you may not know is that it can take a little while to get a cell phone. While you are waiting, get a Swiss Calling Card so you can stay connected.

Ste. Traffic...err, I Mean Ste. Tropez

2010-09-21T03:17:00.000-07:00

Hey Gang! I know I have been pretty MIA lately but the Boy and I have been doing some traveling. Our first jaunt was with friends to Ste. Maxime and Ste. Tropez, both located in the South of France's Cote d'Azur region. Of the two towns, we chose to stay in Ste. Maxime because of its close proximity to Ste. Tropez's world famous beaches (approximately 7 km away) and wallet friendlier accommodations. We elected to rent a car as our mode of transportation because:

A. We had the Mutts with us.

B. The only way to get to Ste. Tropez's beaches from Ste. Maxime is by car and while there is a ferry between the two towns, the beaches are located a few kilometers from the dock.

C. There is no train station in Ste. Tropez or Ste. Maxime making public transportation without expensive taxi rides or local car rental impossible.

The decision to rent a car was further strengthened when considering the following pros - increased flexibility, money savings and the ability to explore other towns within the region. Unfortunately, renting a car in Europe has some major pitfalls and there was no way for us to know that driving the 7 km between the two towns would be over an hour each way. Yes, you read correctly - EACH WAY.

If you do the math, this means you spend almost just as much time in a car as you do on the beach. When I think of a beach vacation, I think of being lazy. I think of being relaxed. I think of no matter how hard I try, I will not get tan. I do not think "hmmm...it is a beautiful day, the ocean is azure as the region's name suggests. Screw it, I would rather be in a car for 2 hours". Being trapped in a car, on a two lane road, the only road we could take to the beaches, is akin to Chinese water torture or eating Cream of Wheat everyday for breakfast - repetitive and horrifying.

So the Boy and I do what we always do when confronted with a situation we cannot control - freak out a little bit and then come up with a solution. That solution was to stay in Ste. Maxime and enjoy what this little town had to offer. It was a lively village with beaches in walking distance. The beaches had families from Paris instead of people who tried desperately to look like Paris Hilton. We could now be lazy, relax and not get tan on our own terms. I know what you are thinking - "words, words, words Kristi...let's see some pics!". OK, here you go:

Me and the Boy

Here you see the Boy paying homage to his military past by standing incredibly straight. This picture was snapped overlooking a bay in Nice while en route to Monaco. The only positive thing I can say about Monaco is that I saw it and can check it off my list.

Here we are relaxing in our villa exhibiting what you might consider to be a deeper shade of pale.

The Muttleys

This photo was taken in the town of Gassin, which just so happens to be what Pedro and Dooley do best. My dogs smell and they smell bad.

The Muttleys standing in front of a kick ass chapel located on the grounds of the Minuty Vineyard. Cote d'Azur is located in Provence, which is famous for its rose wines and Minuty was one of the best we tried.

Windows

Doors

Totally French

Totally Cool

There were frustrating moments during the trip but I can honestly say we had a great time with good friends, amazing weather and zero sun damage.

In Switzerland we Trust

2010-09-10T07:02:00.000-07:00

The Swiss are known for many things and like any country that is awarded certain stereotypes, some are nice and some are not so nice. I have chosen to highlight one that is not only positive, but one that truly endears me to my new home - Trust.

I was out walking the doggies when I spotted this rad piece of machinery. Cars typically don't do it for me but this one made me rush home for the camera. Yeah, it is a cool old car but what really made me rush home was the evidence it was a participant in the Peking to Paris Transcontinental Road Race. The Boy and I once watched a show on these crazy peeps who take their really old vintage cars, that break down in really shady places, to race between Peking, China and Paris, France. It is a really cool event so I felt pretty fortunate to have seen a participant's car up close and personal.

After the initial shock wore off that I just spotted a really cool car in a really random place, I busied myself with a photo shoot making sure to capture all the car's angles. I felt sort of strange taking pictures of a person's car when they weren't around. Not quite as strange as the time I was snapping photos of kid's scooters at the local school but strange nonetheless. I thought nothing of the fact that engine door was wide open as I was more consumed with the car's leather belt. I don't even own a leather belt. As I was thinking to myself that I needed to buy a leather belt because a friggin car had one and I didn't, something new caught my eye and it was far more incredible than spotting the belt or Peking to Paris sticker.

Now who in their right mind would leave their keys in their really old, really vintage, really rad, really pimp ride unattended? A Swiss person...that's who. These people are trusting. This just wouldn't be done in Atlanta, at least not on purpose or without the need to call a locksmith. Living in Switzerland transports me back to my childhood days where we used screen doors in the Summer and we kept them UNLOCKED. As an adult, I would have never left my screen door unlocked in Atlanta and I certainly wouldn't have left my keys in my really old, really vintage, really rad, really pimp ride.

I am not suggesting Switzerland doesn't have crime. What I am suggesting is the trust people have for each other and their surroundings is refreshing. It makes me feel like June Cleaver just gave me a big old hug. Of course there is more to it than it being cultural. Atlanta has a much wider gap between the rich and the poor thus being a prime target for crime. There isn't a whole lot of poverty here or the need or an individual to take another's property. I suppose I could do a much lengthier essay on Switzerland's low poverty level and its effect on crime, but I am satisfied feeling like I no longer have to look over my shoulder. No wonder I always had a stiff neck in Atlanta.

This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, a community linking Expats and soon to be Expats. I know a lot of my readers are thinking about becoming Expats. So when you are doing your pre-move visit, be sure to call Mom and tell her how it is going.

I am THAT Dog Owner

2010-09-08T08:28:00.000-07:00

I was just minding my own business last week, running a bunch of errands which happened to include some clothes shopping. While walking about, I casually eyed what was being displayed in the different store windows. Something special caught my eye that day as I glanced over at the H&M and I had to go in.

Rarely, if ever, do I step inside an H&M. It isn't because I am a clothing snob and as we have discussed before, this is the first year I was brave enough to put my jeans inside my boots. It is because H&M gives me cartoon spiral eyes from the mind-numbing combination of fluorescent light, mobs of people, clothing strewn about and lines for fitting rooms 30 people deep. (Fitting rooms that also manage to collect the most amazing dust bunnies. They are so amazing that you leave looking like you just rolled around in a barn)

So WHAT was it that could have been so amazing that I HAD to go in? Well, I saw a doggy in the window and I had to save it from H&M:

That's right. I bought a Boston Terrier shirt and I became THAT dog owner. The type of dog owner that makes you wonder if they have a life outside of their dog. Well I can assure you that I do have a life outside of my doggies and I knew when I bought the shirt that it carried a certain amount of risk (in the form of scorn, both public and private). I had to have it though and I proudly wore it last Friday night in public. The beauty of not knowing Swiss German is I had no idea if people were making fun of me.

Feel free to mock me but not for the awesome pursed lips pose or for my ca. 1980's bathroom. Those two things are off limits.

Crouching Kristi, Techno Dragon

2010-09-03T09:42:00.000-07:00

Street Parade is a day dedicated to techno music (I suppose even techno deserves a day), over-doing the substance of your choice and people watching. The Boy and I rallied a group of friends together, some excited and some not so much, to take in the spectacle:

For reasons I can't explain, I decided it was in my best interest to crouch next to the Queen of Hearts during this photo. As if her boobs weren't enough to distract the viewer from me, I decided to make myself look even more non-essential with the crouch.

The Boy and I thought putting things on top of our heads constituted a costume and we went with a Good vs Evil theme. Yeah, we are C-R-A-Z-Y:

I had never seen angel wings and a halo incorporated into one headpiece. I HAD to have it...although looking at this picture I sort of resemble a strange creature from the movie Pans Labyrinth and well, so does the Boy. Frank really seemed to like David's headband though:

And that's all that matters...

Street Parade was incredibly fun and since I have learned to drown out the train that runs through my backyard, I can proudly say I was able to drown out the techno when it was necessary. I do have to admit however I did do a little dancing towards the end of the day...it wasn't the music that inspired me, rather the Heinekens. The folks who weren't excited about the day ended up having a blast and we are all looking forward to next year. We promised each other that a better effort will be made towards our costume design and some of us girls pinky swore that we would get on the main techno stage to dance like idiots. Here is more crouching:

and here are the techno dragons:

I Know One Thing for Certain

2010-08-30T09:38:00.000-07:00

And that is you are likely much warmer than me today. Today it is 52 degrees and raining. I had to hide the butter knives and vodka for fear I might do something crazy. It is August and my two middle toes froze while running errands. The whole city seems to be pissed off as I spotted several staring contests between strangers on the tram today. Let's just say no one looked away and no one won.

The lack of heat wouldn't be so debilitating had I not just returned from the south of France where I was treated to 90 degree, low humidity weather. Yeah, I am rubbing it in but I know you are all secretly relishing the fact that you are warmer than me today...much, much warmer.

On another note, you can catch me over on ACC today talking about straitjackets and stuff.

365 Days Later - The Interview (Cue Dramatic Music)

2010-08-19T04:46:00.000-07:00

This picture says it all...albeit incorrectly, but it is true nonetheless.

People, today marks my one year anniversary of living in Zurich, Switzerland. In honor of this momentous occasion, I have decided to bring you some hard hitting journalism. I am going to interview myself. The negotiations were a bit tense at times but after several sessions of talking to myself (sometimes in public), I finally worked something out with me. The questions below are ones I would have liked to have seen answers to before moving to Zurich so consider yourself "about to be informed":

(fumbling with microphone...tap, tap, CRASH, F*$%#CK!)

Me: Kristi, such an honor to meet you. I guess what they say about blogs adding 10 pounds is true. You look so much more amazing in real life.

Kristi: You are too, too kind.

Me: No really, you are quite spectacular.

Kristi: You are making me blush...can we get on with this? I have lunch with Federer.

Me: In your dreams.

Kristi: Yeah...I did see Hingis once though...(trailing off)

Me: (clearing throat) So, what were your first impressions of Zurich?

Kristi: Well, I had never been to Zurich before so I really wasn't sure what to expect. I had done the typical "research something to death" thing so I thought I had an idea of what it would be like. No research could have prepared me for how pretty it is here. Not only is the city on a lake, you can see the Alps in the distance. It is truly mind blowing...even to this day.

Me: I get it, you are happy with how Zurich looks...but how does it FEEL?

Kristi: Not to be overly simplistic, but it feels "good". I feel more and more comfortable here everyday. I love how city life mingles so easily with nature, I feel safe, the people are polite and helpful...I could see myself here a while.

Me: What have been some of the challenges adjusting to life in Zurich?

Kristi: Well, there have been several. First and foremost is the language barrier. While I am learning High German, the people here speak Swiss German, which for all intensive purposes is a completely different language. I miss being able to communicate with ease and labels on products continue to give me fits. In addition to the language barrier, this Hausfrau gig was hard to get used to at first. Turns out a lot of my self worth was buried in my career. It was really tough getting used to being unemployed and I was truly surprised at how difficult it was to embrace it as a gift. I call it a gift because how many people get this chance to not work and do other things that interest them? Finally, Europe in general is expensive. I yearn for the day I am not calculating what something costs in American dollars. I am sick and tired of almost fainting in the meat section. At least there would be cold pork chop there to quickly ice any injuries if I ever do physically crash down to the ground.

Me: Wow, sounds like it is tough to adjust.

Kristi: Well anything new is going to be tough to adjust to at first. Don't let that dissuade you from moving to a new country. That would be lamer than a Friends reunion show. I now judge my life in terms of how often I go outside of my comfort zone vs how long I stay in it.

Me: How have you dealt with the challenges you mention above?

Kristi: Well after I briefly felt sorry for myself, I attacked them. I have taken and continue to take High German and while it is not Swiss German, I feel like I am at least making an effort to integrate. I stay busy everyday with writing, doing a little work for my old company, doing my Hausfrau chores and spending time with the Muttleys. As for the mind blowing cost of living here, I just remind myself of basic economics: people get paid a crap load of money here so the cost of goods naturally goes up. Then I laugh, shake my head and mutter "nope, that didn't work...its fracking expensive here".

Me: If you had one tip for a future or existing Expat, what would it be?

Kristi: I would say to that lucky individual that attitude is EVERYTHING. If you move to a new country scared, well then you are going to be scared. If you move to a new country sad, well then you will be sad. If you move to a new country ready to embrace it, well then you will likely have a positive and rewarding experience. I used to think home was where the heart was but now I think home is a state of mind. Make your attitude your own too...be careful who you listen to and what you read, be strong enough to form your OWN opinions.

Me: Is it hard to meet people?

Kristi: It is only as hard as you make it. Zurich is an international city where 30% of people are Expats. That means 1/3 of people here are likely just as motivated as you to meet people. Then you have access to co-workers, people you meet through clubs and neighbors. If you aren't meeting people, then you really aren't trying hard enough...sorry, hate to get all "tough love", but it's true.

Me: What has been the best part of your Expat experience?

Kristi: There are so many "best parts" and it so hard to have just one. Piggybacking off of what we just discussed...it would be all the amazing people I have met while over here. I have met people from all over the world and it is so great to learn about other cultures and their perspectives on Expat life and life in general. Being able to hop a train to Italy or France doesn't suck either.

Me: So Kristi, what is really like to be an Expat?

Kristi: Good question, uh...Kristi. This is a tough one to answer but I will give it a try. Moving to a new country, the idea of it, is exciting and romantic. When you arrive, it is pretty exciting and romantic, but then you have to get on with life. Life in a different country presents unique challenges AND opportunities. Woven into both is a plethora of intense emotions...for the first time in a long time, I feel pretty alive.

Me: Whoa, that last part was intense. Did you mean that?

Kristi: Yes I did. I used to live to be comfortable, now I live to test myself. I want to be 90 and look back on my life confident that I actually lived it. Does that mean someone who doesn't do this isn't living? No...it is up to each individual to decide what living means to them.

Me: Dude...you're deep.

Kristi: Hell yeah I am.

Me: Is there anything else you want to share with your readers?

Kristi: Sure. The Boy and I are truly happy. This experience has been exhilarating and we aren't ready to get off the ride. We don't know where we will be in 10 years, but for now...we love being in Zurich.

Me: Well Kristi, this interview has also been quite the ride. Thanks for sharing and good luck with your second year.

Kristi: Thanks...great interview by the way. You give Charlie Rose a run for his money.

If any questions weren't covered in this interview that you would like to ask and get answered, feel free to send them to: fromatlantatozurich@gmail.com.

This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, a community linking Expats and soon to be Expats. I know a lot of my readers are thinking about becoming Expats. So when you are doing your pre-move visit, be sure to call Mom and tell her how it is going.

Hiking - Swiss Style

2010-08-17T09:28:00.000-07:00

You may or may not have heard by now, but the Boy and I are hiking Mt. Kilimanjaro this February. The Boy decided we should shake things up a bit on our second trip to Africa and figured hiking the highest freestanding mountain in the world fit the bill. I agreed enthusiastically but since I am geographically challenged, I only knew it was some bad ass mountain in Africa. You know a mountain is bad ass when its name contains "kil" which is one "l" short of "kill"...which implies death...and come to find out, you can actually die on this mountain due to its altitude. My initial enthusiasm thus became tempered with some good old fashioned "Kristi Anxiety Over Death" or KAOD for short, which sounds like "K-O'd", which means knocked out...making it the perfect acronym.

In preparation for the hike of our lives (I am going with "lives" instead of "deaths" here because I want to remain positive), we decided it was time to go on some real hikes. The kind that involve hiking poles, snow and a few terror induced tears (ahem...by yours truly). Coincidentally a few months back I was introduced to my Dad's cousin who just so happens to summer in the Arosa Valley region of Switzerland. We arranged a meeting in Zurich and quickly hit it off. She proceeded to invite me and the Boy to their home in St. Peter and voila! Our first training session was planned, fit with seasoned hikers who just so happened to be family.

So I really wasn't sure what to expect and since our hosts were the pros, I left the planning up to them. After a 20 minute drive from St. Peter to Arosa, we took a trail alongside a river bed that gently went upwards. "Gently" gradually became steeper and soon a snow covered ridge came into view. This was the ridge we were going to hike up and then hike down. Due to rainfall from the previous week, this portion of our hike was completely snow covered...in August. AUGUST! This made finding the trail markers a challenge, but a fun, semi-nerve wracking one nonetheless.

We did have a secret weapon: Gretel, the super hiking dog who somehow knew which part of the ridge to go up. We never failed to find the markers, even if half of them were snow covered or difficult to see. The Boy and I were taught hiking techniques on the fly and as I climbed higher and higher, my confidence began to soar. When we reached the top of the ridge, I went to check out the trail down. The down part is the one that always gets my adrenaline going. It is the part that is synonymous with death and typically reduces me to a puddle of nerves and mutterings of "WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND DOES THIS?".

Expecting to find a trail and then not finding any distinct semblance of one, the confidence that soared while going up, quickly made a long fart noise and exited my body. I was with family and the Boy though, who promised to stick with me while I moved at a snail's pace. I had to use my hiking poles in more unconventional ways, along with my hands, all the while side stepping slippery, muddy scree and snow. Scree is an "m" short of what I wanted to do the first 10 minutes of our descent. With a little bit of patience, a lot of side stepping, a sprinkle of terror induced tears and a lot of love from the Boy, I made it down the really scary part.

There were so many rewarding moments that outweighed the terror. I conquered an intense fear of going down a mountain with no discernible trail, I realized I can do Kili because apparently the hike is less intense than this one and I formed new bonds with family. Here are some more pics from the day and as you can see, Switzerland is pretty ugly:

Pretty part of mountain with a pretty lake and a pretty reflection

A little Edelweiss which is a rare find

And guess what!

COW BUTT!

Is Zurich Boring?

2010-08-12T08:31:00.000-07:00

Stereotypes and labels can be pretty damaging but there are typically grains of truth from which they sprout. Whilst living in Zurich, I have heard quite a few and one in particular really yanks my crank: Zurich is boring. I suppose it makes me angry because it implies that I am boring because frankly, I love boring Zurich. I think the majority of my anger though comes from the opinion that it simply isn't true.

Exhibit A:

Boring cities do not allow you to park your bike in 8 foot hedges. This took major talent.

Exhibit B:

Boring cities don't let you park your bike in the local river. Not so much talent involved with this parking job, just a bike and a dream.

Exhibit C:

Boring cities don't have sections of town where it is completely legal to paint graffiti on the sides of buildings. It is pretty trippy to see people spray-painting their hip hop machinations during the daytime.

And finally, boring cities are not host to the world's second largest techno music festival where you can find over a million half naked people dancing to music that the untrained ear would claim "all sounds the same". Street Parade even has an annual motto, my favorite of which being "Today is Tomorrow"...and while I vehemently disagree that today is tomorrow, I love how the event organizers attempt to make dancing to consistent beats in the streets of Zurich somehow cerebral. The only thing truly cerebral about this day is the music may lead to a Grand Mal seizure.

So have I convinced you that Zurich isn't boring? No? Well then how about Zurich's incredible access to all things nature, clean water, clean everything, low crime rates, incredible public transportation, sheer beauty...??? Does that help change your mind? Wait a minute, I just described a "livable city". I suppose places you can see yourself living long term get stuck with the "boring" tag, but I will take boring, old, livable Zurich over someplace frenetic any day of the week.

I know what it is like to be done with a place but I am super careful to never disparage it because I feel it would detract from the experience I had while there and furthermore, it would only serve to offend the people I love who still live there. While I was out-growing Atlanta, the idea of Zurich grew on me but I never once felt inclined to diminish what Atlanta had to offer. It didn't seem fair to admonish a city that introduced me to my husband and really good BBQ. So if you aren't happy with a place, feel free to have those feelings but just be careful to choose your words wisely when expressing them.

Zurich is not fast paced, the "scene" won't blow your mind and you won't have random celebrity encounters (unless you consider spotting Martina Hingis in a bar with her boyfriend, both donning matching jeans with the same rhinestone detail on the back pockets, a celebrity sighting). What you will get though is a good life and for me, that is about as exciting as it gets.

This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, a community linking Expats and soon to be Expats. I know a lot of my readers travel, so check out how you can get cheap calling cards overseas,which means one less thing to worry about while you are busy sipping on a Pina Colada.

Orange - Not Just a Cool Color

2010-08-09T02:16:00.000-07:00

Last night the Boy and I dragged our tired, battered, sunburned butts* to Orange Cinema Night. Located in Zurichhorn Park, a nightly movie is shown on the big screen between July 15th and August 15th. The setting is stunning - the screen literally sits in lake, which is lit with twinkling lights, casting their reflections off the water's surface. The semi-comfortable seats only give you minor tingling by hour 2 and if you look really close, you can spot bats flying in front of the screen. Hey, wildlife sightings are hard to come by here so this excited me.

We heard and read so many good things about this experience which I have to say were pretty spot on. Because I want your experience to be a good one, here are a few tips should you decide to check it out for yourself:

1. Get your tickets early and get there early- Reserved seating is difficult to get as most of the seats are reserved for local sponsors and their lucky recipients. We purchased our tickets too late and ended up with "freie sitzwahl" tickets which are "first come, first serve" tickets (aka "poop out of luck" tickets). Our seats weren't bad but we were limited to the left side, front section or the really left side, front section. Since there aren't many first come, first serve seats available, arrive early so you can get a decent seat.

2. You can BYOB or BYOF - Our bags weren't checked so if you want to save some coin, bring your own booze or food. If you don't want to bring your own B or F, there are food and drink vendors on location.

3. Don't forget to get your free ice cream - OK, so it isn't exactly "free"...you are spending at least 20 chf per person for these tickets, but your ticket does include a free ice cream. You can't miss it, just look for the massive blob of people who aren't forming any semblance of a line.

4. Pack rain gear and a blankie - The show goes on rain or shine and cancellations only occur in the event of a storm. I got a little bit chilly last night so I was glad I packed my fleece jacket.

This is a "must do" if you live in Zurich so check it out...next year though since it is likely sold out for the Summer.

* "sunburned butts" is a figure of speech. Our butts weren't sunburned, rather our necks, faces and forearms. Our burned forearm area is particularly cool as we now look like we have Wonder Woman arm bands tattooed on our skin. If only I had kept my Wonder Woman Underoos...I would then have the perfect costume for the Zurich Street Parade this weekend. Oh yeah, I had these growing up.

The Swiss Squirrel

2010-08-05T03:26:00.000-07:00

In the 11 months I have lived in Switzerland, I have yet to spot a squirrel. I have been told they exist and one person was even kind enough to describe one to me: small little creatures, with big ears and shy. In the States we call that a mouse. The Boy swears he has spotted two - one black and one brown, but until I see one for myself, the Swiss squirrel is the equivalent of Big Foot - folklore and only to be seen after one too many drinks or after a severe blow to the head.

There is a small animal here that does remind me of the squirrel though. It shares many of the same traits:

1. Annoying

2. Everywhere

3. Doesn't move when approached

Friends, may I present to you...THE SLUG:

EEEK! When it rains in the summer, these bad boys are everywhere. Walking on the sidewalk is like navigating a minefield of gelatinous-like turds as they like to come out of their grassy dens to hang around on something concrete (sort of like the teenagers who constantly loiter in the front of the BP). If you do inadvertently step on one, they turn into something that resembles a loogie coughed up by a person with Emphysema...in other words - pretty nasty.

They can get quite large and when they do, they often resemble my dog Pedro's poopy and/or a king sized Tootsie Roll. Their life appears to be rather sad, lonely and short as they are never in pairs and when the sun comes out, they shrivel up like a vampire. Unlike the squirrel, they don't dart into traffic (um...they don't dart ever) and they appear to be a seasonal visitor.

For some unknown reason, my "normal" includes the daily presence of an annoying animal so for that, I couldn't be happier to share the sidewalk with the SLUG. (insert scary Vincent Price Thriller laugh here - and don't ask me why)

I Left my Stomach in Atlanta

2010-08-02T02:34:00.000-07:00

I only wish I could have left my hips there too...oh well, such is life, ho-hum, long exhale while staring out a window. Two days ago I returned 10 pounds heavier from Atlanta and while it is no secret that I missed friends and family, I was shocked to learn just how much I missed good, cheap, no frills FOOD. Eating my way through the ATL was one of the highlights of our first return trip and I can still taste the greasy goodness from our two amazing burger experiences. You would think a good burger is easy to come by in 21st Century Europe...think again.

So let me stage the Zurich food scene: picture sausage, veal in a mushroom cream sauce (which they call Zurich Art), fried potatoes and melted cheese. Then pan over to the bathroom that your run to after your 5th slice of Raclette. While slices of melted cheese are tasty and all, no boiled potato, gherkin or pickled onion will enable your body to process it effectively. I actually like all of the German influenced cuisine I listed above but I can only do so much of it before I start daydreaming about the Thai or Indian food from Atlanta which causes me to weep happy tears. Zurich does have a decent amount of ethnic eateries but I have yet to come across one that makes me cry like a teenage girl who just saw Justin Bieber flick his weird ass bowl cut. His bowl cut is as mind blowing as watching a toilet flush in the southern hemisphere for the first time, backwards and freaky. In all fairness to Zurich, we have found good places to eat for all budgets, although I use the word "budget" loosely. I am so fair that I even posted some restaurant recommendations over on ACC so I could feel less guilty about bashing Zurich's food scene.

Five Guys Goodness

Oh Atlanta, you little food minx...the first night we were there, you showered us with burger kisses. Our friends Kevin and Sus were kind enough to take us to Holeman & Finch, famous for its 10pm burger. They only make 24 of the these lovelies and we got there at 8pm in order to reserve ours. At 10pm sharp, a procession of servers delivered the sizzling burgers to the 24 lucky souls who got there early enough to stake claim to theirs. Unfortunately, my stomach has become a bit atrophied over the past 11 months and couldn't handle the entire burger, but the Boy came through and finished the half I could not. Two days later we went round two with a burger from Five Guys Burgers and this time, I finished the whole thing. It was a taste sensation. More taste sensations in Atlanta included the Chicken 65 from my favorite Indian Restaurant Zyka, the Banh Mi from Littles in Cabbagetown, over 10 plates of awesomeness from my brother's restaurant INC Street Food and of course the honey bacon from Sun in My Belly (although it did end up causing a storm in my belly an hour later).

In stark contrast, Zurich is a classic underachiever. It has all the potential in the world with unbelievable access to amazing produce and meats but fails to deliver with over-priced, average fair. I still haven't figured out why this is the case but I hope with the increasing flow of us Ausslanders into this great country, we will at least get to a place where we have over-priced, awesome food.

This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, a community linking Expats and soon to be Expats. I know a lot of my readers travel, so check out how you can get cheap calling cards overseas,which means one less thing to worry about while you are busy sipping on a Pina Colada.

Thoughts on Nakedness

2010-07-20T06:44:00.001-07:00

It is common knowledge that Europeans embrace nudity. We aren't talking nudity in fine art or on TV, but their own nakedness. Switzerland is no exception as the Swiss too embrace their boobies, pee-pees and other parts that us Americans deem not fit for sunshine or public consumption.

I had my first taste (or beer funnel full) of this when I began going to the gym. I wouldn't classify myself as a prude but I don't parade around with my clothes off. The women's locker-room is like a giant bearded lady convention and we aren't talking the facial kind. Women are putting their make-up on fully nude, blow drying their hair fully nude, yelling at me fully nude and can be found just standing there celebrating their nudeness.

In addition to the in your face nudity at the gym, I have witnessed several men and women putting their bathing suits on at the lake. The logic escapes me as to why this is better than putting them on at home. I have never thought myself "damn I would have much rather put this on in front of everyone else. People need to see my jibbly jobblies...maybe next time". Perhaps there is logic to it though, of which I am more than happy and open to hearing.

In addition to the fine examples above, it is also common practice for male and female work colleagues to meet for a steam while everyone is fully nude. I know...I just blew your mind. Gives a whole new meaning to "Um Ralph...I need your briefs today by 5pm...no really, I need them...OFF that is. Today is our nude team building event which is being held at the steam bath. Be there or be fully clothed!"

The thing is Americans, myself included, are all sorts of jammed up when it comes to nudity. Some argue our shame and embarrassment comes from our Puritan past and religious roots. If you go anywhere in Europe, there are churches on every corner and 5 kajillion paintings of baby Jesus (who by the way is always nude). So if it is religion making us Americans modest, then why haven't these same religious threads sewn themselves into the European psyche? It seems in Europe, thoughts on religion and nudity are mutually exclusive.

I admire the European attitude towards the human body. Only in America can you have a show named "Sex and the City" where the main character never once flashes a boob. We get more skin at half time shows featuring "Miss Jackson if you're nasty". Which by the way us Americans still hear about over here as I have met several Europeans who still bring up the big deal we made about Janet's stray boob.

I can't say I am completely comfortable with nakedness and I would draw the line at being side by side with my co-worker's ding dong. I do however think us Americans could lighten up about it and not view nudity with such "hand over mouth" reactions.

What are your thoughts on nakedness? Do you think Americans overreact or do you think the Europeans need to reign in the janglies?

Saying Goodbye...

2010-07-15T07:48:00.000-07:00

Smush faced friendships were made too...

...in one word SUCKS. Yesterday I had the displeasure of saying goodbye to the very first friend I made here as they are moving back to their home in the States. In fact, our friendship started before I left Atlanta. She was one of the bloggers I found (stalked) online and helped (humored me) while I was researching (obsessing) over our move to Zurich (Zurich). The very first week we moved here, she and her husband were kind enough to host us at their home for dinner where conversation, food and booze flowed effortlessly. In addition, they too had a dog with a face that looked like it was hit by a 2 x 4, which meant we had more in common than just our new address.

Whether it is saying goodbye to old friends like we did in Atlanta or new friends like we have here in Zurich, I can't get used to it. It is the dark side of Expat life and since I am the type of person who emotionally invests in my relationships, it hurts. It won't scare me away from developing friendships here because as much as it hurts to say goodbye to our new friends, it would hurt more to live in a strange country without any. It is calculated emotional risk if you will.

I have been thinking about the short term friendships and subsequent goodbyes that we will surely experience time and time again here. Are they less profound than longer term friendships we had back home? Will they last? How close can you really get to people when you live in a temporary world? Unfortunately the answers are up to each individual but for me, most of the people I have met live in the same temporary world and as a result, we will always have a bond. Us Expats are sort of like war veterans...our lives are full of beauty and horror where we either fail or prevail...but at the end of it all, we did it together and nothing will ever change that fact.

I am confident that the friends we said and will say goodbye to will be the kind we see in 50 years, where it will seem like no time has passed since our last meeting. Sure a lot will have changed, hair might be grayer, bellies might be plumper and we will have a lot more lines on our faces (hopefully mostly laugh lines), but we will always remember our time spent together in Zurich and we will always be Expats.

This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.ne t, a community linking Expats and soon to be Expats. In addition to being a great source of Expat information, they offer affordable calling cards, keeping you connected.

Zurich Puts the "Fest" in Festival

2010-07-12T00:47:00.000-07:00

The 4th of July is one of my favorite holidays and I was curious to see how I was going to handle missing it this year. Zurich came to the rescue by holding a weekend long festival full of the following:

1. Meat on sticks

2. Massive fireworks displays

3. Booze

4. Over 3 ferris wheels scattered around the city

5. Sweaty, horny teenage boys drinking tall boy beers

6. A Snoop Dogg concert

7. Hot weather (making the porta-potty experience even more enjoyable)

8. Air shows

Zuri Fascht happens once every 3 years. I asked a few Swiss folks if there was a reason for it and I got a shrug of the shoulders each time with this response "nope...just an excuse to celebrate Zurich in the summertime". Sometimes the best festivals don't need a reason and this weekend turned into one of my favorites spent here.

The city scape was dotted with rides and tents selling chachkies, meat on sticks and booze.

This diving show was just one of the many interesting events held during the festival.

Um...me want boat with slide. WANT!

By far my favorite part of the weekend were the airshows...yes plural. I have never experienced one before and to see fighter jets whiz past my balcony over the lake was surreal. Friday night at 5pm was the first encounter I had with these jets. I had a towel on my head and thought Switzerland was under siege for the first time in its history. I proceeded to go outside onto my balcony with towel on head to watch the show. As I was staring at these jets whizzing by, I was overcome by the emotion of living here and I got a little choked up. Much to my chagrin, my neighbors were also on their balcony being blown away by the fact that I would cry, with a towel on my head, while watching planes. I held my head up high and proudly announced "Hi there...um, bad hair day".

Feet

2010-07-09T01:26:00.000-07:00

Ok...if that title doesn't get you curious, I am not sure what will. Today you can find me blogging over on ACC where I talk about Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz and my feet. I guess you will just need to read it in order to understand the connection between the two.

Do You Have the Fever?

2010-07-05T09:10:00.000-07:00

For the flavor of Pringles? Well...no, although last weekend I did somehow manage to bury my head inside a 4 inch cylinder of every one's favorite potato crisp. Admittedly not one of my prouder moments.

For Justin Bieber? Um...no again. Who is he and why is he famous? He does have good hair which does mean he is far more talented than half of Hollywood.

For the World Cup? Ding Ding Ding....BINGO....Ole ole ole ole ole!

I have been really digging this Fussball thing. I must confess that I didn't know much about it before the World Cup began and I still can't spot this whole offsides thing even though it has been explained to me ad nauseum. I love how the world is watching and I love the funny faces you see during the slow motion instant replay. Best of all, I love how it seems to have invaded the American arena and spirit. I was a very proud American during our short run and felt our team not only performed well, but didn't possess that primadonna thing that certain other teams possessed (ahem...Argentina...cough).

Above is further proof that:

A. I learned something in 7th Grade Home Economics Class

B. I am still a very proud American and will always be

C. That patriotism sometimes outshines bad taste...oh yeah, I wore this...in public. To the USA vs UK game Y'ALL!

It wasn't just about feeling patriotic though. I loved seeing everyone out watching their teams, celebrating and the palpable excitement that these games produce. In my opinion this is way more fun than the Olympics and almost rivals my favorite time of year - March Madness.

My hope is the US truly embraces the sport and tunes in more than every 4 years. Hey peeps back home, can you work on this for me while I am gone? Anywho, here is a little video action of the excitement after a Germany goal against Argentina. I have a feeling that the Germany birth rate may go up slightly this year:

Got SAD?

2010-06-29T23:37:00.000-07:00

The place I was almost committed to two weeks ago during a particularly rainy and cold June day. The good news is that it is located in our neighborhood so the Boy could have visited me quite easily.

Seasonal Affective Disorder - aka SAD - A mood disorder in which people who have normal mental health throughout most of the year experience depressive symptoms in the winter or, less frequently, in the summer (or SPRING but we will get to that in a moment).

Kristi's Definition of SAD - Weather, regardless of the season, that makes you want to punch the cute and cuddly Sesame Street puppet Elmo. Not that his voice doesn't wear on you after a while.

How SAD came to be, on rainy day 101 years ago, in a cold, dank Mental Health office:

"Hey Chuck, we really need a mood disorder with the acronym SAD or people will start to think we are too serious. We really need to spice up the mental health industry and play with our words more"

"Not now Felix. This torrential rain really has me down in the dumps and I am not motivated to do anything. Eating chocolate has even become a chore."

Chuck then proceeds to yell "Eureka!".

I always thought SAD was hooey. I survived my first Zurich winter with flying colors, only one hysterical outburst of crying without a reason, further proving my theory that it was some bored mental health professional's stab at mental health acronym humor. I was prepared though, mentally and physically, for the challenges of winter's weather.

Then it was time for spring and I expected clear skies, sun, warmer temps and the smell that comes with a thawing ground. It didn't happen. It seemed Zurich was under an angry cloud for 3 months straight and this time, I wasn't prepared. I did OK for two of the three months but when it became June and it was still raining, still 50 degrees, well then the crying spells and fist pumping at the sky commenced in full force. I got SAD. So much so that my spring jacket was about to become a straight jacket.

When you are dealt a blow as an Expat, like really crappy weather, how you choose to deal with it will determine your success. I tend to overreact a bit more here than I would in my former home because I have a heightened sense of "What if I fail, does that mean I am not a good Expat? Does that mean I suck at this change thing?". I realize my shortcomings, corroborated by my Swiss Vet who gives me a free mental health session every time I bring my dogs in: "Kristi, du bist zu Nervos. Calm the hell down...it isn't good for the dogs".

The crying spells turned into motivation. I finished my resume, booked meetings with friends, went to the gym more and you know what happened? SUMMER:

This is no Simon and Garfunkel bridge. This one is over happy water.

Dust off your epi-pens. The flowers and bees are out in full force.

It is hot enough now so Dooley stops every 5 minutes to do this.

The kids are now riding their scooters to school instead of swimming there.

The funny thing is, now that it is hot as all get out, the complaining about the cold, wet weather has turned into complaining about the hot weather. Satisfaction is NOT a human trait. I am happy though and willing to be uncomfortably hot if that means summer is here to stay for a while.

This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, a community linking Expats and soon to be Expats. In addition to being a great source of Expat information, they offer affordable calling cards, keeping you connected.

It's the Same but Different

2010-06-16T01:11:00.000-07:00

What defines a culture and makes it unique? If you look at human beings organically, you can conclude we all do the same basic things and have the same basic needs - we sleep, eat, work, procreate, celebrate, idolize, love etc. I am convinced what makes a culture unique is doing these same things either a little bit or a lotta bit differently. Don't worry, I am not going to get all anthropological or philosophical today. Quite the contrary. While comparing the US of A to Switzerland isn't as big of a stretch as say comparing the US to the indigenous peoples of Komi Siberia, there are still differences. I have lovingly handpicked a few to share with you and there isn't always a clear winner as to who does what better. That is for you to decide and experience yourself:

1. Crosswalk Behavior - I chose this because I almost came to a premature end one too many times in Atlanta. Crosswalks in Atlanta exist but I think drivers think they are just sections of yellow or white painted gravel - modern art that you can drive over and not obey. In Switzerland they take these striped sections of roads very seriously. On more than one occasion I have witnessed cars from 10 feet away screech to a halt if I am even near the crosswalk entrance. They very well could have been screeching to a halt due to my "Hausfrau Native Wear", which most haven't seen outside of the confines of a Swiss apartment, but regardless of the reason, I will take not being murdered while crossing a road. While a lot of Expats complain about the rules and red tape here, myself included and deservedly so sometimes, this is one rule the Swiss and I wholeheartedly embrace. I like being able to cross the road and get to the other side.

2. Kids Walking without Adults - We are talking little kids. Kids who are like 4 years old little. I have seen one too many "Amber Alerts" in my days back in the States. If I ever become a Mother, I may very well become that Mother who keeps their kids on a leash. While I think a safe and trusting society is wonderful, it is so different from what I am used to and I am not sure I could naturally embrace letting my toddler walk alone somewhere. We had dinner with another American couple a week ago and they said parents are frowned upon if they walk their toddlers to school. The Swiss mindset is to prepare kids as early as possible for adulthood by teaching them independence at an early age. I marvel at it and especially love the groups of little kids by themselves, holding hands while walking to school.

3. Cashier Register Loot - In the States, you can't pass through a cash register without being bombarded by magazines talking about the latest - YAWN - Hollywood breakup or five different flavors of Chapstick. It didn't annoy me, rather it gave me something to look at while waiting in line. Here I don't see as much loot, but it exists. Sometimes though the loot is different and I will never forget one particular instance while waiting in line in the COOP City. I saw several different shapes which included hearts and ovals, all with cardboard backers. My first thought was "Why are they trying to sell cookie cutters in the shampoo section of COOP?". Then it clicked...they weren't cookie cutters, rather women's nether region cut-outs to assist and aid you in the art of female grooming. My eyes widened that day like a cartoon character being strangled. If you need a more detailed description, feel free to email me.

4. Resume Etiquette - If you wish to create a Swiss Resume or Swiss CV, you are encouraged to include the following: a picture of yourself, your age, marital status and hobbies. If you are applying to a multinational company, you likely do not have to include these things however if you are applying to a Swiss company, it is recommended you do so. In the US I was a manager and at times had to interview folks for positions. If I got a resume with a photo, I cackled, showed it to co-workers who cackled with me and then chucked it in the recycling bin.

Ok, ok, ok...so these aren't scientific examples and one could say they aren't even relevant when discussing the differences between cultures. I could talk about the height of beds here or the fact you have to bring your own light fixtures when you move in and take the old ones when you move out, but I don't want you head down on your desk, soaking in a puddle of drool while reading this.

If you live or have lived in a different country, what sticks out as being different compared to your former home?

This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, a community linking Expats and soon to be Expats. In addition to being a great source of Expat information, they offer affordable calling cards, keeping you connected.

Hearing Cinque Terre

2010-06-11T06:20:00.000-07:00

I have been MIA from blogging lately but I have a good reason. My com-POO-ter has been giving me fits lately, shutting down without warning, making it virtually impossible to write a post. The Boy used his IT magic and now I am back in bidness. You were probably thinking my absence was due to the fact I couldn't come up with anything you could hear in Cinque Terre. Au contraire mon frere.

In this first video, not only will you hear me rocking my German at the end, you will hear some pretty pffffft-tastic cat sounds. Oh and before you start thinking David and I talk to each other in German, think again - David and I speaking to each other in German would be like the mute talking to the mute. There was a German tour group watching the cat action with us and I wanted impress them. They were so impressed that they proceeded to ignore us and carry on their way. So with out further hubba-ba-loo, here is your first sound of Cinque Terre:

Anyone else notice one cat was white and the other was black? I bet God and the Devil get all bored and come to earth, battling out in other forms...just for kicks.

So I am sure you are unsettled by all the cat screams so let's relax. Let's do a little visualization, shall we? Picture yourself on a narrow trail set high above the sapphire blue Mediterranean. Above and below you are rows of grapevines. A butterfly landed on your shoulder and a ladybug is dancing on your nose. Then you hear this:

What the holy hell? There was Dance Club Italia going on in the middle of our hike. We are talking the middle of nowhere. My hypothesis is the locals were blowing off some steam after dealing with all of the Rick Steves Zombies. Nothing like a little YMCA to rejuvenate you.

So the Cinque Terre series has come to an end. Africa taught me to travel with all 5 of my senses so I was anxious to see if I could duplicate the experience in Cinque Terre. My experiment proved that you can do more than just see and eat your way through a place. Hopefully I have inspired you to see, taste, smell, touch and hear the hell out of your next trip.

Touched by Cinque Terre

2010-05-31T06:17:00.000-07:00

Just some of the thousands of steps we touched during our trip to Cinque Terre. What you don't realize is this is actually someone's daily commute.

I know what you are thinking. How in the world am I supposed to incorporate "touch" into my series on Cinque Terre and the 5 senses? Do Kristi and the Boy go places, aimlessly touching stuff? Do they come away from a trip thinking "hot damn...that ocean was wetter than the last ocean we visited. In fact that last one was just sort of damp".

While we do inadvertently touch stuff on vacation, we don't go out of our way to. I am willing to bet a traveler rarely thinks about what their body touches, except for all of the germs from other travelers they come into contact with (who seem to cough and sneeze a lot more in small, enclosed spaces - I swear sometimes it feels like public transportation is a scene out of "Night of the Living Dead"). So if we weren't actively touching stuff, where in the heck am I going with this?

We were touched by Cinque Terre. Did I just open up a can of metaphor on your ass or what? When we went to Africa last year, it taught us that travel is so much more than what you see and eat. It is also about people, different cultures and connecting to them while in their land. While in Africa, we went to see animals and came away meeting the most amazing, sincere and gentle people. I can only speak for myself, but now whenever I travel somewhere, I try to find a connection with people whether it be a local or another fellow traveler because isn't that what life is all about? Why limit connecting to others to just our daily lives?

In Cinque Terre, we met many people because a lot of English was being spoken. I think both the Boy and I were excited to be able to produce small talk so we struck up conversations here and there. Most were of the friendly sort, barely leaving an imprint on my brain. We did however meet two women from Australia on our train ride from Milan to Monterosso. We talked for 3 hours straight and had a lovely time. We left wishing them well with the hopes we would bump into each other again during the course of our short stay. We were staying in different towns and there was a good chance we wouldn't run into them.

It just so happened we did bump into them one night at a restaurant in the town of Vernazza where the Boy and I were staying. They proceeded to invite us to their table for dinner where we were introduced to the daughter of one of the women and the daughter's friend. At the end of the evening, the connection was so genuine that they invited us to their apartment later in the week for dinner, drinks and sunsets.

Another day, while in the harbor of Vernazza enjoying one of our many gelatos, a group of Italian school kids, ages 9 or 10, approached us and our doggies. You could easily tell they were on a field trip as they each wore a backpack and were led by harried adults, constantly making sure they hadn't lost a kid or two to the gelato shop (lucky kids - at their age I was going to Planetariums for field trips, which led to temporary Narcolepsy. Hey...those reclining seats and twinkly lights were...zzzzzzzzzzzzzz). We spent a good 20 minutes with the kids, who were enamored with our dogs Pedro and Julie. Yeah...there was no correcting them, they thought Dooley was Julie. It was certainly endearing to see the kids interact gently with our doggies, but what will last with me, maybe forever, was their attempt to communicate with the Boy and I. Their English was in its infant stages but when this one boy in particular said "Happy Day" as his farewell, I almost lost it. It was pretty freaking cute and left an imprint on my brain.

A connection could be meeting two great women from Australia on a train or being wished a "Happy Day" by a cute 9 year old. Will I ever see them again? Probably not. If I don't, does that take something away from the connection? I say no, because that is the life of the Expat and traveler. Making seemingly temporary but sometimes very meaningful connections. On your next trip, try to not overlook finding the "touch" in your experience. Hopefully you find it and relish it just as much as I do.

This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, a community linking Expats and soon to be Expats. In addition to being a great source of Expat information, they offer affordable calling cards, keeping you connected.

Shame on You Zurich

2010-05-28T05:31:00.000-07:00

There is no Utopia. There is no heaven on earth. Even if there was, we couldn't truly enjoy it as the human condition requires us to be constantly dissatisfied during the course of our lives. We are wired to think there is always something better out there and it is because of this "grass-is-greener-itis" that we always strive to make things better. It is nature's way of ensuring our success (and excess unfortunately).

Since landing in Zurich, I have been its defender. I have yet to meet anyone who is completely in love with the place and just like any place on Earth, it has its flaws. Part of the reason why I always come to Zurich's defense is I truly believe you are responsible for your experience in ANY place you live. In addition, if I gave merit to every complaint thrown Zurich's way, I may just start believing all the negative stuff myself and not enjoy my experience as much. Defending Zurich is my defense mechanism against Expat unhappiness and I happen to truly like the place.

So what are some complaints that people have about my new city? Here are a few along with my defense:

1. The weather blows: Are you talking about the "Foehn"? The pressure system that the Swiss named after the German word for hairdryer? Well if so, you are right...there is a giant hairdryer in the atmosphere that blows crappy weather into Zurich. It isn't Zurich's fault and that cloud we have been under for 4 weeks seems to be hovering over all of Europe.

2. The people don't smile: Well if you were constantly being blown by a giant hairdryer, would you smile? All kidding aside, I just conducted an experiment. I smiled and said hello to 5 strangers. All 5 said hello back and 4 of 5 smiled. Not a bad ratio. Let's be honest with ourselves. In our past lives, were we walking down our streets smiling like lunatics? No...if I smiled walking down a street by myself in Atlanta, the likelihood I would be swooped up and taken to the nearest methadone clinic was pretty high. So unless you invented the "glum chum-o-meter" and can actually measure smiles, give the Swiss a break on this one.

3. It is hard to integrate into Swiss society: Well, holy crap. The city of Zurich happens to agree with you. They have even gone so far as to start a campaign teaching us foreign folk how to integrate into Swiss society. There is even a department in Zurich dedicated to foreign integration called "Intergrationsfoerderung" and the new campaign they released almost reads like a 10 Commandments of clean Swiss living.

This particular poster is one example of many designed to get the message out to us foreigners. It happens to be quite benign and I actually like the message:

I am not sure what this necessarily has to do with integration though. Perhaps there is a perception that foreign people come here, live beyond their means and drain Swiss society. I suppose I can't really fault a campaign designed to combat this, if it is in fact a real threat.

Other messages include "Try other food besides Kabobs..." and "When you ask for something, ask politely" and "Don't fight with your fists, if you have an issue with someone, talk it out". These are all great snippets of wisdom but there is a catch...almost every poster is paired with a person from a different culture and each culture represents a stereotype. For instance, the poster with the "Try other food" message has a picture of a man of African descent. The poster containing the "Don't fight with fists" contains a picture of a man in a wife beater who appears to come from Eastern Europe.

For the first time since moving here, I can't defend Zurich. In my opinion, the city took the easy way out. On their own, the messages they are trying to get out are fine and actually have some merit. I am all for integration and it being the duty of the visitor to at the very least honor the new culture and place they are inhabiting. However pairing these messages with a stereotype is offensive and narrow-minded.

There are so many other pictures this campaign could have used. Instead of pairing the food poster with an African male, how about showing us this great Swiss food you want us to try? Instead of pairing the fighting poster with a Eastern European guy in a wife beater, how about showing two mouths talking to each other? All this does is serve as further proof that Zurich, and even the country of Switzerland, is afraid that us foreigners are going to irreversibly change their country. Switzerland may be known for being neutral, but is becoming increasingly evident to me that they are more afraid of change and willing to do whatever it takes to prevent it. I suppose that is their prerogative, but it sure doesn't make Zurich feel warm and cozy to the Expat.

Shame on you Zurich. I wish there was a corner for ill-behaving cities I could put you in, but alas one doesn't exist. If you want to see more on this campaign, visit (just don't ask me to translate): http://www.integration.zh.ch/internet/ji/integr/de/schaufenster.html

This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, a community linking Expats and soon to be Expats. In addition to being a great source of Expat information, they offer affordable calling cards, keeping you connected.

Smelling Cinque Terre

2010-05-27T05:44:00.000-07:00

To say a place smells sorta puts you off, doesn't it? Well knock it off, Cinque Terre smells mostly good. The worst thing we smelled the whole trip was the present Dooley left us in our apartment one day...under our bed...a bed that had no where to move because it filled up the entire room...I had to get all "Tom Cruise-Mission Impossible" on that clean-up.

Cinque Terre is in the Mediterranean so of course it has that salty, sweet smell that comes along with an ocean location. I am a lake girl but nothing smells quite like ocean air:

There were flowers everywhere and they perfumed the streets:

Did you see the size of those lemons? Nice lemons! Excuse me, but can I squeeze your lemons?

These are all of the things you want to say when you first see them. Just be careful what company you are in when you say any of the above phrases. They could be taken the wrong way...you know, language barriers and all. The lemons were humongous in comparison to what we see in the stores and they left a subtle, fresh scent.

I don't have pictures of the smells that would waft through the streets. You can't really take a picture of "wafting", but there was waftage. I am talking fresh Foccacia bread waftage, garlic waftage and all sorts of other incredibly edible smells.

Now I am home, sitting at my computer with one of my dogs on my lap. My dogs are notorious sulfur producers. Let's just say Cinque Terre smelled a LOT better.

Tasting Cinque Terre

2010-05-26T06:43:00.001-07:00

I know my way around a kitchen and I enjoy a good glass of wine from time to time. If quality and fresh ingredients are important to you like they are to me, then Italy is a food and wine paradise. Living in Switzerland, I can get great in season produce for a decent price, but fresh seafood? Fo get a baht it.

Cinque Terre is not only known for seafood but also for its fresh fish, pesto (served over a special pasta called "Trofie") and Foccacia bread. I tried them all in abundance. I wish I could say "I couldn't get enough" but friends, while I like Italian food, I also like variety. By about day 4 of our 6 day stay, I started to seriously crave burgers (with bacon, cheese, avocado, lettuce, tomato, mayo, ketchup and a extra large side of fries...just so we are clear). I never crave burgers except on trips to Italy...we are talking "rotund Italian men started looking like giant burgers" craving.

The wine...oh the wine. Each restaurant had a house red or white which were not only reasonably priced, but also delish. In addition to all of the house wines we tried, the couple we rented our room from also owned the vineyard you see behind the Boy in the picture below. We tried two of their whites and one of their reds, and they were all incredible. The name of their company is Cheo Azienda Agricola, they do not have a website and produce about 14,000 bottles per year. If you are dying to try out their wine, I guess you will just have to go to Vernazza, rent the same room we did and buy a few bottles direct from the owners:

The Boy and I tried anchovies at almost every restaurant we visited. We did this because we couldn't believe we liked them so much but also to compare how each restaurant prepared these little lovelies. The anchovies served here are of the white variety and very mild in comparison to what you get in the States. I swear each one I placed in my mouth was caught within the past 24 hours. Just so you know, they are too little to be de-boned and you even eat its little tail and probably all its other little things:

So what you are about to see may frighten you, delight you or both:

Once you get past the suckers and the tentacle-y stuff, you are treated to the sweetest, most tender and fresh 8 legged creature ever. I have to admit, it always takes me a little while to get past eating octopus and if it is the least bit chewy, I want to heave...but this dude was smooth as buttah and sweeter than any lobster meat I have ever had.

One word: GELATO. I love the stuff. Don't ask me how it is different from ice cream but I think it contains eggs and ice cream does not. I had a pistachio gelato from the little shop located in the harbor of Vernazza. Folks, it was possibly the best thing I put in my mouth all vacation. If I have any advice for gelato consumption, it would be to go outside of your chocolate or vanilla comfort zone. Try some other varieties...you will be glad you took the risk.

So here is a little story about rules. I am not a food purist and I am definitely not an expert on how to eat Italian food. I just order it and stuff it in my mouth. On our last day, we shared a pasta dish served with scampi (langostines) and asparagus. There were 3 langostines on the plate which are basically tiny lobsters and produce tiny bits of deliciously sweet meat. We knew the seafood portion of our meal would fast be gone so we asked for some Parmesean cheese to give the remainder of our dish a little flavor. Our server proceeded to roll his eyes so violently that I half expected them to drop to the ground, only to be scarfed up by the stray cat that had been patrolling the restaurant that day. While I was fearing a cat would eat his rolled eyes, he proceeded to explain in harsh tones that pasta with seafood is NOT to be eaten with Parmesean cheese. We said we wanted it anyway, he shuffled off while muttering "Jesus H Christ...why is Rick Steves bringing us all these morons?? Why?"

Finally, a little note about service and tipping. Each restaurant charged us a cover charge. I know what you are thinking, we were eating at night clubs and didn't know it. While I do not know exactly what the cover charge is for, I know what we used it for...their tip. If a restaurant is going to charge us a fee to dine there, well then no tip-a-roo. The service was also equivalent to what we experience in Switzerland...there are no "let's all hug and facebook each other" after our meal moments like you get in the States. Service is just a different animal in Europe and we are OK with that, especially considering we tip accordingly (which is sometimes not at all).

We ate and drank our way through Cinque Terre. I have new dimples on my butt to prove it.

Seeing Cinque Terre

2010-05-25T08:34:00.000-07:00

From its terraced vineyards to its terracotta stained buildings, Cinque Terre is a sight to behold. In addition to the natural beauty of the area, tradition runs thick. You can see the tradition when two local female residents are hanging out of their windows after 5pm chatting instead of using their cell phones. The colors are uniform and ancient in their presentation for a reason, you can't paint just any old color...it has to get approved. In other words, tradition is mandated but it is also embraced here and you can see it. There is no use in me jibber jabbering anymore. Shall we see some pictures?

Riomaggiore

Manarola

Me, our deck and our view

Cinque Terriers

One of the many insane views captured while hiking

Standing on a castle...check. View in background...check. Squinty eyes...check.

It isn't Italy if you don't see a kitty in a basket

And...ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Five Lands, Five Senses

2010-05-24T02:14:00.000-07:00

When you think of taking a trip somewhere, you typically think about what you are about to see. There are certain places however that are more than just their scenery as they can tickle all 5 of your senses. Africa was the first place I visited that did just that. But it didn't just tickle my senses, it punched them around like one of those unbelievably sculpted warriors in the movie 300 would a rag doll. Anyone know if their abs were real? Just wondering...

Last Saturday the Boy, Monsters and I trained from Zurich to Cinque Terre, Italy and discovered another place that is much more than just its scenery. Lying along the dramatic northeastern coast of Italy, Cinque Terre literally translated means "five lands" and is composed of 5 towns, each with their own unique character. They got their start as tiny fishing villages and later added grape and olive production to their repertoire giving Cinque Terre its famous terrace landscape. Cinque Terre is a UNESCO World Heritage Site as a result of its rugged beauty and location along dramatic coastline in the Italian Riviera making it the tourist mecca it is today.

Once heralded a secret getaway for the European traveler, Cinque Terre is now a hot spot destination teeming with travelers from all over the world. This is in some part due to our favorite dorky travel writer and TV personality: Rick Steves. Rick is either loved or loathed depending on the local you ask. One particular restaurant owner showed me his well worn copy of "Rick Steves Italy" every time I bought a fricken chocolate filled croissant...which was often my hips are sad to say (and my hips don't lie). It took all my willpower to not say "Yeah...I get it, you made it in a freakishly tall travel writer's book...yay". Even though Cinque Terre's secrecy is gone, it maintains its authenticity as the locals are a proud people and believe in maintaining the many traditions of their tiny but steep world.

Over the course of the next 5 days, I am going to talk about this magical little place and how it impacted all 5 of my senses. Today you will just have to settle for a little introduction and eye candy to get you wanting for more.

Wine Goggles

2010-05-14T06:45:00.000-07:00

The term Beer Goggles is pretty straight forward- the more beer you consume the better something or someone can look. Typically this phrase is used for human interaction within a setting where mass amounts of beer is consumed and very well be the number one reason for the "one night stand" and those awkward moments when you reintroduce yourself to someone only to find out you met them the night before...they just looked really different when washed down with a few Miller Lights.

Yesterday we met Art of Geneva and his friend Eva in Sierre (or Siders if you are Swiss German) which is a small town located in the French speaking canton of Valais. This region and Sierre specifically, is known for its wine production and tasting and imbibing. It is also quite beautiful, but perhaps I had wine goggles on? It is a stunning combination of old European cuteness, valleys, mountains, ridges and all that other good Swiss scenery stuff...only it is served with copious amounts of wine.

I wish wine goggles could do something about my Courtney Cox circa 1999 hair-do

I am no wine expert and the way I judge wine is "oh, that tasted really good" or "oh, that tasted like the backside of some nasty wooden barrel". We tasted a bunch of varieties including Syrah, Johannisberg, Fendant, Chardonnay and our favorite, the Pinot Blanc. While we have been told many times over that the Swiss reds are sort of crappy, we had a very nice Syrah yesterday to prove some of the Swiss Red Haters wrong.

I loved this particular Vineyard's (or Cave) organizational skills

If you like wine and you like beautiful scenery, then I encourage you to explore this area. Here are some snapshots from the day and maybe you can tell me if it is really beautiful, or if I just had on some wine goggles:

Staycation 2010

2010-05-05T08:21:00.000-07:00

So if I were a volcano and no one could pronounce my name, I would probably get pissed off and spew hot stuff too. I have come far my friends - just two weeks ago I was cursing volcanoes and their stupid magma and their disregard for human travel plans with all of their "creating fertile soil and new earth crust" shtick. I am no longer cursing volcanoes rather my attention and wrath has turned to the constant onslaught of rain we have been experiencing over the past 5 days, which by the way has no end in sight.

We couldn't go to Atlanta but we could stay in Switzerland and have a "Staycation" (props to my dearest Paige, lovely girlfriend of my brother in law, for reminding me of this spectacular word). Our Staycation started off with an olive branch from Mother Nature:

What is better than a rainbow? Two rainbows...if you look closely or out of the corner of your eye, you will see a rainbow above the one that is visible. It looked far more glorious in person and reminded me of all things good in the world: Kermit the Frog, Lucky Charms cereal, fuzzy frolicking kittens and fluffy puppies chasing butterflies... On this day we also had a little retail therapy session at IKEA where we purchased outdoor furniture so we can enjoy these types of things sitting down.

Mother Nature was so excited that we were cool again that she made the rest of our Staycation sunny and almost T-shirt weather warm. The Boy had a bug in his butt to bike to the famous Swiss Benedictine Abbey "Klosters Einsiedeln". Founded in 835, Klosters Einsiedeln is home to a Black Madonna which is said to have miraculous powers and is rumored to have inspired America's most famous Madonna to write "Like a Virgin". In addition to the Black Madonna, the church portion of the abbey built in the early 1700's is one of the finest examples of Baroque architecture in Europe. If Baroque means "paint everything peach", well then it certainly was a fine example. I think someone's Grandma had a bit too much input on the interior paint colors. Here are a few pics from the day:

Why hello photo that looks like a painting...you're purdy

I like to call this fountain "Pissing Contest" or "Even God Urinates"

While all catacombs are spooky, the dead people in here weren't dead long enough which sort of took the "spook" out of "spooky".

We did witness one miracle, a group of highly trained EMT's rescuing a very life like dummy, complete with the most amazing wedgie:

As you can see, this poor dummy needed some serious buttock resuscitation.

The following day, I took the boy and the doggies to Lucerne. While I had already witnessed its cuteness first hand, the boy had not. If you were to line up all of the "cities" in Switzerland, I would have to say Lucerne is the prettiest I have seen thus far:

Um...camera angles do the funniest things. Look at the head on that Boy!

The Loewendenkmal was Pedro and Dooley's favorite part of Lucerne. It was a gift to the Swiss guards of France's Louis XVI. The lion you see behind me is in precisely the same position that Dooley is in for 21 hours a day.

We rounded out our week with a BBQ which was held on the warmest day of our Staycation. I think this picture sums up the time we had:

There is no shame in the Staycation game. We had a wonderful week at home, in Switzerland, together, while enjoying some really lovely weather.

Friendly Faces in Far Off Places

2010-04-29T23:31:00.001-07:00

I know you are all are clamoring to see if we made it to Atlanta. Unfortunately the Volcano with an unbelievable amount of vowels in its name won and we did not make it back for a visit. To say I was disappointed is an understatement but one of the things that made me feel better about not seeing our old friends, was seeing our new ones.

Expat success is a jumble of many factors but I believe none is more important than having a good friend base and social life. What is better at connecting and rooting you to your new home than having people to share it with? We have met some great people, so how did we do it?

1. Stay Motivated: If there is a group of people motivated to meet new people, it is Expats. There is no use in telling you to get motivated because you are likely polishing your best ice breakers and go-to stories in preparation, long before you even get to your new host country. The trick is to stay motivated while you are there otherwise all that hard work in the beginning is for naught. Stay the course Sailors and Sailor-chicks!

2. Start Before you Move: I am no stranger to making friends on-line much to the Boy's dismay. When I learned we "might" move, I started trolling the internet and came across blogs and forums and other forms of personal experiences. I reached out to several women in the blogging community, all willing to help and meet me upon my arrival. To this date I haven't attracted any psychopaths selling me on a "6 Minute Abs" video, so I still use it as a networking tool with great success.

3. Put your Fear in a Corner and Slap it Around: We are all afraid to a certain extent of rejection or failure so the thought of having to make a whole new group of friends can be daunting while producing a good deal of fear. This is especially the case if you are an introvert, but if there is ever a time to get out of your comfort zone, it is when you are an Expat. Tell your fear to look the other way and then bitch slap it. It may yell back "no one puts Fear in a corner!" but you can just walk away knowing that as an Expat, you are having the time of your life.

4. Join Something: You all know by now that my something was Intensive German Class, but it can be anything group oriented. Do you like knitting or cooking? Well then find a class. Have you always wanted to bring out your inner Mother Theresa but never had the time? Well then find a volunteer organization. The sky is the limit and through my something, I met some really great people and formed friendships.

5. Broadcast your News: Before we came over, we told anything that moved of our plans. We were excited and while I garnered a good deal of strange looks while talking to squirrels and the cashiers at Publix about our big move, a great deal of connections started popping up as a result. One neighbor in Atlanta alone connected us to 8 people in Zurich. Pretend you are a walking "Toastmasters Club" and network yourself, the results can be rewarding.

These 5 simples strategies have made for a busy social life and one that is very fulfilling. It requires a bit of effort but it is all well worth it because as I have mentioned before, home for me is where my heart is. When I learned we couldn't go to Atlanta, I got a BBQ together and it turned into one of my favorite nights here. Not only was the weather beautiful and the food awesome, the fact I had new friends to get over not seeing my old ones was a great comfort. So get yourself out there!

Any other tips for making friends in a strange new land? Any success stories you would like to share?

This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, a community linking Expats and soon to be Expats. In addition to being a great source of Expat information, they offer affordable calling cards, keeping you connected.

Sexy Loitering

2010-04-26T01:07:00.000-07:00

Last Monday the Boy and I took in another great Zurich Festival called "Sechselaeuten" which in my warped brain sounds a lot like "sexy loitering". As it would turn out, it sort of felt that way at the end...more on that later.

The festivities started out with what could have possibly been the longest parade I have ever witnessed and easily lasted over 3-4 hours. The parade consisted mostly of men representing a different working class guild and dressed like Benjamin Franklin holding flowers (sorta looked like an 18th Century version of the Gay Pride Parade).

Historically this day marked the beginning of "summer hours" for the working men. Summer hours meant once the church bells rang at 6pm, the working men could stop their work and enjoy a few hours of sunlight. Today the practice of summer hours no longer applies unfortunately and there isn't a mass exodus from businesses at 6pm, rather it is just more of an excuse to celebrate the coming of better weather...hopefully.

The festivities culminate with the burning of the Boogg which is a happy looking snowman towering over the part of Zurich called Bellevue. Little does happy snowman know he is about suffer an ugly death as he is filled with fire crackers and composed of highly flammable materials. The quicker the Boogg burns, the better Summer will be...the Swiss version of Groundhog Day. I am happy to report that sucker cooked in 12 minutes 54 seconds which is a very good time according to the Boogg Scale of Burnage. Since this is all very scientific, I am certain this Summer's weather is going to rock.

So back to Sexy Loitering. While taking in the burning of the Boogg, I couldn't help but notice that we were packed in like sardines which led to everyone inadvertently bumping and grinding with each other. It was crazier than Poison show filled with Rock of Love contestants (a little shout out to my favorite hair band front man Brett, Godspeed brother). Even though the fire was contained, I couldn't help but feel a little uneasy given the lack of escape routes.

It was an awesome day and further proof the Swiss know how to put on a festival/parade. More pics from the day:

This dude was about to throw this fish at some other dude. Homey in the corner looked pretty excited about it.

The "Scary Larry" Guild was in attendance.

Remicks vs the Volcano

2010-04-19T00:09:00.000-07:00

The life of an Expat is never dull. Tomorrow we are supposed to fly to Atlanta to visit family, friends, BBQ's and Mexican restaurants but Mother Nature decided it is time to be a total ash-hole. I suppose she has every right to be, we sort of destroy her daily so perhaps we are getting our just desserts. According to our airline Delta, we have a 50/50 chance to fly out tomorrow which sounds promising right? I actually translate 50/50 to mean: you may fly out, you may not...we really don't know anything, we are just Delta representatives. Wait a sec, we do know something...how to say "no" 20 different ways, all the while convincing you customer service is dead". Sorry, I have long standing Delta Resentment Syndrome.

Originally this post was going to be titled "We're Coming to America...Tuesday!" and I was going to whip out some Neil Diamond pics and perhaps even video myself singing a few bars of some of his greatest hits. Who doesn't like the Diamond? I was also going to list, with a great deal of zeal, the top 5 things I was looking forward to on our first return visit. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to still list them although my "zeal" is now tempered with sad anticipation of what may come. Here is the list anyway, maybe if Mother Nature sees what I will be missing out on, she may pipe down:

1. Food- Restaurant food here is shockingly expensive while at the same time lacking in variety or quality. Meat is also "stick a fork in your eye" expensive so me want ribs, bacon, beef, BBQ'd flesh and the Boy wants Mexican food. I am a walking contradiction really. I love animals and I hate when they suffer, but I also chomp the hell out of them while uttering the following attractive noises: nom, nom, nom, CHOMP!, nom...burp. Word on the Expat street is by day 2 or 3 of gorging ourselves, our tummies may start rebelling. I am willing to risk a little belly discomfort for some temporary food comfort.

2. Shopping- I am not a shopper and it is quite disconcerting that all of a sudden I have turned into a chick who is looking forward to a little shopping action. I am not sure if I will even buy that much while in Atlanta, but I just want to walk all the aisles in Target. I mean EVERY AISLE, including the ones carrying automotive and scrap-booking supplies. I don't miss being a consumer, but I do miss finding a bargain. After living in Zurich for almost 9 months, sadly everything will seem like a bargain and I may feel temporarily rich. A very dangerous formula which could lead to mass consumerism.

3. Warm Weather- Atlanta's Spring has sprung and it appears to be barreling towards Summer. Zurich is sitting in an easy chair knitting socks because is still FRACKING cold out. Apparently Zurich doesn't spring towards anything, it sort of ambles about while twiddling its thumbs. We have had more sunshine and it is getting warmer, but we have yet to have real T-shirt weather. Shivering is over-rated and I am ready to be uncomfortably hot while trying to pick out the people who didn't use deodorant.

4. Understanding- I am looking forward to understanding the language that is being spoken to me and around me. There will be so many opportunities to eavesdrop and order the right thing and not make silly grammar mistakes. Just the other day I asked a sales person if I could "give him a colder beer" instead of "can I take a colder beer". My brain needs a language vacation like Lindsay Lohan needs rehab and a fried Twinkie.

5. Family and Friends- If home is where your heart is, then I have two. My heart can't wait to see everyone we left behind in the ATL.

Expat life is not "normal" and the only thing you can expect is the unexpected even though the unexpected doesn't always work out in your favor. If our trip planned for tomorrow wasn't meant to be, Expat life will move on and I will too, likely discussing a new topic that involves some sort of Top 5 list or play on words because that is what an Expat does.

This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, a community linking Expats and soon to be Expats. In addition to being a great source of Expat information, they offer affordable calling cards, keeping you connected.

Der, Die oder Das- What the What?

2010-04-15T23:09:00.000-07:00

Today marks the end of my Intensive German class. I have come a long way my friends but I am nowhere near where I hope to be someday. I compare my current competence to a rebellious teenager:

1. I have to think before I speak or else I may offend someone (inadvertently of course).

2. When being spoken to, I look all angsty, like the teens from Twighlight.

3. I don't talk that much and when I do, my sentences consist of 3-4 words with "nicht" (commonly used as a negation) being the word I use most often.

Many times over the past 5 months I have considered running away from class while making this dramatic exit: "You don't understand me and I don't understand you!". I subsequently slam the door and meet a hot vampire and all is right with the world again. Ok, I saw Twighlight for the first time last weekend and have been cast under its uber-tween spell. I am OK with this, the dude in it is totally hot.

It has also been a constant struggle to not feel like a complete dumb ass. Learning a language has this strange way of bringing out the worst in your ego and mine has been bruised pretty badly, like Ed Norton in Fight Club.

While I have had my downs, there have been more than enough ups to compensate. Take for instance the day I tried to explain my word association technique to my fellow classmates. In the German language, you have what are called "articles" designating a noun. The noun can be feminine, masculine or neutral and a lot of times the designation makes absolutely no sense.

On this particular day everyone was frustrated so I decided to share what helped me the most. My first tip was with an easy word- das Madchen which means "little girl". "Das" is the neutral article and pairing it with the word that means little girl is of course counterintuitive. Why in the holy frackin world would they make a little girl neutral? A little girl should be feminine or "die". So I told the class to just think of Jamie Lee Curtis. She was born sort of neutral as she had both the "der" and the "die", which cancelled each other out making her more of a "das". Needless to say I got a lot of stares after this tip.

After the stares I tried another tip. This time I used a slightly more difficult word- der Kase which means "cheese". We had just gotten through learning the rule "if a noun ends in "e" then 90% of the time it is feminine or "die". And then came cheese in all its masculinity and I told the class- "just think of a guy who hasn't showered in a really long time and you..." I didn't get a chance to finish as I got a lot of "ewwwws". I bet no one has forgotten the article for cheese though. I did what I had to do to help the class as we were all drowning. I was Jack saving Rose in the Titanic, all the while sacrificing myself for the greater good.

A few more examples of my word association skills:

1. die Welt- feminine- the World- chicks rule

2. die Schlange- feminine- snake- chicks don't have one

3. die Wurst- feminine- sausage- again, chicks don't have one

This morning the Boy asked me if I would miss class. My first reaction was "hell no, I live in Zurich not Crazy Town". Then I got to thinking more about my experience and what it did for me. It did more than teach me a language that I still barely know, it also made me a more self confident Expat. It gave me that much needed sense of belonging and accomplishment that I used to receive from working. It has also garnered the respect of several German speakers I have happened across. It is easy to get by here without learning German so when an English speaker tries, it doesn't go unnoticed. I encourage anyone making a move abroad to at the very least take a beginners course as it can really do so much for you.

I plan to continue with my studies but in a much less intensive fashion. In addition to the 5 notebooks full of German grammar, I have all sorts of notes describing funny things that have taken place in class. I am like Woody Allen: I promise more stories to come taking place in the same place, on the same subject matter, with the same muse.

Are you Ready for some Football?

2010-04-12T01:07:00.000-07:00

So what do you get when you take a Swiss, Mexican and South African and put them in outdoor foldable chairs? We are talking pimp folding chairs, the kind that fit neatly in a bag with the all important cup holders.

a. A United Nations Meeting...with some pretty severe furniture budget cuts and booze.

b. A bar of chocolate, a tamale and World Cup Ticket.

c. A group of three people, with international flair, watching American style football.

d. All of the Above

If you answered "All of the Above", you were wrong...but that would be pretty psychedelic. The answer is right here:

Please notice who sponsors this team...please...can I give you a hint? It rhymes with "cooters".

Somehow the Boy managed to discover that Zurich has an American style football team called the "Zurich Renegades". I am a coach's daughter and the Boy a graduate of University of Georgia, so you could say we are diehard football fans. A bunch of Europeans playing football of course piqued our interest so we got a bunch of friends together and went to the Stadium. The Stadium turned out to be a grassy knoll and the field is one you can sign up for on a chalkboard, but there was a real-deal-Holyfield game going on:

The game had all the necessary ingredients: Cheerleaders (whose formations resembled more the Leaning Tower of Pisa than the Egyptian Pyramids), Refs with giant bellies, girls on unicycles (that is not a typo) and grown men in tight pants showing off their assets while beating the holy crap out of each other. The only thing missing was 5 yards between the 40 and 50 yard lines...no seriously, for some reason the 40-50 on both sides of the field were only 5 yards long therefore only making the field 90 yards long. We forgave this tiny detail.

So back to the Swiss, Mexican and South African attendees. I was walking around taking pictures and happened across a pretty serious set up, including a foldable table with cup holders:

I was so touched by their genuine appreciation for the game and their attention to detail, I mean look at this table...it is breathtaking. After chatting for a bit, I took a few more pics of the day:

No, it wasn't 7:20 in the evening rather this was their scoreboard. We still aren't sure how accurate the scores were as a little girl thought this was a toy and upon leaving, the Renegades appeared to have lost two points in the 4th Quarter.

These jackets and the 15 year old cheerleaders gave the game had a very "high school circa 1965" feel to it. We also had the all important opportunity to chant "Rudy, Rudy, Rudy" as a 5'2" running back for the Zurich Renegades scored a touchdown. It really doesn't get better than that.

Between watching a game I truly love and seeing it with great friends on a crisp fall-like day, it made for an enjoyable, hilarious and surreal experience.

You can also check me out over on ACC today talking about "Expat Types". Check it out!

Sometimes the Best things in Life are Almost Free

2010-04-05T09:07:00.000-07:00

Have dogs? Want to see them go Ape-poo crazy? Here is what you need to do and it is almost free:

1. Go to the store.

2. Buy something wrapped in plastic.

3. Unwrap what you just bought.

4. Get dogs excited by saying "look what I got!"

5. Watch your one dog start to shake.

6. Giggle.

7. Give your crazy dogs the plastic wrap.

8. Watch magic unfold, and it is almost free.

Also check me out on ACC where you will find me giving tips on how to survive as a trailing spouse. Unfortunately my tip list does not include taking plastic wrap, putting it into your mouth and trying to kill it like a woodland squirrel, but maybe I should have listed it...seems like a great stress reliever.

What is your "Thing"?

2010-03-27T01:51:00.001-07:00

Before you say "none of your beeswax, my thing is "A", you are "B", so "C" your way outta here"...hear me out. I am not talking body parts, k? I believe every Expat has a "thing", something that keeps you connected to where you came from. It is that one comfort you long for. It could be something tangible like a particular store (come on, we all miss Target!) or something intangible like communication:

Me: "Ich hatte gern blahty blah" (I would gladly like to have blahty blah)

Salesperson: "Ok, would you like blahty blah to go?" (Ok, would you like blahty blah to go?)

Me: "Sheisse! Du sprichst fricken English, weil meine Deutsch so schlecht ist" (Poop! You are speaking fricken English, because my German is so bad)

Salesperson: "It is just easier, there is a long line behind you... so giddy up cowgirl" (no translation needed unfortunately)

I suppose you could have more than one "thing", I know I do. In addition to wanting the ability to communicate, I want me some bacon.

You think I jest, but I am dead serious about my unhealthy obsession with bacon. I firmly believe my heart and stomach are connected...I was born to love food and the best seasoning, side dish, strip of something, is bacon. I mentioned missing my fave food to another Expat 3 months ago or so. She looked at me like I was Whitney Houston after a crack binge and exclaimed "There is bacon here!". Needless to say I in turn looked at her like she was Whitney Houston on crack because at that point in time, I had only found Speck. There is a very good reason it rhymes with "heck": "Speck? That is no Bacon, what the heck?"....good thing it wasn't named "Spuck".

Then last week divine intervention happened. While I was looking for a less lame package of Speck, I decided to turn the corner and I caught a glimpse of something familiar. It was thick cut, it was happy, it spoke to me...it was BACON! I didn't even need to fry it in a pan to know it was bacon. I think the feeling I had would be similar to meeting with a long lost blood relative, something about it felt "familiar".

So the point of all this bacon talk is this: Expats have a "thing" or multiple "things" that they long for and can't seem to find in their new home. Is it homesickness? Is it an umbilical cord keeping them connected to their homeland? Whatever it is, it is totally benign, totally normal and it doesn't mean you are failing as an Expat.

Now that I found one of my "things" here, it undoubtedly needs to be replaced. I am not sure what my new "thing" will be but I have a trip to the States coming up, so I am sure I will learn what it is soon enough.

So what is your "thing"? What is that something familiar that keeps you connected to your homeland?

This post was written for AffordableCallingCards.net, a community linking Expats and soon to be Expats. In addition to being a great source of Expat information, they offer affordable calling cards, keeping you connected.

Today You Can Find Me...

2010-03-25T02:37:00.000-07:00

over at TwoFools in Zurich talking about the upcoming smoking ban in Zurich. I have been looking forward to this day since my first meal in a Zurich restaurant. Between Spring springing and smoking bans banning, I am so excited I could eat some chocolate...so that is exactly what I will do.

MY Morning Jacket

2010-03-23T00:48:00.000-07:00

I miss the days I could just open the back door, let my dogs out and they would do their bidness. You could find me lazily watching them from the window with coffee cup in hand, making sure no poopage was ingested or rolled around in. Here there is no back door to open or window to watch poopage action from. The Boy or I must take the dudes to the closest park, all of which are really quite close however at 7:30 am, they seem so so SO far away. As they eat their breakfast a la "Hills Science Diet Allergen Free", I get dressed for battle in my DAILY morning outfit:

Exhibit A

First I want to thank "One Eyed Teddy" for being my model. I think he wears this outfit better than I do. As you can see, I look like a hobo, and we aren't talking "Hobo Chic" either. I am a bandana-bag-on-a-stick away from being a legit hobo. Let's take a closer look, shall we?

Exhibit B

As you can see, I have a LOT going on (or wrong) with this outfit. I haven't been beeped at in this outfit but I am certainly not going unnoticed either. Thanks to the Tarheel's hat, circa 1972, I have almost caused several 12+ car pileups. The purpose of this hat was not only to keep me warm, but to hide my untamed "bed head". Now that Spring is seemingly here, I need a plan B to hide my gnarly mane. The Target purchased Pink Floyd T-shirt is the only variable in my morning outfit. This can be replaced quite easily with an old high school basketball T-shirt or one of my 5 sizes too big sorority T-shirts. The jacket, if you look closely...is dirty from who knows what and I am A-ok with that.

Exhibit C

I am afraid this is where things go downhill, and fast. Let's start with the fuzzy pants. I seriously wear them every morning, they are 2 sizes too big and I stuff them into my rubber boots. I like how they puff out like pirate pants when I do so...Yaaaaaar! The red socks were a gift from Delta Air Lines. I like to have a little "first class" with my morning outfit. Finally, the boots...as you can see, they are filthy. I have no plans to rectify this situation as I think the mud and dirt gives them character. Everyone knows rubber boots need a little bit of character.

Over dinner one evening with friends, one of which is Swiss, we were talking about the dress code here. The Swiss participant said that anything but sweat pants in public is OK and I blurted out "whoopsies, then I need to go to Swiss Fashion Jail". I don't limit the sweat pants to just morning poopage walks unfortunately. You can sometimes catch me wearing something breathable and comfy on my way to the gym. Unfortunately for me and the casual observers around me, my gym is in the heart of the city where everyone seems to be dressed to the "nines". I can't even imagine what our neighbors must think of me.

What I take away from my morning outfit is this, I am getting one step closer to being "ego free". It really takes someone with iron self esteem to dress this way, or incredible laziness. One or the other.

You Can't Be Serious!!!!

2010-03-21T02:22:00.000-07:00

Nothing says "child of the 80's" quite like an unhealthy love of its music and John McEnroe. Well, at least I loved Johnny Mac, but I was a die hard tennis fan and player growing up. When I learned he and several other retired players were coming to Zurich for an exhibition, I was tickled fuzzy tennis-ball-yellow.

The event was held at the Zurich Saalsportshalle which only holds approximately 2,300 people. Had I put my thinking cap on while ordering tickets, I would have bought the cheapies because there isn't a bad seat in the house. It didn't disappoint as you were not only treated to some excellent tennis, you got to see classic John McEnroe outbursts and men wearing headbands:

Nothing screams American quite like McEnroe asking if the line judge speaks English, but everyone seemed to be enjoying one of our most famous bad boy exports...myself included.

I don't think Mac puts on an act either, rather he appears to be a honest to goodness poopy pants McGhee. His opponent Henri Leconte was extremely amusing to offset the tense moments, not to mention I loved his man hairband or "Mand". I think you can find them where the Murse or Mansiere are sold.

Other players represented included my one time favorite Stefan Edberg, who at age 12 I dreamed of marrying but alas I wasn't blonde or Swedish enough for him:

Also in attendance was Goran Ivanisevic who wasn't a favorite of mine, but was the most impressive tennis player of the bunch. He could probably still do some damage on the tour and he certainly sported the Mand quite well:

I laughed and reminisced this evening, along with 2,000 or so other participants. The love of a sport is about as universal and cross cultural as it comes.

Branching Out

2010-03-18T02:29:00.000-07:00

Today I begin posting regularly for ACC. Check out how to find a doctor in Switzerland, or at the very least you can see my beautiful prose in a different setting.

The Expat Bill of Rights- The Right to Complain

2010-03-12T23:47:00.000-08:00

When you arrive to your new country as an Expat, you feel like a guest and the host country is, well your host. It almost borders on dinner party formality and etiquette, the Expat being polite and almost subservient while the host country is telling you what to do, where to sit, what to eat, where to pee, where your dogs can pee, etc etc etc...

But then it happens, something goes awry and feel like complaining about it. As a guest though, complaining feels uncomfortable and you wonder if you really have the right to do it:

"Hey Guest In My Home, how were your beef tips?"

"Well, to be honest Switzerland, they were cold and didn't arrive on time which is strange because you are normally really good with the timing stuff. They made me very, very angry"

"Oh yeah? Well don't let the door hit you in the ass"

"Um, ok...your home is spotless though and I really love what you did with the..."

"OUT!"

So how do you earn the right to complain? It isn't that I lacked the intestinal fortitude to do so, it just required a few things to happen before I felt justified:

1. I became competent enough to complain in German.

2. I acknowledged that we too pay our share of Swiss taxes. Which by the way included a 50 page form asking you everything short of "what is your favorite song and why?"

3. Time cures almost everything, including Expat Self Esteem issues.

When I realized that I earned my right to complain, I marched into the office which held the people who did something poorly and/or wasted my time, and did just that. The representative who helped me immediately switched to English, which is par for the course, but I kept on speaking German sorta and complaining sorta. I had a huge cheshire cat grin while I was complaining, the woman likely thought I was insane, but she apologized with sincerity and took me seriously.

I am not suggesting that you HAVE to learn German to earn the right to complain, a 50 page Swiss tax form will do the trick, but you will earn some host country respect and likely get better results.

Happy Complaining!

Bat Crap Crazy- Volume 6

2010-03-09T01:13:00.000-08:00

It is So Cold I Can See My Breath AND Dead People

Boo freakin hoo Kristi, it is cold in SWITZERLAND...send the Whaaaaambulance. I am getting far too adept at stating the obvious lately and hopefully my redundant subject matter won't leave you feeling cheated. But it is my blog and I will bore you with the obvious, because it is my obvious and and all very new to me.

So we are talking so cold that my tears freeze, much like the tears this fountain cries:

For some reason, and I can't figure out why, I feel really bad for this little cherub who is covered in an ice blanket and encased in a Planet Krypton-esque prison. Not too long ago we had a decent stretch of warmer weather, even Mother Nature was fooled as young shoots started to make their way out of the ground and some really brave purple flowers bloomed. It is Switzerland though and it is still very much Winter I am afraid. Those poor shoots are probably pretty pissed off right now, shaking their green fists up at the sky while shouting "Curses! Foiled again!"

Last weekend we were brutally reminded of Winter's longevity with a mild blizzard, complete with fairly strong winds and approximately 4-5 inches of snowfall. Today it is snowing again, the wind is whipping again and I can no longer compare Zurich weather with Atlanta's. If I know Atlanta, the turn to Spring is coming and likely not looking back. All Winter I could compare the two and at times we had warmer temps and less snow which gave me the sense that Winter here was a piece of cake. That cake has turned into humble pie however as it is becoming clearer each day that Winter lasts much longer here.

The mutterings of "oh sweet Jesus make it stop" or "Holy Crizzap it is cold" or even a little reverse Psychology "warm weather is for Wimps or when you retire", only give a little mental relief. Many Swiss, at least I assume they are Swiss, scoff at the cold by running in these conditions or even biking in them. Those folks are so bat crap crazy I am tempted to trip them, get them in a really vulnerable position and then start shaking them while saying "Stop acting so insane man! Huddle in your warm apartment like me and complain on a blog about how cold it is!". Without these crazy people, whose lives go on in the cold, I probably would be worse for wear though. My impulses to trip and shake them violently, quickly fall by the wayside and I get inspired for a few brief moments to make the best of it, even if "my best of it" consists of power walking towards something warmer.

My Turn to State the Obvious

2010-03-04T00:36:00.000-08:00

So a subject that has been beaten to death, smacked around and put through the proverbial wringer by Swiss Expats, is how expensive Switzerland is. Depending on the wind currents in any given year, Switzerland consistently falls somewhere in the top 10 most expensive places to live in; which means the World, the Planet, and technically the Universe, that is unless you believe in Aliens with Champagne tastes and caviar dreams. For some reason I can't get the image of ET driving a Bentley wagging his really long, lit finger while listening Notorious B.I.G's "Mo Money, Mo Problems". I need help...seriously.

Economics in its simplest form tells you why, the more money a country and its people have, the more expensive the cost of goods and services are. Switzerland trails Norway with the second largest GDP in Europe, minimum wage garners you an impressive 40,000 Francs per year (give or take) and taxes are some of the lowest in the world. I get the Economics thang, but it doesn't make my 50 rappen Ibuprofen go down any easier. I am not exaggerating and if anything I rounded down, but I bought a 10 pack of double-strength Ibuprofen for 10.80 Francs. I can get 200 Ibuprofen in the States for less than that. Just taking a 50 rappen Ibuprofen gives me a headache.

Before I even stepped on Swiss soil, I made peace with the fact it would be astonishingly more expensive here. For the most part I have maintained this inner peace, but yesterday when I received a bill for our Annual Doggy Tax which worked out to be 10 times higher than what we paid in Atlanta, I found the nearest corner, slid into a fetal position and started sucking my thumb...all at the risk of reversing my orthodontic work.

Is EVERYthing more expensive here? Well, sorta but not entirely. To keep my sanity and my inner peace, I am constantly searching for a Swiss Bargain and while this is a phrase that typically falls into the "oxymoronic" category, once in a while something can cost less than in the US:

1. Chocolate and Cheese: Well freakin duh, but pound for pound...quality chocolate and cheese are both less expensive here than in the States. Sure you can get processed cheese and Hershey Chocolate (Sorry PA, but Hershey Kisses are more like chocolate farts to me) for less, but you can definitely score here with quality chocolate and cheese. I recently went to a friends house for a dinner party and she had the most amazing Swiss double or triple cream cheese I have ever tried. She paid 9 Francs and it could easily have cost twice that in the States.

2. Wine: In my humble opinion, and many may disagree with me on this subject, I think an 8 Franc bottle of wine is typically of better quality than a $8 bottle from the States. The lack of import fees on European wines likely have something to do with this. The impact of import fees can be seen in how comically expensive crappy American wines are here.

3. Electric: We have only gotten one bill for electric in the 5 months we have lived here and it was $100. Compared to what we paid in the states, this is peanuts.

4. Garbage: The Swiss do garbage different. Instead of billing you for monthly pick up, you pay roughly 1.60-2 Francs per 35L bag. When you first discover this "pay for what you actually use" system, it seems borderline insane to pay close to 2 Francs for a garbage bag. BUT, if you recycle properly, push the garbage down daily and ignore the creeping stench towards Day 6, you can get away with one bag per week. For us, garbage pick up works out to be just under 8 Francs per month which is about half of what we paid in Atlanta.

5. Fruit and Veg: Now, I am treading on thin ice here but again when you consider quality, the fruit and veg at your run of the mill food store is better and cheaper than in the States for in season produce. Out of season and/or organic produce is cheaper in the States.

6. Water: If you buy bottled water in Switzerland, well then you are throwing your hard earned money away. Bye bye rainbow colored pretty Swiss Money. You are too pretty to be in my wallet. The water from the tap is ice cold and free of any chemical taste, precisely what you are paying Evian or Dasani for.

7. Cable and High Speed Internet: We pay less for cable and internet here, 85 Francs vs $115 per month, but the rub is we can't understand 3/4 of what is broadcast on our TV. Most channels are in a different language, so technically you could argue cable is way more expensive here based on number of channels an English speaker can actually use...but on paper, it is cheaper here.

Anything produced, manufactured, packaged, herded or imported can easily be 2-10 times more expensive here. But don't cry for me Argentina, I knew this going in and it is the price we chose to pay for an amazingly rich experience. If I have one really cheap grain of advice for anyone considering a move here, do your best to come to terms with this harsh reality before you come over. Otherwise, you won't be able to see what this country truly has to offer through your blinders of rage .

And with that, any other Swiss Bargains out there that I have not yet discovered?

Aaaaawesome!

2010-02-28T23:58:00.000-08:00

Since we have only been in Zurich for 6 months, the Boy and I are still treated to new traditions, holidays, experiences, etc. One of these new experiences is Fasnacht, a Catholic tradition of Carnival, a giant party lasting 72 hours celebrating and/or mourning the upcoming 40 days of Lent. The event culminates with an amazing parade full of confetti, elaborate costumes, human pyramids and cheer.

Historians have been searching for the lost Homer Scepter since the late 90's. Thought to be somewhere in Middle America, possibly hidden in a neighborhood Dunkin Donuts, it actually found its way to Zurich.

1. Confetti: They take their confetti quite serious here. It is rumored confetti was "invented" in Basel Switzerland, the home of the largest Fasnacht celebration. This rumor very well may be true considering I have never seen so much in my entire life. It was everywhere, and still is everywhere, including my apartment floor. Our friend Saskia was doused (assaulted) with the stuff, she may be finding it for years to come:

If parade participants weren't throwing candy at you like Nolan Ryan, they were showering you with tiny, circular pieces of paper. This one parade participant was particularly menacing:

I stayed far, far away from this apparent ring leader. Don't let this child fool you with its "crying", that is how they get you.

2. Elaborate Costumes: The costumes were nothing short of amazing, which is not surprising, the Swiss take great pride in everything they do. Most participants wore Larve, no not thousands of insect eggs (ew!), rather wooden masks that were mostly creepy, but entirely cool:

It seemed their only job was to scare the crap out of unsuspecting parade goers, myself included. One masked dude made me scream like a 13 year old girl who just watched Poltergeist for the first time.

The costumed participants were in groups of similar dress called "Cliques", and this scaring the crap out of you stuff is very reminiscent of the cliques from my junior high days where the cool girls didn't quite accept me. The parade participants were also keeping you at bay by saying "BOO! You don't belong with us".

3. Pyramids: If the parade participants weren't in wooden masks scaring you, they were forming human pyramids. We seriously saw probably 8 or so different groups getting all isosceles:

And sometimes, magic happens as an amateur photographer:

4. Cheer: Everywhere you looked, there were smiling faces enjoying Fasnacht and the wonderful weather. One parade goer in particular was enjoying herself. She took the word "awesome" to new levels:

It is moments like these that make me so thankful the drinking age here is 16. What a golden nugget of awesome.

The Swiss know how to pull a parade off and we will certainly be back next year. Here are some more photos from the day: