Suisseland, une monde entier

Last weekend I passed a beautiful two days and a night in Geneva, or Geneve, as the Swiss and French call it. Geneve is a beautiful city, small, but still somehow very worldly and alive, all at once. It is a city where being a foreigner is somehow not foreign, where being multi-cultural and multi-national is average, and where money is king, queen, country and god. (Though the statue of Rousseau in the middle of town might disagree.) Everything that the Swiss are good at, those are the things necessary for the world to function: diplomacy, time (in the form of 1000 CHF watches), chocolate and money. All in one small city, in one small country, in the middle of Europe.

Perhaps the most interesting landmark of Geneve is the infamous Jet d'Eau, a giant 140 foot fountain of water rising out of the Lake in Geneva. The Jet is not natural, but rather, a testament to what handling the world's money will get you, enough hydraulics to make your own continuous Old Faithful. The lake around the Jet is amazing, sparkling even under the clouds, and somehow much larger than it seems a lake should ever be. There are hourly boat rides and water taxis that make continuous tracks across the water, showing tourists and travelers old chateaux and mansions on the shore.

Up the hill from the lake, into the older section of Geneve lies the Cathedrale St. Pierre, where Calvin preached some 500 years ago. The cathedral is a beautiful gothic testament to the reformation, with circles of lights that hang like halos or crowns. 

Back down the hill from the Cathedrale lies a garden with a giant wall that bears the likenesses of the four reformateurs, all displayed in 3-4 times life size. The garden is a calm, quiet place, nothing like  the rest of geneva, where busy and bustle are common. 

Far to the other side of Geneva, sits the Palais de Nations, the home of the United Nations in Geneva. The Palais was built in the 1920s and 30s, a collaboration of five architects from four different nations, Italy, France, Switzerland and Hungary. Since then, several new wings have been added to the Palais, all designed and built in the same collaborative manner. The Palais is by far one of the most interesting locations in Geneve, it feels like a place where things are always happening, for indeed they are.

Beyond being a city of international diplomacy, Geneve is also a city of international gastronomy, with more restaurants and more nationalities of food than I have ever seen. There is thai, indian, pakistani, chinese, french, swiss, german, italian, japanese, ethiopian, lebanese, moroccan and classic american food all crammed into one city. Really. Your tastebuds will never get bored. And then there is always Swiss chocolate to polish everything off. 

mmmm... I think I will have to go back sometime soon.

La Ville d'Annecy

Well, a few weekends ago, I got to visit the charming little French town Annecy. When one imagines charming little French mountain towns, one is probably imagining Annecy, minus all of the tourists that are there to make their imagination real.

After an hour and a half on a Greyhound bus, (or whatever is the French equivalent) the morning was spent wandering around the charming town, looking at the beautiful flower-lined, cobblestone streets, admiring the general beauty of a picturesque town. It really was a fairytale or painting come true.

After a lunch of gnocci with gorgonzola cream sauce and delicious French bread, I headed to meet some friends over by the lake. They had chosen to buy a large loaf of bread, a couple bottles of wine and half a dozen types of cheese and meat for their lunch. Personally, I liked my gnocci, but their little picnic was the pitch perfect meal to have in this charming town. A friend of mine, Carey, and I then spent the afternoon eating ice cream, tourist gift-shop browsing, and sitting in the edge of the lake in Annecy.

All in all, it was exactly as I would have pictured it, right from the cobblestones to the flowers, to the water, the food and the people. I guess dreams really can be true.

Ah, les Francais

Well, I have been negligent. I haven't posted in almost three weeks, and what an interesting three weeks thy have been! I have taken classes in French, eaten more cheese than I can handle, traveled out of the country and dance my butt off in an australian club on French soil. So, rather than telling you the harrowing details of the last three weeks, I am instead going to tell you about a much more interesting topic, the oddities of the French, and other european nationalities.

1) The French love being French. Really, they have no idea we laugh at them for it.

2) They eat cheese and bread like its going out of style. Which it would, if it weren't for the French.

3) French coffee comes in espresso style cups and nothing else. I am convinced its because they do not like to admit they have to pee. Which brings me to...

4) Drinks of any sort (besides wine) are served in the smallest containers possible. Plus they are tall and skinny. Forget finding a slurpee even at Mac Do.

5) Wine, wine, wine. Ever heard of russian water? well the French have wine coming out of the taps too.

6) Walking and biking are cool again. Fancy cars are somehow still cooler.

7) Jeans are to be purchased to fit the individual's bodies. Boys especially, take note.

8) Making out in public is normal.

9) Contrary to popular belief, the French like foreigners... especially when they admit the French are superior.

10) If you want something from the government in France, be prepared to die of old age before your heirs finally get it.

11) The French do everything with style, real style, with a dash of true class.

24

How to begin? My first 24 hours in France have been insane, wonderful, and a little overwhelming. After disembarking the plane at the Lyon airport (LYS) I had this horrible, twisted feeling in my stomach, nerves. But my host mother is nice. After seeing the apartement that was to be my home for the next five months, I was estatic. My room here is a classic French boudoir, with a 10' ceiling, french doors, and a giant bed in velvet and wood (with matching armchair). I think I have landed in a fairytale a la Francaise. Then I saw my University. Perfect. Stone corridors, giant glass doors, and hundreds (or so it seems) of courtyards to connect it all. The city? Also perfect. Then I got really lost in aforementioned city. Not so perfect. Well, if this is what it is like to feel bipolar, I kinda get why those kids don't always take their meds. I'd miss the great highs too. (just kidding, btw)

I am currently enrolled in my stage, a two week intensive french course, running from 9h to 16h30 each day. The focus of the stage is development durable, or roughly, sustainable development. It seems really interesting. Apparently, le development durable is a big tag thing here in Europe, kind of like renewable energy in the States. After the end of the class today, the professeurs took us on a walk next to the river. Waiting at the end was a little, informal cocktail event, with free beer. Yep, free. Perfect. Then I took the metro home and got lost. Ah well, can't have everything.

There is nothing like the Germans

Yesterday I spent about two hours in the Frankfurt airport, in a country I  have never visited, that speaks a language I do not speak, not in the slightest.  The only things I can say in german are, “I speak german.” (not very useful when one does not speak german) and “Bless you, thank you and you’re welcome.” Yep, basically, german and I do not get along. Yet, I’ve been told the German’s have a word meaning “taking pleasure in another’s pain.” Now this, I would think very useful. Perhaps germans and I are not so incompatible after all.

 

Beyond this, my impression of the German’s (formed entirely on their airport and history) is that they are obsessed with cleanlieness and streamlined forms. There is nary a single basque, Romanesque or  aesthetically pleasing curve anywhere. Everything is clean, crisp and straight. Yet, there is a sort of beauty to it, the shining, dark, stone floors and the industrial, stainless steel pillars join together in a minimalist’s dream. And everything is clean. (did I already mention that?) I mean really clean,; I have yet to see a single piece of trash or speck of german dirt in my entire time in Germany (all two hours). Strange huh?

The airport in Frankfurt, Germany

Of Deodorant and Visas

As I have prepared for my departure to France over the course of the last couple of weeks, I have discovered that two things have consistently occupied my mind, my visa and the purchase of enough deodorant to last a year.

 

On the subject of deodorant, apparently they do not have the same types of deodorant in France that they do here. They have the sweet little spray kind, like axe, for both men and women, with nary a stick or gel in sight. As for this being true or not, I have only heard rumors, but I am determined to be prepared in any case. I would hate to be caught without my sweat-resisting, white residuing, amrican deodorant. Thus, I am bringing some. (and by that, I mean a lot)

 

As for the visa, there is a much more important lesson to be learned here, plan ahead. I did not. I had to rush to LA to hurry my visa process and still am ending up departing two days late for my program. So, a cautionary word to everyone, worry less about the deodorant, more about the visa