As we head into our sixth month in Switzerland, I can’t help but think how fast the time is flying by. Ken, though happy, likes to emphasize that we’re one quarter of the way through our stay. Yes, things are moving along quickly. But I have so much more to do before we leave…
Paris Delights
My favorite trip so far has been to Paris. Though I’ve been there before, experiencing the city with my children made me appreciate Paris in an entirely different way. For starters, I had no idea you could get cotton candy as big as this:
In addition to sugar-coma-inducing barbe à papa, Paris offers families a whole range of treats: carousels, playgrounds, crêpes, pastries, zoos, street performers and even sewer tours (what better way to please a nine-year-old boy).
I don’t think I ever noticed a single playground during my younger, childless days in Paris. I remember the canopy of trees, the fountains, the chairs and the perfectly laid-out lanes for strolling in the Jardin de Luxembourg. But play structures, not a one. As a parent, it’s impossible not to walk through a park without your playground radar on. And Paris has no shortage of playgrounds for desperate families who need to satisfy the needs of their museum-exhausted children. Just remember to bring your wallet. We discovered that even riding the swings costs money!
If you ask the kids about their favorite part of the trip (besides the playgrounds) you will hear two very different answers. Larry loved anything that was deemed important or well-known – the Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, etc. As long as it was famous, Larry wanted to see it. If only we could use that same technique to generate enthusiasm at mealtime, “See that broccoli? Someone famous grew it. Eat up.” Nina without hesitation will say that the highlight of her trip was the shopping. Since a love of spending money runs in the family (guess whose side) Nina naturally felt very at home in Paris. The gift shops especially piqued her interest.
Magic
Everywhere you go in the world, tacky souvenir shops abound. But Paris cashes in on its fame like no other city. I’m ashamed to admit that the Goldman family contributed to the success of tacky Parisian memorabilia (berets, snow globes, posters…). Our most embarrassing purchase would have to be the light-up Eiffel Towers. Initially, I thought, “Who would buy such junk?” But when your kids are jumping up and down and screaming excitedly, “Pleeeease!!! I’ll pay you back. I have to have one.” Well, then you eventually cave. Trapped by the beauty of the Eiffel Tower glowing in the background and the excitement of our children, Ken bought not one, but two light-up towers. That’s how I knew that the magic of Paris had swept him up too. He didn’t even blink an eye when he handed his money over to the triumphant street vendor. Yes, we’re suckers. But we know that happy kids make for happy parents. And when in Paris, just throw money around and everything will be fine. We can cry about the bills later.
Spring
Though Ken mentioned the coming of spring in last month’s notes, I feel compelled to emphasize once again the joy of its arrival. Suffering through a bleak cold winter has made us grateful for warmth, sunshine, flowers and trees. The whole city is alive with people making use of the outdoors. But more importantly, those pesky smokers in restaurants have moved their nasty habit outside. The Swiss have not yet caught on to the smoking ban in restaurants like their neighboring countries. In the winter months when windows are kept tightly closed, the first thing one notices upon entering a restaurant is the smell of cigarette smoke, not the pleasant aroma of food. Now that the windows are wide open and outdoor tables line every sidewalk, it’s a big relief to be able to sit in a restaurant without the kids saying, “It stinks in here.”
Given the Swiss love of the outdoors and their passion for physical exercise, smoking seems so contradictory to their lifestyle. The Swiss will smoke anywhere - at the zoo, as they’re pushing their kids on the swings, waiting for the tram. My favorite sight is the mailman on his scooter rain or shine always with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. I’m also fascinated by the workers at the glass factory who blow glass for hours, but who still take the time to have a smoke every few minutes. They must have some strong lungs!
Another bonus that comes with spring is the decrease in mystery illnesses. If you thought the swine flu hysteria was bad, you need to spend some time at the International School. All winter long we received notices from the nurse alerting us to all sorts of sicknesses: strep throat, lice, fifth disease (slap rash), scarlet fever, threadworm… Are we really in Switzerland?
Polyglot, I am not
That’s my new motto. I’m convinced I will continue to bore you with the trials and tribulations of my language mishaps for the next 18 months. These incidents are never-ending for a linguistics challenged person as myself. So please bear with me.
Last month when we were in Italy, Nina and Larry had a few itchy bug bites. Since the pharmacies were all closed for lunch, I decided to go into a beauty supply store to buy some hand lotion to ease their skin. When I showed Ken my purchase he pointed out that I had just bought the equivalent of Orajel. I then returned the mouth cream for a familiar product, Eucerin. Once outside I started pumping what I thought was hand lotion onto my kids’ arms. Then Larry and Nina started complaining that it felt sticky. I bought soap! As my kids’ arms started foaming and Nina started crying, Larry decided to rub salt into my wounds, “I can’t believe you’re Italian and you can’t even speak the language!” I thought it best not to mention that I also took Italian for two years in high school. Oh, the shame…
My German lessons are coming along slowly but surely. Right now I’m studying workplace conversation. As you can imagine, it’s coming in very handy. I was taught that one must always state an occupation when asked, “What do you do?” It is inappropriate to simply respond, “I don’t work.” I was not very happy to learn that a stay-at-home mom is called a “Haus Frau.” For some reason it stings my ears. I’d much rather say, “Ich bin Rentnerin” (I’m retired). My German teacher was not amused.
(Before you begin to think that the Germans lack a sense of humor, take a close look at the gargoyle on the left from the cathedral in Freiburg, Germany)
So far the conversational German hasn’t helped me with my everyday needs as a Haus Frau. For instance, I still can’t read a menu when I’m out having lunch. One day I took my cousins to a restaurant and I could barely recognize anything on the menu. Amy and Ben played it safe and ordered the two things that were recognizable on the menu: tomato soup and a club sandwich. Apparently they read my blog and realized that they better not rely on me for translation skills. I ordered something that said carpaccio. I decided I didn’t need to know all the other superfluous information. What more do I need to know about carpaccio? Bring on the meat. Well, when a giant plate of thinly sliced headcheese (gelatinized pork) was placed before me, I realized that maybe I did need to know those other words!
Just in case you were beginning to think I’m a complete disaster, I can proudly report that I have been improving my French skills. A few hours before I was supposed to meet my cousin at the train station in Basel, I got a flat tire in France (I’m still a disaster with other things, but this segment is about language). After I called Ken at work to drag him down into my state of hysteria, I composed myself and dealt with the problem. I was relieved to discover that the roadside service operator spoke English. But just so I wouldn’t stay too calm, he sent me a text message in German – not helpful. A few minutes later a French-speaking mechanic called to ask for my location. I think I did pretty well. Never mind that I spoke French like a two-year-old. At least I made it home!
Francophile
I don’t understand why France gets a bad rap sometimes. People always talk about how rude the French are. Maybe if those same people lived in Switzerland for a while they’d find the French to be as warm and inviting as I do. It’s not that the Swiss are unfriendly. They just don’t display emotion as openly as other cultures. I’ve grown accustomed to ignoring passersby while walking down the street in Basel. So it always takes me by surprise when I’m in France and a stranger pleasantly belts out, “Bonjour!” Oh, that’s right. I’m actually allowed to say hello to people there.
In the stores, French shopkeepers appear happy to have your business. I know the salespeople are probably fixated on my wallet. But if I’m going to spend a lot of money, I want some “ooh la la’s” and “trés biens” out of the deal. More importantly, as a consumer, I appreciate the little white lies that are created to make me feel more comfortable about parting with my money, “Ah oui, your French is very good!” Isn’t that in itself worth the price of ridiculously expensive shoes?
Play Time
I’m not the only one who suffers from not knowing how to speak German. Due to the language barrier, making local friends has been a challenge for Larry and Nina. It’s unclear whether the communication gap is responsible for the other kids’ unfriendliness or if the Swiss kids are just plain bullies. All I know is that words are often exchanged with limited skill from both sides. At the park, Larry attempted to communicate with the local kids by miming, “We. Come. In. Peace. We. Are. Not. Here. To. Destroy. You.” That didn’t go over very well because the other kids came back with bats, a bag of rocks and a jar of bees! Maybe we need to work on Larry’s German skills too.
What the?
Sometimes it’s hard to know if something is strange because it’s a foreign custom that I’m unfamiliar with or if I’m just in the presence of someone weird. One day my mother-in-law and I were having lunch at a small café outside when a woman pointed to the empty seat at our table and said something in Swiss German. I assumed she wanted to take the chair so I nodded my head, “yes.” To our surprise, the woman plopped herself down to join us and ordered something from the waiter. As if that weren’t awkward enough, she started to pull out a pack of cigarettes. Not only did she crash our lunch, she was planning to smoke us out too! Fortunately the look on our faces kept her at bay because she refrained from lighting up in our presence. She did, however, manage to further shock us when she brought two more friends over to our already crowded space. We were now a party of five sharing a cozy table. Eating lunch with three strangers wasn’t a huge tragedy. I finally found a bright side to the language barrier – I wasn’t distracted by their conversation.
European Medicine
We finally got to experience the part of the country that immediately comes to mind when one thinks of Switzerland – snow-capped mountains, waterfalls, wildflowers, cows grazing on hillsides with jangling bells around their necks, chalets with geraniums spilling out of window boxes, and mountain streams rushing down into the valley below. Nina summed it up best when she said, “Could it get any better!” Actually, that was her reaction when she spotted a playground and a big mound of snow in the mountain town of Mürren. But I’d like to think she actually appreciated the other aspects of our adventure.
Alas, Nina’s joy was short-lived as usual. This time we earned our “evil parents of the year” award by not taking her to the miniature golf course that was across from the playground. “If you don’t let me play golf I’ll be unhappy for the rest of my life!” (There’s no shortage of drama in the Goldman house.) Fortunately, cranky moods can easily be shifted by something else shiny and new. In this case, it was the promise of ice cream at the outdoor café. Plus a little something for mom and dad…
Yes, traveling with kids can often be challenging. For every fabulous moment, Ken and I must endure many painful ones (whining, fighting, crying). Luckily, alcohol is in ample supply everywhere we go – cafés, parks, sausage stands, zoos, museums. Europeans know that a glass of alcohol in a beautiful setting does wonders for the soul, or at least for battered parents. Now that’s a part of their culture I can really embrace!
Here are some, “Happy Ken Moments.”
Exerpts from Larry’s Journal
“Today was a great day full of monkeys! … A mother monkey thought I was trying to attack [her baby] so it tried to pull my shirt! I was strong enough to push the monkey away. I didn’t want to feed that monkey anymore!” May 23, 2009
“I went on a bike ride today and it was really fun. I went around Basel, a little bit of Germany and a little bit of France. It was very pretty…All I could hear was the sound of the bike and the voices of my dad and I.” April 25, 2009
Excerpts from Nina’s Journal
“I went to an indoor pool today and it had a water slide. I had a spectacular time. The slide was super super fun. I zoomed down the slide speedy quick. They also kept the pool nice and warm but not too warm. It is a brilliant pool place.” April 16, 2009
“Today I went on a long random walk. I saw so many amazing things. There really were just so many things there to see. At one point we saw a little house where some old man used to live ALONE! It was so small.” May 10, 2009
“Today I went to an extraordinary mountain…There was snow and it was hot [outside]!!!! And near the snow there was an amazing park and also a golf course. And then I got a Heidi doll! It was just amazing.” May 21, 2009
[this is good] I had so much fun reading May's blog. It's even more fun to read after a visit to Switzerland. I'd also like to add that the Swiss make a mean tomato soup :)
Posted by: Amy Enos | 05/30/2009 at 07:57 AM