Blue Blizzard, Black Avalanche, Grey Thunder, and the Abominable Snowman

This weekend I went skiing in Davos, Switzerland with a couple of my friends: Blue Blizzard (Michi) and Grey Thunder (Rene). There was a fourth member in the group, but seeing as she decided to remove herself from the weekend almost entirely, I shall remove mention of her in my blog. I (Black Avalanche, of course) wish I could begin to describe the amount of fun that we managed to pack into one weekend, but I shall do my best.

Grey Thunder, Blue Blizzard, Black Avalanche

Davos is a small ski town in the south-eastern part of Switzerland in the Canton of Graubunden. Unlike skiing in the USA, in Switzerland you only ski the mountaintops. If you're skiing below tree line then you're on a catwalk going home because all the action happens at the top of the mountain. When you first get to the ski resport in the morning you take a gondala or a train halfway up the mountain until you are above tree line and then you get on another ski lift to go to the summit. Once you are at the top, the mountain is your playground. Of course there are marked off areas where the snow has been grommed, but for the adventurous type you can "color outside the lines" and ski the powder inbetween. Luckily for us it snowed the entire day before and there were blue skies the whole weekend. Powder. Sunshine. Priceless.


Jakobshorn

Also unlike Colorado, which is pretty amazing I have to admit, there is something Switzerland has that Colorado just can't compete with - Mountains. And they aren't just any mountains - they are Alps. The Alps make the Rockies look like bunny hills. When we reached the top of the mountain we had a 360 degree panoramic view of the Alps as far as the eye could see. The pictures don't do justice.


Jakobshorn

Jakobshorn

Parsenn

Parsenn

Parsenn

I can't describe the feeling of skiing down the mountain surrounded by the most breathtaking scenery I have ever seen. I felt so small, yet I felt like I could still conquer the world. It was hard not to forget about where I was skiing and get lost imagining myself jumping from mountaintop to mountaintop. It was a good thing I could still focus on the ski slope at hand in my peripheral vision so I didn't crash into anyone. I had a couple minor Unfallen but nothing that I couldn't laugh about. The texture of the snow was incredible. I don't think I've skiied so hard or so fast in years. Just ask Michi and Rene - I was able to keep up with the boys!

The first day of skiing we went to Jakobshorn. The weather was amazing - blue skies, fresh powder, but -17 degrees celsius which is 1 degree fahrenheit. Pretty chilly, but we packed warm clothes and it didn't slow us down. The only thing that slowed us down was when the Abominable Snowman came and stole my cell phone. It all happened so fast I didn't know what happened until right before lunch I realized that my phone wasn't in my pocket anymore. I guess he needed to call the Lockness Monster or his blury friend Bigfoot. The second day was warmer and we decided to go to a different mountain - Parsenn. It was quite a bit more windy than Jakobshorn so every inch of our bodies were covered up, however nothing kept us from having a complete blast!


Michi, Me, Rene



Michi

Me

Rene, Michi, Me

And God ended the day with a beautiful sunset!

Schnupfen und Halsschmerzen

Ich habe Schnupfen und Halsscmerzen. Ich mochte im Bett bleiben aber ich muss arbeiten. This translates to: I have a stuffy nose and sore throat. I want to stay in bed but I have to work.

Today is a cozy day. I woke up after a night of congestion and coughing to find a pleasant surprise - it was snowing. After making a cup of Chamomile tea mit Honig (with honey), I sat down at the breakfast table cuddling my mug and watched the snowflakes dance their way to the ground. It must have either been extra cold or extra dry in the air because the snowflakes were big and fluffy. I'm pretty sure instead of shoveling the sidewalk you could have swept the snow off the sidewalks...or taken a leaf blower if you were feeling boisterous. It was snowing so hard that you couldn't even see the lake from the window and on any other given day you can see all the way to the other side between the pine tree and the house in front of our building. I know it doesn't look like it in the picture, but it was snowing pretty hard!


The view out of the front porch

One thing about Switzerland that has perplexed me is the occurrence of shoveling snow. I think Switzerland has little invisible elves that shovel the snow because I have never seen anyone with a shovel, yet the sidewalks are always snow free. Perhaps I am highly unobservant or the entire town of Kusnacht has heated sidewalks, but either way, I like to believe that there are wee little men that run around shoveling the snow before anyone can see them. Perhaps one day I will catch them in the act. I hope they have bells on their shoes.

So due to the fact the my entire apartment is quarantined as a result of every facet of winter cold symptoms that exist being passed around the four members of the apartment, I had a fairly mellow week thus far. I have yet to successfully take a nap in the afternoon, however, because something unexpected alwasys comes up or right when I lay my head down the two year old decides he's had enough sleep and wants attention. Either way, every day this week so far has been a pajama day...which feeds my soul. There aren't many jobs in this world that you can do while sick in your PJs and I just so happen to have landed one of those positions. (It's amazing how much energy a child can have while sick.) I'm hoping that the worst is behind me and I'll be healthy for the weekend...but I won't tell you why. It's a secret for another post!

Foreign Romance

It always starts with a glance. A quick momentary encounter that catches your attention and you just can't seem to focus on anything else. Something about it draws you in and your mind gets enveloped in thoughts of "forever." Then something snaps you back into reality and you try to shove the thoughts into the depths of your memory. But no matter how hard you try, there's that lurking feeling that stays in the consciousness of your mind and slowly creeps its way into your daydreams when you let your mind wander. It's the feeling of curiosity, the feeling of "what if...", and for a split second you think that if you just gave into the temptation you would find everything you were looking for. You yearn to discover the unknown, the adventure, the risk.

Switzerland has captured my attention. I can't describe what this city does to me, but when I'm walking around the streets looking at the architecture, evesdropping on conversations I pretend I understand, and smelling the aromas of cheese, chocolate, and roasted chestnuts my heart begins to race and I feel like I have the world at my fingertips. Even when I am sitting at the kitchen table looking out of the window over the balcony and across the lake to the other side, I feel like I'm looking at a still photograph. The only sign of life I can see is the train across the lake that looks like it's weaving through the houses like a boxcar train in some elaborate basement setup. Even though I have already been here for three months I still have to remind myself "You live here."

I know that after living in a new place for a while you usually get used to how things are and the characteristics that give the place a personality. The things that make the place unique transform into the norm and quickly get forgotten. Mountain landscapes become permanent backdrops, palm trees become just another tree, and the beach becomes a regular hangout. I hope this never happens to Switzerland. I hope the narrow walkeways, the ancient architecture and the secrets the city holds remain a mystery that never unfolds. I never want to walk down a cobblestone sidewalk and not marvel at the repeating arc pattern. I never want to hear church bells ring and not hold my breath because I can feel the vibrations beating in my chest. I hope I always feel like I'm honeymooning with Switzerland.

The Reformation Church

Right now the 7pm Saturday night bells from the Reformation Church up the street are ringing and I've opened all three of my windows so the sound can bounce off my walls and envelop my bedroom. And the best part is that the Catholic Church, also just up the street, plays its bells right after the Reformation Church. So for 15 minutes straight the only sound I hear is the chiming of the bells reminding me that I am 9,000 miles away from home in the cutest Swiss town in the middle of Europe.

Raclette Cheese Melting...YUM!

Today I went with my host family to look at the Christmas market in Old Town Zurich. I felt like I stepped into 1876 and was getting a rare glance at the "life of the natives" - except it was overly crowded with people talking on their iPhones and buying various treats and treasures for of the overly commercialized holiday expectations. The Christmas Market - oder Weinachts Markt auf Deutsch - is the closest thing you can find to a famers market (or Pike's Place Market for my Seattle audience). Little 10ft. x 10ft. wooden huts (meters?...what?) side by side line the streets and are filled with every art craft, baked good, woven and knitted garment you could possibly think of. Jewlery, scarves, incense, cuttlery, candles, cookies, bread....you name it and I'm sure you can find a booth that sells it. Some things are over-priced (as is most of Switzerland), but some things are an absolute steal. No matter what, you can always count on each booth having something unique that sets it apart from the other neighboring booths. The only booth we stopped at was for Raclette, a traditional Swiss delite of melted Raclette cheese atop potatoes or bread. While high in calorie and fat content, there is nothing that warms the stomach and cheese-lovers heart like Raclette. Following the Raclette we had French Crepes. Filled with the best European melted chocolate and wrapped in a soft fluffy crepe is a big smile, full stomach, and a smile.

Tonight I am hitting the city with another Au Pair whose friend has just flown into town from Seattle. I wonder what romantic experience I might have with Switzerland tonight. This country sure knows how to impress a girl...

Naughty or Nice?

Alpine Village Bakery

When I was growing up I had wonderful parents that played the part of St. Nicholas and Santa Claus. Every year on December 5th my family would get together with another family and celebrate St. Nicholas Eve. We would sit on the floor of the living room around the coffee table and eat appetizer-type goodies of the winter nature (don't ask about the correlation) while listening to festive music in the background. After eating we would read the story of the original St. Nicholas and then play games. Later that night when it was time to go to bed, my brother, sister and I would put our shoes outside of our bedroom doors and the next morning each of us would find a special gift. On the off chance the dog didn't tear everything to shreds trying to get to the chocolate shoved in the toes of the shoes, my brother always got a Smoker and a large piece of coal, my sister always got a Nutcracker and a medium piece of coal, and I always got a piece of the Alpine Village china collection...and maybe a little coal too. The gift was to reward us for being good children and the coal was to symbolize all of our wrong-doings that we committed over the past year.

Switzerland does things a little different. Let me introduce you to Samichlaus (pronounced Sammy -claus) and Schmutzli (pronounced Sh-mm-uu-zz-lee). Samichlaus is the equivalent of the American idea of St. Nicholas. He wears a red robe, has a long white beard, jolly smile, and big bag of toys. He comes to the children bearing gifts and smiles and jolly good times like the Santa Claus we all love. Schmutzli, on the other hand, is Samichlaus' sinister demon possessed companion based on a child abductor from the late 1400s. Wait...what? Yep. In Switzerland, if you behaved badly, Schmutzli, dressed in a black cloak, would come kidnap you, put you in a burlap sack and carry you off into the forest. In some areas of Switzerland the children are told that they would be dumped into a river to drown. Oh, and did I forget to mention his broom made twigs for administering physical punishment to children who behaved sub-par? Ahhhh, nothing spreads Holiday Spirit like striking fear and terror in the eyes of young children.


Samichlaus



Schmutzli

I don't know about you, but a legendary tale like this one might not have as much inspired me to behave better as it probably would have just given me nightmares as a child. I did, after all, have nightmares for two weeks after seeing the movie Jumanji (there are some seriously large spiders towards the end). As an "interim third parent" to a youngin' myself, I wouldn't dare risk telling the story of Schmutzli on the slight chance it might improve the boy's behavior (surely to last for the better part of 20 minutes) for sheer fear that the tale would invade the poor boy's dreams and keep me up half the night protecting him from the Swiss Boogieman with a holiday nuance. It's a good thing he's only two and his attention span for the story would last through "There once was a man..." before he yelled "Shhtop!" and told me to build him a tunnel for his trains instead.

Nevertheless, it's interesting to learn about how the holidays are celebrated in different cultures. I think that each new tradition I learn about is a window into the minds and workings of the Swiss. No wonder they are stereotyped into be perfect and rigid sometimes - they were raised thinking that they would become the cast of Blair Witch Project if they didn't! All goes to say...I don't think this is a tradition I will pass on to my hypothetical future children. 

Getting Lost in Zurich

Most of you who know me wouldn't be surprised to hear I got lost in Zurich. In fact, most of you wouldn't put it past me to get lost in Ikea (but in my defense that place is a maze). Although it would make a funny blog story and an interesting memory, I didn't get lost in Zurich today. Well, not in the way you would typically think.

This morning I got lost in Zurich like you can get lost in a good book (not the Lifetime movie version). It's the kind of feeling when you are completely surrounded by adventure, you're the only person in the whole world and you wouldn't mind it lasting forever.

Fresh Snow in Kusnacht

After getting about 7cm of fresh snow last night (which is really only about 2 inches but sounds like more when I write it in centimeters), life just seemed like a fresh, clean slate. All the leftover fall leaves, the muddy grass from the previous weeks of rain, and the lack of green plants were all covered with snow. And not just any kind of snow - snowball snow. People who are snow savvy (I'm talking to you, Colorado) know that snowball snow is the best kind. Not so dry that it just blows straight into your face with the slightest breeze and not so wet that it's just melting sleet. I'm talking about grab-your-snowpants-and-build-a-snowman snow. So I grabbed my boots and headed into the city.

Old Town Zurich

My destination - Old Town Zurich. Just east of the Limmat River is a twisty turning maze of cobblestone streets and tiny boutiques. Come to think of it, it probably wouldn't be unrealistic for me to actually get lost there one of these days. The walls on either side of these one-lane narrow streets are so high that you feel like Alice in Wonderland walking through a tunnel. You never know what sight you might see just around the corner or if it will just come to a sudden dead end.

Well lucky for me, just around the corner was Starbucks. Now, before you judge me for entering an American chain in the heart of amazing European cafes, let me explain that after being in a foreign country for three months, American chains are as close to home as I can get. When I walk through the door let me make myself clear that all the Swiss people become the foreigners who are speaking the wrong language - not the other way around. And yes, I will order my Grande five pump soy chai with no water and no foam at 180 degrees in English.

Starbucks (bottom right corner)

After ordering a Grande Gingerbread Latte (I changed it up) and being quickly reminded of my current European location when I had to shell out 8.40 Swiss Francs, I plopped myself down at a table with my laptop and proceeded to upload my new photos from the morning stroll. It wasn't long after I sat down that the guy sitting across from me, also on his computer, said something to me...and it was English! His name is Michael and he's traveling through Europe on his way home to Virginia from Japan. So what do you know, I'm not the only one who thinks of Starbucks as a US Embasy. I thoroughly enjoyed my liquid gingerbread cookie while swaping travel stories with what I like to pretend is a lifetime of Swiss knowledge and experience. I think I'll make this Starbucks my new default.