Cheese.

My host parents and I talk about cheese a lot.  Debates about whether hard cheese or soft cheese is better, whether the cheese we just ate tastes more like nuts or more like herbs, etc.  And tonight we had raclette (a traditional Swiss dish of melted cheese and potatoes and such, but different than fondue in its preparation) so there was all kinds of opportunities to talk about cheese.  I like when conversation turns to food...that's a universal language for me!  It's easy enough to say "Oui, j'aime bien!" or "Non, n'est pas plus bon que l'autre." or my personal favorite: "J'aime tout le frommage!"  I am well aware that grammatically these may not all be accurate,  but it gets the point across.

Today's "wine hike" in St. Saphorin (a 20 minute train ride from Nyon)

TOMORROWTOMORROWTOMORROWTOMORROW.
Tomorrow I go to Ireland to see JENN.  I am beyond excited.  I am like the dog, getting all wiggly at the idea.  It's a little embarrassing.  Today a few of us went on a day hike with stops along the way for wine tasting (I swear, it's programmed into the hike.  I'm not lying!) and all I could talk about was a) how gorgeous the view was and b) how excited I was to go visit Jenn.

SO.  EXCITED.



P.S.  The internet is loving me today, so I added some pictures to old blogs.  Feel free to check it out if you're so inclined.

There are chances or choices

Today's blog title brought to you by Justin Vernon (of Bon Iver fame).  Please listen to his song "A Song for A Lover of Long Ago."  It will devastate you in the best way possible.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpYKtirbA7E  When I listen to it, I think of all the people and places (primarily places.  I don't know if that's weird but oh well) who hold pieces of my heart.


Surprise!  I'm done with class for the semester!  Well, it's not a surprise, but it is surprising that this time has come so fast.  When I look back at our first few weeks in Geneva, it feels like a year ago.  And yet, it also seems like a sick joke that two months have passed.  It can't possibly have been two months!  I know everyone has experienced this type of feeling before, so I won't wax poetic, but whoa.

I basically only have one month left in Europe.  November is my last month in Switzerland before we transfer to Croatia for the last little bit of the semester.  And then?  December 8th.  Phoenix.  It seems like a world away, looming like some great monster and some great hope at once.  Of course I'm excited to see my friends and family again.  Of course I miss Mexican food and moccasins and dressing like a slob without instantly being labelled as an outsider.

But this semester, it has felt like my life has been on pause.  When I think of PLU, I imagine my little yellow house exactly the same way.  I expect everyone to still be friends with the same people, dating the same people, going to the same parties.  In my head, nothing has changed.  I know this isn't true, that life has gone on, and this kind of scares me.  Back in February, when I came back from a month of being away, there were so many things that had changed.  And they were all BIG changes.  Ones that altered the rest of the year.  Now with four months?  I can't even imagine the potential for differences.  Denial is powerful.  I can't help but believe that the boat is unrocked, that I will be able to step comfortably back into the swing of things without the slightest adjustment.

And yet, I am growing so much (and so fast) here.  I have become much more serious about my focus.  The word that I feel describes me now is HUNGRY.  I am hungry to learn more and more about the world.  I am hungry to become a part of the international community.  I am ravenous to make a difference.  I have become much more flexible and relaxed.  I've learned that control is for people who can afford it.  Me?  I live in a society where I can't understand the language most of the time.  I had to let go of desperately seeking to understand and become more of a sponge.  And guess what?  I understand what is being said in French about 80% of the time now.  It's crazy!  (My ability to speak it is more at 7%, however.  If that.)  But the point is that living in a new place, with a new family, with a new group of people, has really taught me to let go of my personal insecurities and fears.  I am who I am.  If people want me - if they like me - they can have me, just as I am.  If not?  I have all the love I could possibly ask for waiting for me in the states.

And so, here I am.  Flying where the wind takes me.  Living life at full speed while on pause.  Now, I throw myself headfirst into the Independent Study Period of my semester.  I will not have a single scheduled activity, other than interviews I set up on my own.  I will be researching like a banshee and writing like a machine in order to turn out a 30 page paper by Thanksgiving.  Oh yeah, and I'll be relaxing and traveling and having an awesome time.  My two big scheduled trips so far are to Ireland and Norway (to visit Jenn and Katie, respectively).  I am out of my mind excited to see them!!!  Other than that?  Hopefully a bunch of day trips around Switzerland!  The more of Switzerland I see, the more I become convinced that all other countries cannot possibly be as gorgeous.

Au revoir!

New Worlds for the Weary

"[...] New lands for the living
I could make it if I tried
I closed my eyes I kept on swimming..."

Once again: name that tune utilized in the blog title! (And once again, Josh Ritter narrates my life.)

I was originally going to post this tonight and then I thought I shouldn't because I should really go to bed but then I uploaded pictures to facebook and my heart got all swelled with love for the mountains and I needed it to overflow into the blogosphere and the point is I'm here now.  I think any teacher I've ever had would be really proud of that sentence I just put together.

This last weekend I, along with three other friends from the program, went to Grindelwald.  Grindelwald (not to be confused with Gimelwald) is a small village in the German region of Switzerland.  It's nestled into a valley between some of the most stunning mountains in the world (in my opinion) including the Eiger and the Jungfrau.  The town itself is so picturesque it makes you a little nauseous.  In a good way, of course.  There are cows everywhere with bells around their necks and so many gorgeous trees and mountains and wooden houses and it's generally stunning.

Day 1:

We woke up VERY EARLY to catch the 5:50 am train out of Nyon and arrived in Grindelwald around 9:30 am.  We dropped off our stuff at our deserted hostel (they're in between summer and winter seasons right now, so it's pretty empty in town) and headed off on our first hike on the Bussalp trail (now you can google maps it, Daddy).  We all started off together, and were quickly breathing very heavily and shedding layers upon layers of clothing.  Fiona and Elisabeth decided to split off and take the baby trail to the top, which led them on a gently winding, paved road that climbed on a slight incline up the mountain.  Jack and I, however, decided to carry on and headed straight up the valley at about a 50 degree incline.  It was brutal and I was whiny and slow and generally dying, but Jack was patient and the views were incredible at every step.

We finally got to the top and met up with the other girls.  They had been at the restaurant for 45 minutes and had barely broken a sweat on their hike.  Meanwhile I could literally wipe straight up salt off my forehead from the sweat.  Yum.  We had a late lunch, went back to the hostel, showered, hung out, and then went to a place called Uncle Tom's Cabin (I kid you not) for dinner.  Afterwards we played on a playground and then went to bed early.

We hiked right up through this valley.  Very steep and VERY beautiful.

Day 2:


Fiona left us to go see her grandparents in Bern, so the three of us continued without our translator (Fiona is bilingual in English and Swiss German.  Very helpful.).  Pretty soon after waking up, we began our adventures of the second day.

Elisabeth decided to have a leisurely day: relax and then take the train up the mountain and meet us at the Jungfrau.  Jack and I, however, were feeling ambitious.  We took a train to Alpiglen and there began our ascent of the Eiger trail.  This trail was not as brutal as the one the day before because although it was super steep in places, there were also flat sections to temper it.

The Eiger.  The Eiger the Eiger the North Face of the Eiger.  I don't even know what to say.  We hiked along the base of it for a solid three hours, always keeping it on our left as we made our way towards Eigergletscher.  It is really an imposing piece of rock.  It blocked the sun (there are worse places to be than in the shadow of the Eiger) and loomed over us the entire hike.  It reminded me of my mortality and my infinite nature at once.  It's the kind of mountain that you look at and lose sense of yourself.  You see it, and you can't hear your belabored breathing anymore.  All you can hear is the silence of this mountain.  The dignified silence of a beast that needs no words to make itself understood.  Unreal.

The beast.  The Eiger.

Once we made our way to Eigergletscher (climbing from 1615 m to 2320 m), we waited around for a cogwheel to take us to the Jungfraujoch.  The Jungfrau is pretty famous and is known often by it's moniker "The Top of Europe."  Because we got there so late in the day and because it isn't peak season, we were fortunate enough to not have to dodge a million tourists.  So we wandered around and saw some spectacular views of snow and mountains and the world below.

Sometimes I just have to stop and remind myself how lucky I am.  From Arizona to Colorado to Washington to Italy to China to Argentina to Antarctica to Switzerland...I am so grateful for the opportunities I have been given and for the world I have seen.  It is so immense and so full of grace and warmth and austerity and sincerity and reality and and and and.  It's my true love, the one which will never change and will never love me back and for that I am eternally indebted.  There's something about being so insignificant in your surroundings that just fills me with such a sense of relief and wonder that it can sometimes be overwhelming.  I felt this often in Antarctica and felt it again this weekend.

I keep telling myself: Just stop to look up.  Stop to recognize where you are, what your surroundings are whispering to you.  Where is home?  Where is your heart?  Where is your mind?  Who are you?  Who are you when it is just you and the mountain, and nothing is expected of you?  And the most beautiful moment: when all of that ceases to matter and it's only your heartbeat in the shadow of the mountain.

I'm Feeling Something for the Constellations...

In case you're ever confused by my titles, they are often song lyrics.  Clever, I know.  This one is from a Josh Ritter song (I'm so predictable sometimes) called "Right Moves."  There's a line in which he asks "Did you look up at the stars / and feel something for the constellations?"  And my response right now is a resounding yes.

I have been remiss in blogging, so pretend I just returned from a week long adventure in which I visited Brussels, Paris, and Nice! (This actually happened two weeks ago, and I will talk about this past weekend in a separate post.) There is SO MUCH to say, but I think it would be unfortunate to have a mile long blog post, so I'm going to try to limit myself.

Brussels:

Brussels is a quirky little city with a distinct personality.  It is famous for it's chocolate, waffles, beer, and the statue of the peeing boy.  I can assure you that the former three are indeed delicious, and the latter is small and very strange.

While in Brussels, we attended briefings at the European Commission (this was a school excursion, after all) and then pretty much wandered around the city for the rest of the visit.  I swear I traipsed from one end of that city to the other and saw every building in between.  My favorite was the Cathedral de Saint Michel et Gudula.  It's an absolutely stunning place.  When we first wandered in, it was Sunday night and there was a service going on in which (I think) they were installing a new priest, which meant that we got to see the bishop!  Plus the organ was pretty cool.  I ended up going to that cathedral three times.  One of these times was for a free organ concert in which the most incredible choir sang.  It was awesome.

On a less holy note, we also "visited" another famous Belgian establishment: Delirium.  In case you haven't heard of it it's a bar that has 2,004 or more beers at any given time.  The fun part is that you can order it in a boot, which is a liter of beer (which is A LOT to have in front of you at one time) in a glass shaped like a boot.  This led to some classic "Das Boot" jokes.  Of course.

We also went to the Royal Art Museum, ate moules frites (mussels and french fries, a Brussels classic) and generally enjoyed ourselves.

Brussels is kooky.

Paris:


I'm going to admit something right now: I didn't think I was going to like Paris.  It seemed way too hyped.  I mean, the most romantic city, the city of lights, so on and so forth.  I figured it couldn't possibly live up to it, and it was going to seem very fake and contrived in it's efforts to do so.

This is not the case.  I found Paris very genuine and I absolutely LOVED IT.  My program, in another wonderful stroke, got us a hotel literally across the street from the Moulin Rouge.  The Moulin Rouge is mildly glamorous, but it is also in the middle of a working sex district.  It was amusing and shocking to walk out of the subway and end up in the middle of this.  Eye opening!

I saw the big sights in Paris, of course, which was lovely.  The Eiffel Tower, Champs Elysees, Arc de Triomphe, Louvre, Notre Dame, Sacre Coeur, etc.  I think my favorite was the Sacre Coeur.  It's at the top of this massive hill, so you have to climb a million and a half stairs to get there, but standing on the steps gives you an incredible view of Paris.  Plus the inside of the cathedral was just stunning.  I may be in the minority, but I liked it better than the Notre Dame.

Another fun aspect of the trip to Paris was seeing my old friend from Phoenix, Adam.  We had facebooked each other about our respective locations (he's studying in France this semester) and we planned to meet up in Paris.  He and I (plus a few kids from my program and his friend, Rose) went to dinner together and we caught up.  It was such a strange thing to see someone so very clearly reminiscent of years past while in a foreign place.  A strange dichotomy, but a fun one.

I was a little amused to realize that most of my associations with Paris were from the movie "Ratatouille."  I don't know if I should be embarrassed to admit it or not, but it is what it is.

Totally Ratatouille, no?  The view from the Sacre Coeur cathedral.

I'm sorry I just blazed through everything, but if you want to hear the mile-long story of the whole week, just e-mail me or something.  I don't want to burden the blogosphere with all the details!


Hopefully I'll post about this weekend sometime tonight...