I forgot to mention in my last post that I finally did run into a tram ticket inspector just after receiving my day pass. I was so glad I knew to validate it in the machine before climbing into the tram. The inspectors are in plain clothes. The guy looked like anyone else as we climbed aboard. However, after the tram got underway he announced that he needed to see tickets and began checking. No wonder everyone is so good about buying a ticket!
With my hobbling gait, crossing a street becomes a pretty big deal. The most elderly residents here go zooming past me. Since my accident, I'm even more terrified of passing cars, bicycles, baby carriages and kids on skateboards. An especially interesting place is Aeschenplatz, a crossroads where I must get off the tram for school. It's hard to describe. Five roads intersect there as do six different tram lines and a couple of buses. In fact, my stop is exactly in the middle of the square. To get to the sidewalk, I have to cross two tram lines and two streets. The trams run about every two minutes, so you have to really look sharp both ways. The crossings on the street are protected by yellow-striped crossings which (apparently) require drivers to stop for a pedestrian in the crossing. Most of them stop if one even seems to be stepping off the curb, but they really are flying (relative to pedestrians) when they come up to the intersection. When you consider that the curb is only an inch about street level here, it makes you feel a little vulnerable. I'm sure I'll get used to it. Little children navigate these streets every day with no apparent problem. I'm sure in a few weeks I'll get used to having a tram six inches from my shoulder, but just now it's unsettling.
The tram system is very intricate and far-reaching. It covers an area within about a 30-mile circumference around Basel, and you may travel anywhere in that area for the same monthly price. The paper was asking whether a city pass ought to be offered. If it's cheaper, I think it would be a good idea. Many people travel only a stop or two beyond the reduced-price "short stretch" distance of three stops. The trams are very narrow, allowing them to squeeze by each other on the narrow streets. They really do look like caterpillars climbing all over the city. Most people seem to use them, and they are a great way to get around if you don't have (or can't safely ride) a bicycle. They are electric, by the way. I don't know yet what the main source of electric power is here, so I can't say what the environmental impact is. I can, I think, safely say the if we were to add all the autos the trams replace to the streets, no one would ever get anywhere in Basel. Thank God for trams!
I may not be speedy, but I get around. My day began with a full pack as I set out to run any number of important errands. Monday I have no classes (inconceivable, but true!), so I have time to get stuff done and plan for later in the week. Fridays I work until five o'clock. Anyway, I tightened up my brace, grabbed a crutch and set off at a snail's pace. Even snails arrive sooner or later.
First stop, my mailbox. The long-awaited important rental agreement was in there. Hurray! Now I could get my residence card which is, like our driver's license, the necessary piece of identification one needs to do almost anything business-related. I set off for City Hall. On the way, I ran into a neighbor I had already spoken to. She has a golden retriever named Wanda and a granddaughter named Cheyenne (really!). Cheyenne is only a month older than our granddaughter Elanor, so naturally I'm drawn to this little group. Doris (the neighbor) is kind enough to let me pet Wanda to my heart's content.
At City Hall I drew a very nice lady from the three available employees. She very expertly typed up my information including my address Stateside, marital status, parents' names and passport number. I showed her my birth certificate, marriage certificate, work permit, gave her two photos and paid CHF 20. Not once did she ask for the rental agreement. Go figure. Geli and I had the same sort of experience at the driver's license office back home. Bureaucracy is the same everywhere, I guess. Anyway, the permit comes in a day or two. Then I can purchase a monthly tram pass which, everyone advises me, should be my new best form of transportation. It will certainly be a lot faster than my feet are at present.
One of the rewards for successfully registering your presence in the city of Binningen is two day-passes for the tram. I was really excited to get those. I had about four trips in view, and that would cost CHF 12 without the pass. Still, I wondered what the point was as I climbed on the tram. I hadn't seen a tram officer since I arrived.
I found my way to the market square where I was told there would be a "Fiehlmann" optomotrist. That's the one that advertises the most on TV. Sure enough, there it was. It was a two-story business, and the line for repairs was practically out the door. Still, I was in no shape to come back another day. The line moved right along with three people working it, though. While I waited, I noticed an old man outside on an Amigo cart. None of the stores are really handicapped accessible, and since I'm now handicapped, I'm pretty interested to see how this works. He had a bulbous rubber horn on the cart which he honked. A clerk came and opened the door for him. I think he was served out on the pavement, but they may have done something else. I don't know. My turn was up. I showed the clerk my mangled glasses which she expertly hammered back into shape, no charge. If you need glasses in Basel, go to Fiehlmann and tell them I sent you.
I bought a sandwich for later and headed off to school. I'm often confused about which direction to go, but I've learned to just hop a tram to the next big transfer station and try again. Works pretty well. Then I had to ask directions a few times, but I finally found my school. Everyone was really impressed as I held my crutch over my head and walked around. I have to impress them--I want to do my foods classes this week. I need to get my feet wet while half the school is off on trips. Next week it's a full schedule with no holds barred. I had lunch and got some stuff run off. I checked the kitchen and noted sadly that the lettuce I had purchased last week was going bad. I'll have to buy some more before class on Thursday. I threw other stuff in the freezer to save it. Most can be rescued. At least some of the lettuce got used by another teacher. I left my desk in good order (finally) and my mind clear for teaching tomorrow. With some familiarity with the school now, I'm more relaxed than I was. I think classes will go well.
I was almost ready to go home, but another problem had presented itself. My scraped hand is becoming infected. Susan tsked tsked and set me down in the lunch room for a little first aid. She was a girl scout leader, too, it turns out. She did a bang-up job and advised me to go to Migros (the ubiquitous chain grocery and everything else store) to get some first aid stuff. I was whipped, but she was right. I headed off.
It's a little unnerving to watch elderly people with canes pass you by as you hobble along. They all smiled at me like we shared a membership in an exclusive club. I guess we do. Many of them have canes; they just use them to better effect. Eighty-five year old ladies who barely come to my shoulder can whiz right past me.
One thing you notice when you are walking so slowly is the huge number of people in this town. The population is really dense. People, bicycles, cars and motorcycles all crush into the street at the same time. Through it all dozens of trams snake along the streets like brightly colored caterpillars. They are very narrow and pass so close together I don't think a skateboard could fit between. During the busy hours of the day, you are never more than about two feet from someone else.
You would think the city would be noisy, but it really isn't. It isn't half so noisy as a U.S. suburb. I figured that out the other day. The buildings are very close together and absorb a lot of sound. Since people are never far from each other, they don't need to raise their voices to talk to each other. The city hums rather than roaring. New York is a harsh clang interspersed with car horns. Basel is a beehive with cheerful trolley bells and chiming churches. Had it not been so warm and me so tired, it would have been quite pleasant.
I think I got off at the wrong tram stop or something--I couldn't find the first grocery I used near my house. Finally I turned around and retraced about 10 minutes of walking to follow some directions to another store on the other side of the tram stop. A little old lady said it was "quite near." Easy for her to say--she had two good legs. I finally found it, though. They did not have large bottles of alcohol or peroxide. These kinds of things are usually sold only in a pharmacy and in small quantities. Folks here are very careful with chemicals. I found a few alcohol wipes and bought a few more bandages. I also bought some vinyl gloves so I could wash dishes without losing my band-aids. Too bad I'm allergic to latex (CHF ,90). Vinyl gloves are CHF 5,60. Oh well. I bought a big chocolate bar to make me feel better. All chocolate here is half what I pay at home. Not only that, I think I'm losing weight. What a country!
I still had to carry everything home. Took every ounce of strength I had. Then I tore into the chocolate, cleaned my wound and rested. Job well done. I have just one class tomorrow, and I think I'll take it kind of easy. I think I've earned that much. All the kids at school were so sweet today. They want to start cooking. They all wished me a speedy recovery. Hope they are as happy about English class. We'll see tomorrow.
Guess I'll hobble off to bed. My leg is so stiff I call it "Stumpy." That's just how I sound on the wood floor. Poor downstairs neighbor!
What a difference a good night's sleep makes! I got almost nine hours last night, and I think I've figured out what my various medicines do so I can use them effectively. Now that the knee hurts a bit less I can get around again if I move slowly.
This morning I set off at my old lady pace on my way to church. The path to the tram stop is really steep, and there are shallow steps cut in it to help you navigate. I was still fumbling with my coins when the tram came, but the driver motioned for me to take my time, and I got settled just fine.
Church was absolutely the best medicine I could have asked for. It was Youth Sunday, and the music the kids provided was just great. There were songs in German, Swiss German and English--even one I knew. They had two singers, a flautist, a guitar and a drum set. There was even a "beamer" which is a computer projector. All this in a church half the size of mine back home. Everyone was warm and friendly. I met a man who is English, which was nice. I don't mind using my German all of the time, but it's a bit slow if you have a lot to say.
The church is Methodist, just like mine back home. The service was familiar, and the sermon was wonderful--"Am I on the Right Path?" Just the thing for my new endeavor. The church has had a liaison with a church/mission in South America, and they have built a Spanish-speaking congregation from that. There is a service in Spanish on Sunday evenings. The pastor is learning Spanish. They had a female pastor from South America who came for 10 months some time ago and, if I understood what they told me correctly, she ended up marrying someone she met here. The world is really getting smaller.
The church "Summer camp" was just that--two weeks in the Alps with children and youth. What a Vacation Bible School! They camped out, stayed in a lodge, had plenty of games and hikes. There was a ropes course and a hike up a mountain path that looked more like a goat trail. I wondered if Americans would have allowed such a thing. Think of the liability! Around here, children are taught to be careful. If they get injured, that's just life. Of course everyone is insured to the eyebrows, too. The kids thanked those who had donated to the trip, and I couldn't help but wonder about the kind of donations they would have needed. By now they were speaking Swiss German, but I think they said something about an "Honor List" of those who had given $1000 or more. My Swiss German isn't very good yet, but I get better every day.
Speaking of donations, there was no collection plate! That's a real first for me in a Methodist church. I asked the English guy about it. He said people preferred to mail in their contributions because of the tax regulations. They don't use paper checks here (yes, it's a very different system), so you would have to put cash in the plate. They want receipts. I was really lucky Keith (the Englishman) had coins for a ten-frank note. Otherwise I would not have been able to pay for a tram ticket tomorrow morning. I have to use coins until I can pay with my ATM card from the bank, and that's not been delivered yet.
In other news, I found out I need my "Aufenthaltsbewilligung" or residence card in order to purchase a month-long pass for the tram. Since the bicycle route is now out, this has leaped to the top of my list of important things to get done. I'm hoping the last document will be waiting for me at school Monday morning. Seems like every official thing one needs to do around here requires a trip to several different places. That much is just like home. What's different is that I can't just tool around town in my car. Even if I had one, there are next to no parking places in front of schools, police stations, etc., so most errands require several tram rides. Before I left home I thought CHF 67 was too much to pay for transportation for a month. I'll bet folks with cars spend that on parking alone not to mention gas and maintenance. It's actually a pretty good deal.
Sunday is really quiet--I like it. One is not supposed to mow the lawn or make a lot of noise in the apartment by running the washing machine. One is supposed to spend time with the family and rest. Restaurants are open; stores are closed. There were hoards of people at the zoo, but the major transfer stations on the tram line were largely deserted. I was asked over to a teacher's home for the afternoon, but I declined. Much as I would love to spend family time like everyone else, I need to rest my leg for the stresses of the week ahead and get my lessons in order. I have just half a schedule because of field trips next week, so this is my big opportunity to get ahead of the game. I'm going to put some nice music on and chill out like everyone else. I can already feel my blood pressure dropping. Looks like a good week ahead. Hope yours will be as well.
Bis spooter--(until later Swiss style)
In German there is an expression, "Alle Anfang ist schwer." It means that everything is hard at the beginning. Up until Wednesday, I didn't really think so. My school, WBS St. Alban, is a really happy place. While there are of course students who find lessons tedious, the overall atmosphere is friendly and relaxed. The teachers get along well with each other, and everyone has gone out of his or her way to make me feel at home.
The city is beautiful. I live up on a hillside in a shady street just down the hill from what was once a convent or church. Cows graze on a field nearby, and there is a beautiful park with a terrace that looks out over the city. Wednesday was a beautiful, sunny day. After my first full day of lessons at school I stopped at a döner stand (really good Turkish sandwich), picked up lunch and cycled to the park to eat it. It was absolutely heavenly.
I had some errands to run at the bank, etc., so I did that and then started back to school to pick up some work to take home. While traveling down a very narrow street, I met a car that seemed a little close for comfort. I got nervous and leaned toward the curb. About the time I decided I should stop, my tire hit the rather high curb, and I tumbled off the bike with full force. My knee hit first, then my face which carried my right hand down, too. Finally I heard my helmet crack hard against the pavement. (ALWAYS wear a helmet, kids!)
The driver of the car stopped as did a few other people. Everyone took stock of my injuries. I was intensely embarrassed. Not only that, I was bleeding from my hand. Someone handed me a paper towel. Someone else asked if an ambulance should be called. I stood up. Holding my bike, I could just walk and push it. My knee hurt like fury, but I didn't want strangers taking care of me. I thought if I could just get to school, all would be well. So I thanked everyone profusely and set off at a snail's pace.
I was about half way to school from home--a distance of about 3 miles total, I guess. It seemed to take forever to traverse the mile and a half I had to go, but I made it. I got a few strange looks along the way, but people here really respect one's privacy. You have to when folks live so close together.
Folks at school were absolutely terrific. The first aid kit came out. Salves were suggested. My hand was bandaged. Clucking noises were made. I felt I had been tremendously stupid, but no one else seemed to think so. These things happen. After a bit, it was decided I should have the thing checked out. My hand was still hurting, and it was now almost impossible to walk on my right leg. Frank and Fabian took me to the hospital.
As I said at school yesterday, everyone should have a Frank. Here's a guy who only just met me and who most certainly had a full agenda what with the start of school. Nevertheless, he stayed with me at the hospital, helped me negotiate the forms and insurance questions and then went home with me in the taxi. I almost had to throw him out to get him to go home, and then he had to walk as he had left his bike at school. He promised to pick me up in the morning as well.
Almost immediately I wished I hadn't been so hasty. I had crutches, but it was pretty hard to fix myself something to eat and to adjust to the steady pain I was having in spite of all the medications. We'll gloss over that part. Frank even went to the drug store for me the next day, laid out almost $200 for the drugs and delivered it all to school without any apparent concern about repayment. He will be my hero forever, believe me.
Today is Friday. I've been here exactly a week, and I feel as if it's been two months. What a wonderful place to be! I still feel so lucky to be here, despite the setbacks. The kids are just like the ones I left back home (including the little problems, sigh) and I have friends. If my family were here, I would never go anywhere else. I can say this after three days of rain and an injury. Imagine what it's like when things are going well!
The leg is getting better. I'm very impressed with the effectiveness of the medicines I was given. They seem to have no side effects, and they work on the affected part without making me "high" or drowsy. The Swiss, like the Germans, are careful in their use of powerful medicines. We could learn something there, I think. Frank was grossed out to learn I have to give myself a daily injection in my leg, but it's really easy and hurts not at all. If Frank's knee hurt like mine did, he would be fine with that, I'm sure. I'm getting around the apartment with just one crutch now, and I even vacuumed the floor which was making me crazy. It's all hardwood and tile, so it really shows the dirt. If Sadie (our dog) were here, we would have to vacuum daily at least.
Please don't anyone worry about me. I'm in excellent hands. I'm planning to rest a great deal this weekend and get some lessons in place for next week. Some of the students will be gone on field trips with their teachers (a school start tradition, apparently), so the real work won't start until the following week. By then I should be walking better and talking better. I don't recommend starting off with a bang like I did, but if you have to, work here. It's a great place to be.
Auf wieder Luege!
Frank was punctual and we took off on our bikes at precisely 7:30 as planned. He was very patient with me as I trundled slowly along. Hope my muscles don't take too long to get in shape. While the bike is a very good way to get around, it takes some getting used to. the cars pass within inches of me, and I'm not yet feeling so secure on the unfamiliar bicycle. I'll have to get out a bit this weekend.
The mood at school was very cheerful and friendly. Everyone greeted me, treated me, and told me to ask whatever I needed to in order to feel at home. I couldn't have asked for a better welcome. Two people even gave me chocolate! The students were equally sweet. They all trooped in on time and offered me a hand. I think we may have to adopt that custom in my class back home. It's a great way to start the school year.
We had 2-1/2 hours together, because this is my homeroom. We introduced ourselves and compared statistics about our two countries. Then we had tests--theirs over the U.S. and mine over Switzerland. Everyone got 100%! It was an excellent beginning. The schedule is new this year and rather varied. We have a double hour (block to you St. Charles people) at the beginning of the day, a 5-minute break and then a 45 minute class. Then we have a 25 minute break, followed by another 45 minute class. After a 5-minute break we have another block. It will take some getting used to. I teach all different courses different days, so this necessitates learning a schedule that lasts a week rather than learning a 2-day schedule. What with learning all the procedures, the staff, the students, and the material, I have enough to do for a month. I have tomorrow to plan, and then I start working for real. So as much as I would like to continue this post, I will close for now. I have some notes to make, dishes to wash, and I've been invited to a neighbor's house for a glass of wine. Except for the rain, it was a perfect first day! Hope things are going as well back in Missouri.
My first day was pretty busy. Stores in Binningen (my suburb) are open only until noon on Saturday. This means even jet lagged people have to get up and out if they need to shop, and I did. Michelle bought me enough to keep body and soul together, but I needed food for the weekend. So I left my unpacking for later and hit the road at about 10 o'clock. Everyone was out and about. I went on foot. You see more that way.
The nearest grocery, Migros, is about 1/5 the size of my Schnucks store back home. I was delighted to find that my high German worked very well and that I understood more of the Swiss German I heard around me than I thought I would be able to. Prices of produce and packaged goods were about the same as at home (I buy the good stuff), but meat was very high. I bought 3 little pork chops and they were CHF 11 which is roughly equivalent to American dollars. This is about twice what I pay at home. Good thing I'm not on the Atkins diet! I needed a little instruction on the produce-pricing machine, but I congratulated myself that I knew enough to price my produce before I got in line to pay. Attention Shuey students: all those cultural lessons pay off. If you know the culture, you can fit in quite easily. I shudder to think how hard it would be to adapt when you don't know how things work.
I stopped by the bank on my way home because it's just down the street from my house. It was closed. I'll have to wait until Monday afternoon to work on banking. Geli is so lucky to have such convenient services.
After lunch I decided to seek the church I want to attend. I checked out the tram (Metro), but the machine takes only local cards and coins. I had bills. A very nice lady at the stop showed me how to work the machine, but she told me Basel was only 3 stops away; I could easily walk it. Well, that was technically true. I did walk, and the city limits were about 10 minutes away on foot. However, the city center was about half an hour. No matter, it was a beautiful day.
The Swiss are friendlier than I had expected them to be. I think they are friendlier than the Germans. Several people smiled and greeted me--something you just don't get in Germany. I felt encouraged. I passed the zoo, the train station--that was funny. Two little old ladies with many shopping bags came toward me, so I asked them about the location of the street I was looking for. They shook their heads. They didn't seem to know much German. It occurs to me as I write this that they were probably French speakers. One said "Bahnhof?" I thought she was asking if I were looking for the train station. I shook my head and moved on.
About 50 yards down the road, I realized I was headed in the wrong direction and reversed my path. Guess who I met coming toward me? Right. "Bahnhof?" I asked. They nodded vigorously. I pointed them in the right direction (after all, I had just passed it) and they toddled off happily. I was still a bit lost, but they weren't.
I had to ask the way a few times, but eventually I reached the city center where things were really popping. It looked like the entire population of Basel was shopping. There was a balloon man, people in cafes, children on scooters--lots of activity. I came across a five-piece band playing a Joplin rag. Three thousand miles and I hear music from my home town--weird. Except for Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" all the music I heard yesterday was American. I guess that brings in the most money or the buskers would certainly play something else.
On my way to Riehenring (the street with the church) I saw a very shiny, new looking VW from the sixties and a beautiful red Ferrari convertible. Switzerland seems to be kind to automobiles. Everything here is squeaky clean--especially the cars.
I stopped in at a cut-rate store and bought a pillow and pillow case. It was 50% off which made it about the same price as a similar pillow at Target back home. It's a bit too springy, but I like it well enough. It will do for the year, I think. I also bought some ice cream--that's why I come to Europe, really. There's just nothing like it. It costs the moon, but it was my first day. From now on I'll be more frugal.
I finally found Riehenring. It's about an hour from home on foot. I'll bicycle there next Sunday. The trams don't run on Sundays. I found the wrong end of Riehenring, naturally, but a very nice young woman showed me the way. Since we were going the same direction we chatted amiably for a block or two. She was very friendly. Emily, the church is directly across from the Musical Theatre. I'll let you know what's playing.
I took the tram home--my feet were sore! It costs CHF 3 one way, so I won't take it often. I think a visit to the center of Basel once a week would be about right. Saturdays are a blast! While I waited for the tram I watched a pair of "gilded ladies" conversing. One was particularly interesting. She wore a leopard-patterned dress, fishnet stockings, 4-inch black patent heels, dark red lipstick and a long blond wig. Quite the get-up. After they moved away a lady sitting next to me said in German, "Can you believe what some people wear?" No, I can't. Wonder what they do for a living?
Church bells are ringing as I post this. Church bells ring all the time. I love it. Yesterday the street was blocked off for a children's festival of sorts. There were fun toys such as stilts to play with. They were having a ball with old-fashioned wooden toys. Just the sort of thing to lure them away from the computer. We should try it. The under 12 crowd was out in force. The moms set up a tent and picnic tables and were watching from a respectful distance. This is a real enhancement to family life. We should try it.
Someone shot off a bunch of fireworks Friday night. I guess they were left over from the Swiss Day celebration on August 1st. Some things are universal, I guess. The streets were pretty noisy Saturday night, but I wasn't sleeping anyway. I stayed up until 2:00 a.m. trying to get the internet running. This morning a technician at the help desk did it for me in 20 minutes. I'm humbled. I'm not a real geek, I just play one at school.
Today I plan to try out the bicycle and find my way to school. Frank is "collecting" me tomorrow at 7:30 (everyone speaks British English here), but I want to know where I am going so I won't slow him down. I haven't ridden a bicycle for about 3 years. A little practice is in order.
This is a long post--sorry about that. There's just so much to tell! Stay tuned.
And I was wondering what I would do for seven hours at Heathrow!
While waiting to board my plane in Washington, I struck up a conversation with a Muslim woman from Philadelphia. She had a U.S. passport, so I guess she is a citizen. She was going to visit family in Tripoli in Libya. We had a pleasant conversation. The flight was uneventful, and I think I got about 3 hours sleep which is pretty good for me.
When we arrived at Heathrow, I saw the little lady again. She waved and smiled as we snaked our way through the long lines for the shuttle between terminals and went out to Timbuktu where terminal 5 is located. Then I lost track of her.
I was wandering around terminal 5 when I heard someone calling. Guess who? Yep, it was the little lady from Philadelphia. She missed her plane. She was so glad to see someone she had seen before. I accompanied her to the service desk where an agent set her up with new flights: a connection in Rome and then on to Tripoli. Now she needed to alert her family. I helped her use the telephone, and she woke up her husband to tell him the news. Now we both had about four hours to kill, and she wasn't about to leave my side. I had a new best friend.
Her name is Fatouma--a version of Fatma. My students will enjoy that--let them tell you why. She has three grown children, none married. We talked about children and the cost of college tuition. She told me a little about the practices of Islam. Together we found the prayer room at the appropriate time, but there were men there, so she couldn't use it. We wondered why the room wasn't partitioned as it common in other places. I should probably ask Heathrow about that.
When the time came, I escorted her to her gate. That turned out to be a good idea. It was a different gate than the one the agent had told her. I gave her lots of advice for finding her connection in Rome and to watch especially for a change in gate. I sure hope she got where she was going.
After all that, my arrival in Basel was kind of uneventful. My new colleague, Michelle, met me at the airport and schlepped my enormous bags to the apartment. She showed me where everything was. She bought me groceries and made sure I wouldn't starve before she saw me again on Monday. [Note: heard from Michelle on Sunday night as well as from Thomas and Frank. It's interesting how the staff here has a closer relationship than the staff back home--probably due to the smaller size of the school. Everyone is very friendly and helpful!]
Geli and I arrived in Washington yesterday afternoon. After a quick sandwich, we decided to try out the light rail system and go to the Federal Triangle area to see what we could see. That turned out to be quite a lot. I had no idea how grand and awe-inspiring Washington really is. What we see on television or in pictures doesn't do it justice. I was not prepared for my emotional reaction. I was really proud of this city, and I felt a sense of ownership and belonging. I've been to Paris, London, and Berlin and never felt this way. It's hard to describe. All I can say is that I thoroughly recommend every citizen make it a point to come here at least once and spend some time in this place that our tax dollars have built. Guys, the museums are "free." You paid your admission on April 15th, now come and appreciate what we have here. There are museums dedicated to just about every aspect of life in America and some museums dedicated to other places which have contributed such as Africa and Asia. The Vietnam memorial was moving beyond belief. Just come--you will be so glad you did. I have vowed to come back with my husband and spend at least 4-5 days here as soon as possible.
That being said, you must understand just what a hick from the sticks I really am--Geli too, come to that. We were the most awkward and naive tourists you can imagine.
We walked to the Metro station, asked about prices and strode confidently toward the ticket machine. Then we stood there like Martians, completely unable to decipher the strange workings of this Earthling machine. The Metro ticket agent was kind enough to push all the appropriate buttons for us in a rapid staccato and watch as we dove to the floor to retrieve our tickets which shoot out of the slot at the unwary. She told us we would need a bus transfer from another machine, but that would come later. OK.
It's a long way to the center of DC from here in Virginia, so I thought I would share some "local" knowledge with Geli as we examined the map. "Here's our Capitol Building," I said. "We have two houses in our government. Can you guess which is the upper and which the lower?"
"Upper," she said, pointing to the senate. "And lower," she said, smiling and pointing to the White House. Well, you have to admit that's pretty funny no matter what your politics may be.
We had a sad incident at the St. Louis airport. I think we are both a bit intimidated by the idea of a year-long excursion. This makes you a bit goofy about things that would ordinarily be pretty easy. Poor Geli forgot about the ban on liquids in large amounts. She came sailing through the security point which was moving along at an unbelievably fast pace. But wait, the line is stopping. Why? Geli has a big bottle of shampoo and an $80 bottle (also big) of fancy perfume. Sorry--they have to go. The TSA agent was female. This may have helped somewhat as she allowed Geli a bit larger tube of toothpaste than is customary. Small comfort next to the loss of her beloved perfume. Perhaps everyone could buy a half ounce or so for her and a fancy bottle to put it in. You'll have to ask her the brand--I forgot it.
Later I was sharing what I had learned on the American Airlines website about packing bags. Apparently if you pack firearms they must be unloaded, packed in checked baggage and declared as you check in. "Wait a minute," said Geli. "You mean you can bring firearms on the plane, but you can't bring perfume?" Some things are pretty hard to explain, you know?
Quiz time: which of the two pictures below is the White House?
We had to take a cab back from the Metro station because we missed the last bus, but it was worth the tired feet and lack of sleep. Get here any way you can--this is definitely a MUST SEE!
NOTE: If you come here, please get some instructions on riding the light rail before you go to the station. We came back through the same station and got stuck in the exit because we owed $0.40 more to get out. The SAME poor ticket agent had to rescue us again! She also informed us we should have purchased bus transfers at the station from which we left (Federal Triangle). Now we would have to pay full fare. No problem. We missed the last bus anyway. All this instruction cost us $10 for a cab, but you have to admit it was pretty cheap as transportation lessons go. It was one eighth of what we paid to learn about liquids at the St. Louis airport.
And this was just the first day!
Big Day! Geli has Wifi, a Missouri driver's license (!), a car and enough documentation to satisfy the most meticulous INS agent. But there's more. Geli has done something I didn't do. I venture to say, Geli has done something no Missouri resident who is reading this post has done. Geli got 100% on her road test! Top that, if you can.
We're going out to lunch to celebrate, and Geli is going to drive. We'll be the crazy broads singing to the radio in a green VW convertible. Watch out, we're a real force to be reckoned with!
Doesn't she look happy? What a country!
Happiness is a cute little VW convertible. We picked up the car last night along with a 1/2 inch thick sheaf of papers. This morning we will mount another assault on the assessor's office with title in hand and proceed to the DMV with, I hope, every piece of paper required to get the car licensed. The insurance purchase was incredibly easy--amazing what you can do when you are paying someone!
Another hurdle is the driver's license. Yesterday Geli was told she had to prove she was working in St. Charles in order to take the written exam. Of course none of our students has ever had to prove any such thing. Since the exams are completely separate from the identification process, this is a patently ridiculous demand. I take comfort, however, knowing that we are completely protected from wild-eyed, unemployed Germans who are bent on wreaking havoc by driving on the streets of St. Charles.
My time at home grows short. My closet is emptying as I pack. Amazing to see how I have accumulated clothing I can just as easily do without. What a wasteful American I am! The packing will get serious over these next few days. Anything I forget will be thoroughly left behind. Shipping rates are prohibitively expensive. Most things, however, can be replaced. Makes me wonder why I need two huge suitcases, but I must remember I am poor in Switzerland. My salary is more than $20,000 less than the amount Fulbright recommends you have for Switzerland. Fortunately, I am extremely frugal. Since I am teaching cooking, I actually get two meals every week at the school free of charge. Watch this space for cost-cutting tips on living abroad!
