So Swiss

Yesterday, I had a very Swiss day, and I absolutely loved it.  I have a lot to write about this week! So- bear with me! Firstly, I’ll backtrack to my school week for a bit. 

Sport Class

The first different I noticed from our gym classes to the sport class here, is the difference in grades.  Here, we do not have percentages, but instead a grade point from 1-6 (4 being a pass).  This is consistent throughout all subjects.  Now in Canada, our gym mark is based on a mixture of technique, participation, and performance.  Your personal improvement is a large factor in the marking scheme.  Here, not so much.  Grades are based almost entirely on performance.  I am talking about this because we ran our 5km on Tuesday.  You time correlates directly to your mark- it’s much more motivational than just trying to improve your time! It’s not like in Canada, when you run slowly the first time, to show how great you are by the end of the semester.  Because of this system, it was quite amazing to see that NO girl forgot shoes, skipped class, had a “doctor’s” note or some other crazy excuse.  Just slightly different from Personal Fitness last year!! I ended up running my 5km in 24:10- that’s a record for me! And I was the best in my class J Turns out all this running is paying off.  Yesterday I met a man and a woman who are friends of my YEO (youth exchange officer).  The woman asks, “So, do you play sports in Canada?” The man looks at her incredulously, “Are you kidding? Look at the size of this girl’s legs!” I guess some things never change!

Taste of Canada

On Friday night I had this crazy idea that since my shin splints are killing me, it would be a good plan to bike instead.  I laid in the hammock in my backyard in my spandex for over an hour contemplating this choice before I actually got off my butt to go.  I had left my bike at the train station nearby, so I’d have to run there.  I got my iPod all set up and put my phone in my sports bra- I knew I’d get lost if I didn’t have it.  Just before I left I realized I hadn’t thought about a helmet.  I found one in the closet and was ready to leave.  I am so glad that Barbara offered to bike my helmet to the station, because now that I think of it, me running with a helmet on (it was annoying to carry, so I planned on wearing it) is a pretty hilarious thought.  My mom would have been happy to know that I’d started jogging with a helmet.  I biked for over an hour, following the ridiculously winding path of the Limmat River, passing many cows and sheep along the way.  My music was awesome, the sun was setting, and the river was stunning.  This all made up for the fact that on my way home I hit every possible dead end in town and had to turn around every minute or so.  The landscape reminded me so much of home and it was very comforting.  To top it off, I came home and feasted on the meal of my dad’s house- egg bowl.  Three eggs with a massive pile of fried veggies and ham.  Yumm! And paleo too! (Okay, almost paleo, you just need to subtract the Swiss cheese I threw I topped it off with a spicy ginger tea sweetened with maple syrup. Simply delicious. 

Talking to Strangers

Although when in a new place, the ever-famous rule is not to speak to strangers, some of my most rewarding, hilarious, and helpful conversations have taken place with people who I am with for five minutes and will never see again.  Firstly, stagers have been the way I have found my way to new places all the time.  Even when I think I may know- I’ll ask just in case.  With my German improving, I am confident when I ask my questions and can understand the answer.  This may seem simple, but it has taken a month for me to get to this place- and man it feels good.  On an entertaining side, last night when I was waiting for some friends in Baden, I was proposed to by a slightly intoxicated man waiting for his bus.  He included the fact that he is an excellent cook, loves laundry, and will clean things until they shine in his proposal.  The funniest part was that he said all of these things as if it were as regular as asking where the supermarket is.  When his bus came, I gave him the name of Seraphine Elmonten and gave him the phone number on the sign for the bakery across the street.  It was my first full conversation in German with a stranger.  Today, on my way to Lucerne, I felt extremely pleased with myself when a woman asked for help with her bus and how to get home.  First of all, I understood her question.  Second of all, I was able to explain to her where she had to go and when her next bus would come. It was SO cool! I feel stuck, and lost, and confused, and frustrated, and then come these “ta da!” moments when I know I’m getting somewhere with this seemingly impossible language. 

My Swiss Day 

Yesterday was “megacool” (that’s what everyone says here). I spent the entire day with my YEO, Herr Bürli who I absolutely love.  His oldest son is in the military, and since he knew I had been curious about the military here, he brought me to the demonstration that his son was in.  Before I tell you about my many experiences, I will give you a brief rundown of what I think I understand of the Swiss Military.  What I’ve learned: Each and every man must serve in the Swiss army for three months, or they can do six (I think) months in Community Services.  Most choose the army.  In the army you can be a truck driver, pilot, chef, etc.  Each man is given a gun, which is to be kept with them in their house even when they are finished their three month period or training.  Every year, men are required to register at the shooting range in their community and do twenty practice shots.  Women also have the choice to join the force, however it is not at all common or obligatory (in my whole day at the demonstration I saw two women).

 The start to my day was an early one, 7.30 pickup from home to head to a place near Bern for the demonstration.  We took the car, which was so nice.  I miss cars sometimes! Well, I mostly miss driving, but it was nice to just be back in a Volvo, flying down the highway much too fast.  Naturally, I fell asleep within the first five minutes and was glad that I had the back seat to myself so that Bernard and his wife would not see the embarrassing “head bob” that was happening on my way to sleep.  I woke up at the military base, and it was even more chilly and foggy than I had been at home.  It was sort of eerie with all the heavy fog surrounding the enormous army trucks.  My attention was immediately drawn away from the nasty weather when we all hopped into the back of a military truck and headed to another site where we would first be given an unlimited number of croissants and coffee before the demonstration would begin.  With a warm and happy tummy, we all gathered around the caution taped boundaries and three enormous trucks pulled into the lot and out jumped three troops of men (and one woman).  They were in full military attire, including their guns, boots, and massive helmets.  After brief introductions of each group (which I didn’t understand) we followed the group that Bernard’s son was in to another lot.  They did a short marching and running demonstration with the traditional caller to dictate the men’s movements and positioning.  “Recht! Recht! Recht, links recht!” was yelled out as the men marched in time.  I was extremely encouraged to see a short soldier in the back, slightly behind the others, unknowingly marching with the wrong foot each time.  I’m not the only person who is challenged with lefts vs rights (even with clear instructions) after all.  Each soldier took a person from the crowd, and I got to march alongside the men, making very sure my feet were moving correctly with the calls.  I saw in the pictures after that my feet were correct, however my left arm was where my right was to be, and my right was where the left ought to. Maybe someday I’ll learn- but I wouldn’t bet any great sum on it. 

Next it was off to the trucks.  We lined up and got to ride in the trucks for 25mins or so through an amazing course. These trucks are massive, and I have not a clue how they were able to manoeuvre through the woods.  Through a river, over logs, over huge bumps, and down such a steep hill that if I wasn’t holding on tightly, I would have fallen from my seat and been stuck on the front windshield.  SO much fun! I just loved it.  After this we saw a few more demonstrations- gun assembly, and first aid.  Bernard was so hilarious all day.  I swear that by the end, the entire army knew: “This is my exchange daughter from Canada.  You must speak English or High German with her.  She would like to…” and the rest of this sentence was filled with various ending with each place we went.  I managed to try on the military backpack and rifle, get a picture with one of the army men, and be carried around in the first aid bed through a practice course.  Bernard also gave me much more than my ration of military issued chocolate and biscuits after lunch.  I was thrilled. 

My New Friend

I was next to be carried around!

The Terrifying Hill!

Military Men

After the military, we went to Luzern to see Bernard’s two other sons play handball. We were early, so we walked around the city, had a coffee by the water, bought a badge for my rotary jacket, and checked out some of the watches for sale at over forty thousand dollars!  Luzern is a place very populated by tourists, and so everyone speaks English.  It was so strange, because a man ran into me on the street and said in English “Oh, I’m so sorry about that!”  I responded and after a few minutes realized I’d said, “Ah, nein! Kein Problem.” Multiple languages are getting me all mixed up! On our way back to our parking spot, we hit a cheese festival with free samples of fondue.  It was totally amazing- so delicious.  One bite was so difficult; I almost went back for more.  The cylinders of cheese behind the counters must have weighed thirty pounds at least, they were enormous.  However, the whole area smelled very strongly of aged cheese- a smell I have always compared to sweaty feet. 

We went to the handball game next- which was SO exciting! I must admit, I asked a few pretty ridiculous questions, but by the end I really had the hang of it. It’s full contact, did you know that? They were tackling each other to the floor and it looked so painful sometimes! I always wanted to learn handball while I was here- but so much for that! No contact sports for me- I think handball falls into the same category of “no-no’s” like rugby and football.  Either way, it was great to watch, very fast and involves a lot of technique, physical strength, and agility.  Both of Bernard’s sons are built like brick walls, so they were not often taken down.  The game was hardly comparable to the European handball we play in warm-up for gym class!

Tonight I meet my next two host families, and we decide together what we will be doing on our vacations (Swiss life is FULL of them!).  I can’t wait.  I’ll be sure to fill in my upcoming plans next blog!

Have a good week everyone J