Here are some things I wrote back in October, decided against posting because I was positive it "was written terribly," trusted that judgement and resisted reviewing it because of all the changes I'd have to make and I couldn't remember how to "write well," delayed writing another post because there was still this one I'd have to go over, then finally re-read it today (January 17) and decided "what the hell - it's literally fine." (Lol and then never posted until June). Enjoy!
_____________________
One Friday evening before New Years, I bussed to Abbie's house with some groceries and wine, and she was having dinner with Ingrid and Ilona (Ingrid's friend). Ilona is one of those tiny women who are incredibly lively, but she also give off such a peaceful and slightly impish persona. She works bringing felted handicrafts to Switzerland from her hometown in Kyrgyzstan, advocating for their craftsmanship, tools, and ethical/sustainable materials. I fell in love with pattern and flow of one of the handmade woolen scarves, with photos of it being pulled and felted, the way it draped so gracefully over my body while also being bulky and warm... and then looked at the price tag and realized it was around 120CHF ($170ish). Later than night, she started playing Kyrgyzstani music on the speakers and taught us how clubbing works in Kyrgyzstan.
The next morning, Abbie and I have coffee and head out on an adventure. We take the train around Lac Leman up to Aigle, then a regional train over to Leysin. From there, we hike up the Berneuse, a small mountain I'd hiked back in 2017. It takes the whole day and return late.
Abbie and I complement each other well as travel buddies. We both want to see and experience as much as we can this year, have similar travel interests, but opposite personalities in complementary ways. I am often nervous to approach people; she strides in confidently. I'm worried about using the decent amount of French I do know; she blurts out the few words she has. I've solo travelled and lived overseas multiple times; she's never lived outside Australia. I don't often give a shit about physical safety; she's very concerned. I can be absent-minded and quiet; she is always alert and assertive. I'm very cautious of bothering other people; she does what she wants. I kind of fade into new places; wherever she goes, she is Abbie. It's a good balance.
The next day, Sunday, we take the train to Nyon (half-fare train passes are excellent) for what was supposed to be another coffee and brunch, but we end up having a long conversation sitting outside the Chateau de Nyon overlooking the city and Lac Leman. This then turns into flicking breadcrumbs at the birds, then wandering down to the docs to find boatmen to flirt with in hopes of catching a ride onto the lake. Turns out all boaters leave pretty early in the morning, so most of the folks we talk to are coming back (or just don't want passengers - fair enough), but we make a lot of friends for potential future boating trips (plus the phone numbers of 3 different boatmen). To give credit where credit's due, I would never have done this on my own.
Afterward, we are walking along the lake when we came across several guys (looking a bit "hoodlummy") talking and laughing in a group. Abbie starts nudging me and gesturing with eye contact, indicating we should chat them up too. I raise my eyebrows and half-smile in an "okay you lead the way" sort of manner, and she happily goes in and interrupts/introduces us to the entire group. She starts chatting with the dude beside her and I start chatting with the dude beside me. I really can't remember what my dude and I talking about but, several minutes later, Abbie nudges me again.
"This man here is Jacka - he has a car and he lives way up in the Alps. He's leaving in a few minutes and can take us along if we want." Holy she's fast; I need to be more on-the-ball with this.
I shrug and acknowledge the new connection. Abbie promptly switches places with me so I can chat with the man now. He actually is very friendly - he's a reggae musician who only came into town to pick up some medication, but usually prefers mountain villages. He also has photos of Raclette campfires consisting of a massive wheel of cheese literally melting over a fire and 3-4 day camping trips through the Alps. He's Italian Swiss but also fluent in French (from living in the French part), English (from travelling), and Spanish (from working in South America). I'm more and more intrigued by this guy, but also increasingly conscious of the time - it's nearing 5pm, we're 1 hour from my house in France, and France (at this point) has a 9pm curfew.
Eventually she and I are sitting beside each other atop the brick wall beside the group.
"Well... what do you think?" She's looking intently at me, clearly looking for my assessment of the situation. "We could get a ride out with him and then take the train back." Since I've hitchhiked and traveled solo many times, she trusts me.
"It's getting pretty late..." I say slowly, "It'll be too dark to see any mountains when we get there and it's another 2 hours back. Why not another day or weekend when we have more time?"
"Just to get to know him a bit more," she pushes, "We can drive out with him and take the train back - what do you reckon? I wouldn't do this without you, getting into a random man's car."
"I'm not worried about the random man - I'm worried about the curfew!" I burst out anxiously, "I don't want to end up in French prison!"
"Oh you're not gonna end up in French prison," she chuckles and rolls her eyes, "besides, the French are pretty relaxed about it, aren't they?"
"Only because they don't check often. If they catch you, they're not relaxed."
"We'll be back before the 9pm curfew. He's leaving very soon"
My paranoia eventually calms down and I agree. What happened to independent, hitchhiking Anneke who joined cults and rented motorcycles without a license? Why has she become so scared of curfews?
The man, Jacka, is a lovely spirit. There's a brief uncomfortable moment when Abbie starts talking about sex in an effort to, I think, gage his intentions. His response evidently gained her trust because it never came up again. Otherwise, the longish drive was a great way to get to know him; he shares hi music with us and tells us about his town and the nearby area. By the time he drops us off in Aigle, it's already dark. We exchange Facebook and WhatsApp, then Abbie and I get on the train all the way back to Geneva. For those familiar with Swiss geography, yes, we did go halfway around Lac Leman 4 times in one weekend.
From Geneva, I catch the train to CERN, then run the last 30 minutes back to my house. Ten minutes before I arrive, I can hear the church bells ringing out 9pm. Since it's also curfew time, they wait a few moments before ringing out the hour again. Luckily, the streets are dead and I tuck myself into the gate before any "gens d'armes" (police officers) stroll by. French prison successfully avoided.
________________
Our "all staff town halls" include Robert Mardini speaking, so that's pretty rad. When you work in the same organization as important people, they're obviously a part of the larger staff meetings. The anonymous questions get wiiild. Office politics at its best.
___________________
Being monolingual is a serious rarity here. Most people speak their first language, then English fluently, then most likely a third. Probably French, German, Spanish, Italian, or Portuguese (so Western European language are big). Although I've been coming across quite a bit of Russian and Tagalong as well. Surprisingly little Mandarin though. Who knew my learning Thai would so come in handy, if only to be the reason I don't look like a monolingual fool.
________________________
So we're only allowed out of our homes for a specified number of activities in certain areas for a certain amount of time. Unless you are a special human who works for an international organization in another country; then you can justify leaving your 1km radius if you're en route to work. Once in Switzerland, there is no longer restriction of movement (but all bars, cafes, and stores are shut down again). Second wave be making bureaucratic countries even more bureaucratic.
(Update: as of June, this lockdown has been significantly lifted. The radius is no longer in effect for those with residence in France, and the curfew has now gone from 6pm to 9pm and finally to 11pm.)
________
 |
| Here's a copy of the attestation we need to fill out and download every time we leave. (Note that this is the more recent one with very different restrictions). |
 |
| I had to switch my cheese database from a handwritten page in my journal to an excel spreadsheet. Much easier to categorize and sort. |
Apple apple APPLE season! Bearing the fruits of 4-5 trees, I've been making applesauce, apple crisp, apple loaves, apple muffins, apple cookies. Olga's been cooking apple into her chicken soups, and she showed me how to make a Russian apple cake. Before the lockdown, I was also bringing apples to work for colleagues.
____________________
Remember being a kid and parents would explain denying treats as "if we have special things all the time, you'll get sick of them because they're not special anymore"? Bullshit. I've been feasting on cheese and chocolate every day for over a month now and it's still friggin amazing. Balanced out with vegetables and a shit tonne of biking, new cheeses every day is heavenly. AND WHITE CHOCOLATE ISN'T FROWNED UPON AS A LESSER CHOCOLATE! It is so satisfying to have my supply of the two delicious opposites - dark chocolate and white chocolate - and nobody bats an eye. They would bat an eye if I were to pull out a Hershey's chocolate (or any other non-European chocolate, really. Pretty ethnocentric when you consider chocolate isn't from anywhere near Europe in the first place). And there are still plenty more cheeses to try before I ever get sick of it; I'm already excited to go back to retry some of the ones I've already tasted. There was one terrible day where I just wasn't up for blue cheese, but it passed quickly enough.
