That allows you to take a leisurely Saturday to see things like this:
And this:
And this:
And this:
Yep, being landlocked in the center of Western Europe is not so bad at all.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Daytrip heaven
One of the best things about living in Switzerland is its central location in Europe (8 hours in any direction to any major European city) as well as its small size. On a $50 tank of gas, we can drive almost from one end of the country to the other and back in a day (we're Americans, we don't mind the driving).
That allows you to take a leisurely Saturday to see things like this:
And this:
And this:
And this:
Yep, being landlocked in the center of Western Europe is not so bad at all.
That allows you to take a leisurely Saturday to see things like this:
And this:
And this:
And this:
Yep, being landlocked in the center of Western Europe is not so bad at all.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Let them eat cake!
Before we moved to Switzerland, I was obsessed with making Amish Friendship Bread. I love sweet, quick breads -- banana chocolate chip bread, pumpkin bread, zucchini bread, pineapple coconut bread, chocolate cherry bread and my new obsession, banana coconut bread.
I whipped up a yeast starter for the Amish Friendship Bread a few weeks ago and baked a couple loaves of pineapple coconut bread for new friends we've made here. I thought it would be fun to share a little American dessert tradition.
When I presented them the foil-wrapped loaf with the Sharpie label reading, "Ananas-Cocos," I said proudly, "This is pineapple coconut Amish Friendship Bread."
Smiling happily, they paused over the label, then asked, "It's pineapple BREAD?"
"Yeah, it's a popular kind of bread that people make in the States and give to friends."
"So, it's sweet or ...?" they continued, in growing confusion. "Do you make sandwiches from it?"
"No, no," I quickly corrected, surprised. "You eat it with coffee or for a snack."
"OH, so it's cake!" they replied.
"It's actually bre--, uh, yeah, it's cake."
This is how I stopped to reflect that in America, we call a dessert "bread" if it's shaped in a loaf (unless it's "pound cake"); if it's a rectangle in a pan, it's "cake" and if it's in a round dish, cut into triangles, it's "pie."
Over here, it is much simpler. Everything is just cake.
I whipped up a yeast starter for the Amish Friendship Bread a few weeks ago and baked a couple loaves of pineapple coconut bread for new friends we've made here. I thought it would be fun to share a little American dessert tradition.
When I presented them the foil-wrapped loaf with the Sharpie label reading, "Ananas-Cocos," I said proudly, "This is pineapple coconut Amish Friendship Bread."
Smiling happily, they paused over the label, then asked, "It's pineapple BREAD?"
"Yeah, it's a popular kind of bread that people make in the States and give to friends."
"So, it's sweet or ...?" they continued, in growing confusion. "Do you make sandwiches from it?"
"No, no," I quickly corrected, surprised. "You eat it with coffee or for a snack."
"OH, so it's cake!" they replied.
"It's actually bre--, uh, yeah, it's cake."
This is how I stopped to reflect that in America, we call a dessert "bread" if it's shaped in a loaf (unless it's "pound cake"); if it's a rectangle in a pan, it's "cake" and if it's in a round dish, cut into triangles, it's "pie."
Over here, it is much simpler. Everything is just cake.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Why Americans and Europeans vacation differently
Now that we've been here for a while, I've been studying the differences between how Americans and Europeans vacation. I am not sure I fully understand all the factors, but from what Swiss and German people have explained to me, this is what I have seen and heard so far:
1. First off, the minimum amount of vacation time that Europeans are given is usually 3 weeks. Even if you just started a new job, you can expect to begin at the company with 3 weeks of vacation. The longer you work there, the more you earn. It's very common to have 5 weeks of vacation that you are allowed to take.
2. Unlike Americans, they will take it all at once. During the summer, usually in August, they'll just leave for an entire three weeks. Sometimes in August it actually feels like the apocalypse has occurred, or that you're in the beginning of the movie 28 Days Later. Post offices, restaurants and businesses will be shuttered up and locked. On July 31, it's a good idea to have lots of toilet paper stored, a vegetable garden you can eat out of, and probably a cow or a goat for milk, or you might run out of household necessities, as well as starve, before they all come back.
3. The other thing is that they will go just one place and spend the entire three weeks there, or divide up their time between maybe two locations. So, they'll rent a cabin on a lake or in the mountains or something and just stay put. They might go out during the days and hike or mountain climb or fish or whatever, but they're going back to the same hotel or cabin or RV or their relative's house every night. The idea of moving from hotel to hotel and from city to city every few days, like Americans do when we're in Europe, seems to exhaust them. It is not their idea of a holiday. It's like they think a vacation is for rest or something. Whatever.
4. Now, obviously, taking more days in a row of your vacation makes for a more expensive vacation. That is why Americans will take just two or three days at a time, or if we're really lucky, a whole week -- we blow our limited travel budget on that long weekend and have to scrimp and save up for two or three months (or a year) before we can afford another three-day weekend trip. Europeans are committed to their three weeks, and seem to find ways to offset the cost.
5. The other thing is that since Europeans LIVE in Europe, it's not like they have this pressure to see as much as they can over a limited period of time. Therefore, they might go back to the same vacation place year after year after year. They know they can always go to Berlin or London or Rome next year.
OK, so with all that as context, Europeans, and especially the Swiss, think American tourists are insane. They don't understand some basic differences:
1. We don't get 3 weeks of vacation. Heck, we're lucky if we get a whole week. Even if we have 3 weeks, we usually aren't allowed by our jobs to take that much time off in a row or else our company will collapse without us. Our bosses make us talk to all our other fellow employees to coordinate our vacations so that somebody is there every day of the year, so that the lights are on and the doors are open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, especially Christmas and Thanksgiving. In Europe, the entire restaurant or grocery store is closed for 3 weeks and everyone is gone. For whatever reason, there is no looting.
2. The price of the airline ticket just to get to Europe is equal to the cost of a human kidney. Europeans don't have that expense.
3. If we are going to sell our kidney to afford a freaking plane ticket, we better make the trip worth it. Therefore, we are going to see a different country every day; maybe two countries in one day.
4. America is big. It is nothing to drive 16 hours in a day to go skiing and then drive 16 hours back two days later. So we think it's a fantastic idea to ride a train 4 hours from Paris to Zurich and then, the evening after seeing Zurich, to catch the 8-hour train ride for Rome, continuing like this for one or two weeks.
Europeans think that is insane. You can cross the entire country of Switzerland in three hours. So, for a Swiss person, the idea of driving even 30 minutes somewhere on a Saturday is exhausting, let alone driving the 6 hours from Zurich to Paris for a two-week vacation. If you are a Swiss person going a distance of six hours, you are going to stop and spend the night three times on the way to break it up into manageable two-hour chunks of driving.
And that's why Americans and Europeans vacation differently.
1. First off, the minimum amount of vacation time that Europeans are given is usually 3 weeks. Even if you just started a new job, you can expect to begin at the company with 3 weeks of vacation. The longer you work there, the more you earn. It's very common to have 5 weeks of vacation that you are allowed to take.
2. Unlike Americans, they will take it all at once. During the summer, usually in August, they'll just leave for an entire three weeks. Sometimes in August it actually feels like the apocalypse has occurred, or that you're in the beginning of the movie 28 Days Later. Post offices, restaurants and businesses will be shuttered up and locked. On July 31, it's a good idea to have lots of toilet paper stored, a vegetable garden you can eat out of, and probably a cow or a goat for milk, or you might run out of household necessities, as well as starve, before they all come back.
3. The other thing is that they will go just one place and spend the entire three weeks there, or divide up their time between maybe two locations. So, they'll rent a cabin on a lake or in the mountains or something and just stay put. They might go out during the days and hike or mountain climb or fish or whatever, but they're going back to the same hotel or cabin or RV or their relative's house every night. The idea of moving from hotel to hotel and from city to city every few days, like Americans do when we're in Europe, seems to exhaust them. It is not their idea of a holiday. It's like they think a vacation is for rest or something. Whatever.
4. Now, obviously, taking more days in a row of your vacation makes for a more expensive vacation. That is why Americans will take just two or three days at a time, or if we're really lucky, a whole week -- we blow our limited travel budget on that long weekend and have to scrimp and save up for two or three months (or a year) before we can afford another three-day weekend trip. Europeans are committed to their three weeks, and seem to find ways to offset the cost.
5. The other thing is that since Europeans LIVE in Europe, it's not like they have this pressure to see as much as they can over a limited period of time. Therefore, they might go back to the same vacation place year after year after year. They know they can always go to Berlin or London or Rome next year.
OK, so with all that as context, Europeans, and especially the Swiss, think American tourists are insane. They don't understand some basic differences:
1. We don't get 3 weeks of vacation. Heck, we're lucky if we get a whole week. Even if we have 3 weeks, we usually aren't allowed by our jobs to take that much time off in a row or else our company will collapse without us. Our bosses make us talk to all our other fellow employees to coordinate our vacations so that somebody is there every day of the year, so that the lights are on and the doors are open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, especially Christmas and Thanksgiving. In Europe, the entire restaurant or grocery store is closed for 3 weeks and everyone is gone. For whatever reason, there is no looting.
2. The price of the airline ticket just to get to Europe is equal to the cost of a human kidney. Europeans don't have that expense.
3. If we are going to sell our kidney to afford a freaking plane ticket, we better make the trip worth it. Therefore, we are going to see a different country every day; maybe two countries in one day.
4. America is big. It is nothing to drive 16 hours in a day to go skiing and then drive 16 hours back two days later. So we think it's a fantastic idea to ride a train 4 hours from Paris to Zurich and then, the evening after seeing Zurich, to catch the 8-hour train ride for Rome, continuing like this for one or two weeks.
Europeans think that is insane. You can cross the entire country of Switzerland in three hours. So, for a Swiss person, the idea of driving even 30 minutes somewhere on a Saturday is exhausting, let alone driving the 6 hours from Zurich to Paris for a two-week vacation. If you are a Swiss person going a distance of six hours, you are going to stop and spend the night three times on the way to break it up into manageable two-hour chunks of driving.
And that's why Americans and Europeans vacation differently.
Monday, September 5, 2011
The Stages of Culture Shock
Having been here about 18 months, I would like to give a concrete example of the Stages of Culture Shock.
Directly across the street from my office window is the village church. Every village church has a steeple and bells that mark every quarter hour, every half hour and every hour. Twice a day, these bells (plural) clang continuously at 11 a.m. and 6 p.m., for at least one minute.
It feels like an hour. It's so loud that all phone calls or Skype meetings (or YouTube videos) must come to a screeching halt until said bells are done.
When I first arrived in this quaint little rural village, I was enchanted by this church and its lovely European bells.
Now, not so much.
Culture Shock Stage 1: The Honeymoon.
Everything in the Honeymoon Stage is new, fresh and exciting. Every experience is rich and euphoric. You feel that you could enjoy these things forever.
In my first week at my new office in Switzerland, at precisely 11 a.m., the bells begin their sweet music. I stop work on my computer and rush to the window, throwing it open to get the full effect of the pure, pealing sounds. I lean out with my Canon Digital ELPH to record video of this authentic Swiss experience and post it to my blog for all my friends and family at home so they can share in my enthusiasm for its novelty and charm.
Culture Shock Stage 2: Distress
What at first seemed new and exciting becomes increasingly irritating and confusing.
At 6 p.m. during my third month at my office in Switzerland, I am in the middle of a video call with a news source in Russia. It's tough enough to understand through his accent over the bad connection. But now, the bells burst into an explosion of seemingly discordant clanging.
Russian guy: "What is going (unintelligible) there?"
Me: "Uh, sorry, hold on," I say, frantically trying to lower the volume on my microphone and leaning over to close the open window.
Me: "THERE'S A CHURCH ACROSS THE STREET," I shout at the computer.
Russian guy: "WHA --" he yells back, and I can hear the clanging reverberating from his computer speakers and back into my mine.
Me: "IT'S A CHURCH. ACROSS THE STREET," I try to explain. I think the bells might be triggering a migraine.
Russian guy: "THAT'S A (garbled) CHURCH?"
Me: "YES, CHURCH BELLS. IF YOU COULD WAIT JUST A MOMENT..." I beg.
Russian guy: "I (garbled static because of too much noise going into my microphone) HEAR YOU--(static)."
Culture Shock Stage 3: Withdrawal
You refuse to accept what is new and different in the culture. You're frustrated, irritable, and feel hostile to the place and the people.
It's 11 a.m., and I'm working hard on a complicated article, humming to songs on iTunes. When the steeple bells begin their shrill, mocking laughter at me, I slam the window shut and crank up the computer speakers as loud as they will go, singing off-key at the top of my lungs. When that doesn't work, I plug my ears and yell, "I CAN'T HEAR YOU. I CAN'T HEAR YOU."
(OK, I don't actually do that. But I feel like it.) I go downstairs to get a coffee and wait it out.
If there were a hunchback, there is nowhere he could run that I would not find him.
Culture Shock Stage 4: Adjustment
You learn to accept the culture, and your negative feelings toward the differences become more positive.
A friend is visiting Switzerland and stops by my office to see where I work. We're sharing coffee at my desk when the steeple clock strikes 11 a.m., and the daily musical announcement of the time begins.
Friend: "THAT IS SOOOO COOL," she enthuses in a loud voice to get above the resonating metal striking metal. "DO YOU GET TO HEAR THAT EVERY DAY?"
Me: "YEAH," I affirm, hesitant. "DON'T YOU THINK IT'S LOUD?"
Friend: "I GUESS SO. BUT IT'S SOOOO EUROPEAN!"
Me: "IT'S KIND OF A NUISANCE WHEN I'M ON THE PHONE, THOUGH," I feel it necessary to point out.
Friend: "SURE. BUT, IT'S EUROPE, YOU KNOW?"
Me: "AND I DON'T NEED TO WEAR A WATCH ANYMORE."
Culture Shock Stage 5: Acceptance
You feel at home and may even adopt some of the country's customs.
During a video call at 6 p.m. with U.S. based office team back home, they suddenly stop.
Coworker: "Are those church bells going off?"
Me: "What?" I ask, confused. Then I realize I hadn't noticed the steeple bells across the street this time. "Oh, sorry about that. They do that every day at 11 in the morning and 6 in the evening. Let me turn the volume down."
Coworker: "That's pretty neat. A Swiss church right across the street!"
Coworker 2: "I'd love to hear that every so often. I sure miss those European churches."
Me: "I will, too," I say, knowing my contract here won't last forever.
Directly across the street from my office window is the village church. Every village church has a steeple and bells that mark every quarter hour, every half hour and every hour. Twice a day, these bells (plural) clang continuously at 11 a.m. and 6 p.m., for at least one minute.
It feels like an hour. It's so loud that all phone calls or Skype meetings (or YouTube videos) must come to a screeching halt until said bells are done.
When I first arrived in this quaint little rural village, I was enchanted by this church and its lovely European bells.
Now, not so much.
Culture Shock Stage 1: The Honeymoon.
Everything in the Honeymoon Stage is new, fresh and exciting. Every experience is rich and euphoric. You feel that you could enjoy these things forever.
In my first week at my new office in Switzerland, at precisely 11 a.m., the bells begin their sweet music. I stop work on my computer and rush to the window, throwing it open to get the full effect of the pure, pealing sounds. I lean out with my Canon Digital ELPH to record video of this authentic Swiss experience and post it to my blog for all my friends and family at home so they can share in my enthusiasm for its novelty and charm.
Culture Shock Stage 2: Distress
What at first seemed new and exciting becomes increasingly irritating and confusing.
At 6 p.m. during my third month at my office in Switzerland, I am in the middle of a video call with a news source in Russia. It's tough enough to understand through his accent over the bad connection. But now, the bells burst into an explosion of seemingly discordant clanging.
Russian guy: "What is going (unintelligible) there?"
Me: "Uh, sorry, hold on," I say, frantically trying to lower the volume on my microphone and leaning over to close the open window.
Me: "THERE'S A CHURCH ACROSS THE STREET," I shout at the computer.
Russian guy: "WHA --" he yells back, and I can hear the clanging reverberating from his computer speakers and back into my mine.
Me: "IT'S A CHURCH. ACROSS THE STREET," I try to explain. I think the bells might be triggering a migraine.
Russian guy: "THAT'S A (garbled) CHURCH?"
Me: "YES, CHURCH BELLS. IF YOU COULD WAIT JUST A MOMENT..." I beg.
Russian guy: "I (garbled static because of too much noise going into my microphone) HEAR YOU--(static)."
Culture Shock Stage 3: Withdrawal
You refuse to accept what is new and different in the culture. You're frustrated, irritable, and feel hostile to the place and the people.
It's 11 a.m., and I'm working hard on a complicated article, humming to songs on iTunes. When the steeple bells begin their shrill, mocking laughter at me, I slam the window shut and crank up the computer speakers as loud as they will go, singing off-key at the top of my lungs. When that doesn't work, I plug my ears and yell, "I CAN'T HEAR YOU. I CAN'T HEAR YOU."
(OK, I don't actually do that. But I feel like it.) I go downstairs to get a coffee and wait it out.
If there were a hunchback, there is nowhere he could run that I would not find him.
Culture Shock Stage 4: Adjustment
You learn to accept the culture, and your negative feelings toward the differences become more positive.
A friend is visiting Switzerland and stops by my office to see where I work. We're sharing coffee at my desk when the steeple clock strikes 11 a.m., and the daily musical announcement of the time begins.
Friend: "THAT IS SOOOO COOL," she enthuses in a loud voice to get above the resonating metal striking metal. "DO YOU GET TO HEAR THAT EVERY DAY?"
Me: "YEAH," I affirm, hesitant. "DON'T YOU THINK IT'S LOUD?"
Friend: "I GUESS SO. BUT IT'S SOOOO EUROPEAN!"
Me: "IT'S KIND OF A NUISANCE WHEN I'M ON THE PHONE, THOUGH," I feel it necessary to point out.
Friend: "SURE. BUT, IT'S EUROPE, YOU KNOW?"
Me: "AND I DON'T NEED TO WEAR A WATCH ANYMORE."
Culture Shock Stage 5: Acceptance
You feel at home and may even adopt some of the country's customs.
During a video call at 6 p.m. with U.S. based office team back home, they suddenly stop.
Coworker: "Are those church bells going off?"
Me: "What?" I ask, confused. Then I realize I hadn't noticed the steeple bells across the street this time. "Oh, sorry about that. They do that every day at 11 in the morning and 6 in the evening. Let me turn the volume down."
Coworker: "That's pretty neat. A Swiss church right across the street!"
Coworker 2: "I'd love to hear that every so often. I sure miss those European churches."
Me: "I will, too," I say, knowing my contract here won't last forever.
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