WARNING! This is an unnecessarily long post; therefore, if you don’t have time to read a novel, you might want to come back later.
I have been in Switzerland for a little more than two weeks. When I arrived in Geneva with 45 strangers (38 of which are girls), it was pouring down rain (POURING) and I was a little unsure that I made the right decision. It didn’t help that I had amazing farewells from both my friends in Washington and California. I was fortunate enough to spend my last weekend in the Pacific Northwest with five of my favorite people and our favorite band (Flogging Molly) at the Gorge, in George. In addition, I went to San Francisco and was reminded why it would take a colossus natural disaster to stop me from returning in a year (I mention both these instances because my experiences with all of those people are equally, if not more, deserving of a blog).
Anyway, after a couple days of rain, August concluded, the sun came out, and I was feeling jet lag free. Geneva is a beautiful city, very clean and organized. There are a lot of banks, watches, chocolate, and to my surprise, swans. Swans being such a regal looking bird, I figure the Swiss just imported them and put them on the lake to add to the majestic setting. Can’t complain about the people though, I’ve butchered the French language in everyway possibly and I’ve yet to receive any “stupid American” comments. From our youth hostel, a couple of kids from the two groups and myself went out into Geneva to experience the nightlife and take advantage of the fact that we can all legally drink for the first time.
The first couple nights were fairly uneventful; however, Friday, our last night in Geneva before our home stay, we met a lot of other students studying in Geneva, we went to a Swiss Brewery and shared a 5 L tap (like a small keg that they put on your table), and went to an outdoor discotech (including a DJ accompanied by African Bongo players) that was situated on an island between the two banks of the Rhone River. Any doubt I still had that Geneva didn’t offer things for young people was shattered. It was nice to spend our first days in Geneva with the other group and make friends with some of them because after orientation we don’t take part in any of the same activities.
On Saturday morning, September 1st, we drove on a bus north along Lake Geneva for about 20 minutes and arrived in a small city named Nyon. We unloaded the bus and went into a hotel where both groups sat nervously in the conference room. Before we arrived, I thought it would be funny to scare every cramming (like they hadn’t studied for their French exam) by telling them about how, “when I went on the high school version of SIT in Costa Rica, we entered a community center in our village and all the families were sitting around in a huge circle waiting for us.
Then, they made us stand in a line called our names one by one like we were getting auctioned, during which time I was only thinking how awkward it would be when my family tried to speak to me in Spanish and I simply responded with hola.” Fortunately, SIT organized it so that we showed up first and the families second. Joking about the upcoming moment of truth made the whole thing more comical than nerve racking. I even took pictures of everyone waiting nervously so they can be reminded of how they felt, further down road.
So Anita (mom), Damien (brother, 12 years), and Coralie (sister, 6 years), showed up after about half the families. Anita walked in and looked at me with a confused look (I must not look the same as my picture). Once I realized she didn’t recognize me, I took off my head-band, smiled, nodded my head, and mouthed “oui.” The first couple minutes were interesting, but once she realized I didn’t really speak French, we spoke in English. We then drove to the edge of the lake in Nyon and picked up Virginie (sister, 8 years).
There were tons of people at the lake because it was “Jour Desportes” or day of sports in all of Nyon so all athletic activities in the city were free. One of the things they had at the lake was a huge tank (human fish bowl in which the three kids and Anita had all received free “scuba” lessons earlier that day). Next thing I know, I was breathing underwater, it was a fairly surreal experience.
Later that day, we went to their house located on the edge of the Village de Prengin (5 minute drive from Nyon, pretty much the sweetest town with a castle and really nice old houses). Their house (duplex) is a lot bigger than I thought it would be (three floors with a basement and wine cellar, packed with wine I might add) and I have my own comfortable room. There I met Jean-Pierre (dad), and we had a big lunch (main meal of the day on weekends when everyone is home). That night I went to the annual village party (couldn’t have arrived on a more eventful day). There was a huge tent with long wooden tables. They had a band, traditional Swiss cuisine (veal sausage and rocklette, which consists of a cheese wheel and a special melting machine that evidently every swiss family owns, kind of hard to explain), local wine and Swiss bear. Even though I couldn’t have really long conversations with many of the people I was introduced to, it was a lot of fun, I drank and laughed and by the end felt like I had been initiated into the community. I saw one of the other guys who lives in my town with his host sister and we met up and walked to a pub in Nyon (gives you an idea of how close the city is) with her friend who is Irish. They are 16 and 17 and both speak English perfectly. It was definitely the best day thus far in Switzerland and probably the most eventful experience with a host family on the first day of any of the kids in the group (every kid in the group lives in different house across the canton (county)).
Meeting my family and finding out where I would be living for the next 14 weeks was the last thing to be revealed and I couldn’t be happier with the outcome. My host mom is amazing. She says everything in French, then repeats in slower French, and then if I still don’t understand, she repeats in English and during the whole process she is smiling. She said her main goal is to make me fatter and fluent. I’ve had a different type of meat every night, including deer, escargot (snail), and horse. Most Swiss French meals also include lots of bread, cheese, and chocolate if you desire (fondue is also a big thing). I had wine with dinner for the first couple nights until I realized that the reason why I could never do my millions of pages of reading was because the wine was making me fall asleep (now, wine on weekends only).
The kids are the cutest kids in the world. I unintentionally taught my host mom chores, so now it is my chore to read a French bedtime story to the girls (which really means that I try to read and Virginie corrects my pronunciation on every other word. Damien is a very creative kid, I hope I am a good role model for him. Jean-Pierre speaks the best English of the family and after dinner, the parents and I usually sit and talk for a while. He drives planes as a hobby and he said he would take me in the Cessna someday.
I am free to come and go when I please and they gave me a bike and a lock so I sometimes ride to Nyon at night and have a drink with kids from the group at the Pubs. Currently, the Rugby World Cup is playing so all the rugby players go to the pubs and watch the matches. It’s a good cultural experience, but sometime the pubs are too packed and I have to watch where I stand because there are televisions on every wall and they are not happy when they can’t see.
Every morning I wake up at 7, and take the bus to the train station in Nyon. I meet up with all the kids from my group in Geneva at the SIT office. I’ve already learned a lot. We had a lecture from the number one expert on the UN earlier this week and that was a humbling experience. Part of his lecture included the most articulate Bush bashing I’ve ever heard. I think some people took it a little personal. We also went to the Red Cross and had really good lectures on International Humanitarian Law. And we also went to the UN and received our official badges that give us access to the UN fortress (library included, which means that I can now say “Yeah, I worked in the UN… caughcaughLibrary.” In general, I don’t have much access to the internet here in Europe, which is going to take some getting used to academically. Since nothing is open on weekends and everything closes at five, I am going to have to do something about my little procrastination problem (especially because I already have a 10 page paper due in a week). As for French, sometimes it can get exhausting but it’s coming.
As for the rest of my activities, life has been fairly simple so far. I’m sure those of you from Washington will recognize the similar climate and landscape in the pictures. Many things are similar in that respect. I went on a hike in the hills behind Nyon and it was epic (I’m looking forward to getting a closer view of the Alps soon). My host mom called the Nyon soccer team and asked if I could train with them and they said I just had to go and talk to them some day (we’ll see about that). I think it will be a good way to meet more locals and practice French.
This was an abnormally long post, so if I bore you, I apologize. And if you (Suzanne and Coco) found it riveting, enjoy it because it will be the only one of its kind. I would love to keep you all informed with my life as much as possible in the upcoming year since you all mean a lot to me and I won’t get many opportunities to speak with you; however, I usually fail when it comes to developing habits (like posting on a blog regularly), but you can always hope for a miracle. If I were you I wouldn’t check for a post ever day but I would check every two weeks.
Therefore, I miss and love you all deeply and I hope to hear about your lives in some form or another, you can either:
- post a comment on this BLOG
- e-mail me: jlucy@usfca.edu
- or call me on my new cell number: 011 (to call inter.) 041 076 240 7229
Peace, love, and don’t think it hasn’t been charming,
Max
The day after we returned to Nyon, a few girls and I took a train to Munich, Germany, for the opening day of OKTOBERFEST! On the train, we met a 22-year-old local, Damien, who was returning home to attend the event for the 7th time as a drinker and he let us know everything foreigners don’t know about Oktoberfest (information I wouldn’t have received if I wasn’t traveling with 4 American girls). The next day, I ended up meeting him at 6 am (6 hours before the start of the festival) by myself because the girls were too impatient to wait for him, and we went to the oldest “tent” (1 of 16 temporary beer halls the size of soccer fields). We luckily got into the tent; however, the girls didn’t because the other door they were crammed in front of stopped letting people in because it broke due to the mob that was attempting to push through to grab one of the limited seats available inside. I didn’t meet up with them again for 9 hours when the tent doors finally opened again to let more people in. Though I did feel kind of bad that they didn’t get in, being the lone foreigner with Damien and all of his friends (all 18-24, speak English, and were astonishingly nice) made for likely the most authentic experience anyone could ever hope for at Oktoberfest. 
Being the oldest tent, it is where the mayor of Munich and the prime minister of Bavaria tap the first barrel of beer of the festival (everyone booed when the prime minister was announced as if he was George W. himself, you’ve got to love the honesty of the laymen). Furthermore, because this tent happened to be the hardest to get into on the first day (especially if you didn’t know to show up at 6), the demographic was pretty much 3,499 to one/locals to foreigner, no one leaves because they know they can’t get back in, and everyone was dressed in lederhosen and St. Polly girl outfits (slight exaggeration, but generally true). We drank, ate, sang, and danced at the same table from 9 am until the tent closed at 10:30. Some things I learned, “It’s not how much you drunk, but how thirsty you are,” some people think Oktoberfest is about only about beer, and I LOVE BAVARIANS. I would willingly go into more detail, but I’d prefer to elaborate when I return home (just remember to ask me how was Oktoberfest?). 
