A lazy trip to Jungfraujoch

Among the places to see in Switzerland, there is this place called Jungfraujoch that holds the record of being the highest train station in Europe, accessible by public transportation. I was tempted to check what all the fuss was about, and also because the weather was starting to be a little too hot down at the sea level. Switzerland has this advantage of having extensive railways all over its small territory, so for a weekend, there is always a place worth visiting without loosing phone network or 3G access.

First off, I had to get to Interlaken, the starting point of all adventure seeking in the area. It is a hub for hikers, paragliders, or families from the Bern area seeking some rest from playing in the lakes of Thun and Brienz. The train runs so close to the water one is tempted to put a hand out and touch the fresh water on a  hot day.

As I left with my backpack on Saturday, I was packed lightly, with a camel bag for water, a change of knickers, a change of t-shirt, 2 warm sweaters and a ski vest for altitude. I didn't forget a hat, sunglasses and sunscreen. However, as I had to change trains in Bern, I realized I forgot a change of pants, and had to wear a pair of leggings only while taking off my hiking shorts for washing (yep, that time...) . I was lucky it was a busy, dark station and I managed to get to Interlaken without dirtying more clothes. I remembered there was a a grocery store in front of the train station, and I grabbed food and the necessary to make my stay comfortable.

After a quick cold shower at the hotel, I played it by ear by checking out the nearest attraction, which was the funicular to Harder Kulm. It was only about 10min ride, but cost 27CHF for a return ticket (I hold a 50% card so that was alright).

Climbing backward, I could see the whole Interlaken and soon the 2 lakes and the snowy mountains in the background. It was thrilling, yet uncomfortable with the heat inside the cabin. At the top though, the view of the 2 lakes, Brienz at the East and Thun on the West of Interlaken was topped byt he view of the creamy snowy mountains that was calling me.

Brienz lake

 

Interlaken

Thun lake

There was a platform hanging on emptiness in front of a cafe restaurant, and all these landscapes and the height would make me breathless. Unfortunately I forgot to get some water with me, and didn't really want to fork out more money, so I took the ride down the funicular towards Brienz lake, to try to catch a boat tour. However, the boat just left and the next one was 2h later. Instead, I explored the Interlaken Ost station and discovered the lockers area to store my things the next days. 

Then I started walking toward Interlaken West station, passing by the main road in town with the Casino, luxurious brand names, dozens of paragliding booths, and the landing green. I returned along the river that was so tempting I almost jumped in to cool down, but I didn't bring a swimming suit. I then sat down to see the paragliders land against a backdrop of blue sky and eternal snow.

After that, it was time to take an early rest. I enjoyed some NHK music program and some Arirang shows before dozing off.

When the alarm went off at 6am, panic followed disorientation, but then I quickly came to my senses, munching on cereal bars and overthinking on what to bring along, the backpack or just the camera bag. In the end, I left everything in the locker at the station, even the precious camel bag, bring only 2 warm jackets and enough money and a bottle of water. 

The train to Lauterbrunnen was empty when leaving Interlaken, but it filled up along the way. By the time we got to Kleine Scheideg, it was packed, and everyone had to change train, which was a rushed affair on the station platform. There were even trains catered specifically for groups of Asian tourists.  While people watching,  I tried to guess what they were saying, depending if they were Koreans, Japanese or Chinese. 

From Kleine Scheideg, the funicular train stopped twice to viewpoints behind thick glass, showing off the sea of glacier.

 

Then 50min from the terrace of Kleine Scheidegg station, we arrived on top, around 10am. The battle for viewpoints and discretion started there, as I was trying not to be squashed between groups. The place was very organized in a sense that all the things that can be done at that altitude were clearly signaled and labeled. It was very accessible as well, with lifts and escalators and restrooms. So one only had to follow the flow of people or the signs. It was family friendly, with snow fun park outside (zip lines, snow boards, skiing, luge) and group friendly (group restaurants, huge viewing platforms). Individual tourists like me had to just work on timing to have a picture taken without a group looming in the background. But it was feasible and I spoke to a lot of Japanese people.

 The main attraction for me was the Sphinx, the highest science research observatory in Europe. It was the scene of the main viewing platform, and also still had areas prohibited to the public, although only a weather research centre seemed to remain.

Another cute attraction was the Ice Palace, which was a gallery tunnel of carved in the ice, with sculpted ice illustrating various local elements (although I don't think they had penguins up there!)

Finally, there was an access to the outside of that crowded place, and there were even adventurous hikers climbing slowly to the top of the Eiger. personally I was interested in crossing the Aletsch glacier, but that would be another trip.

 

Altitude and fresh air digging in my stomach, I sat down for lunch at one of the 2 restaurant (one is a self service Indian restaurant) and ordered the commemorative menu. However, being inside, the lack of air started to manifest and my body suddenly was feeling suffocated and dizzy. I struggle with the soup, took off many clothes, and finally finished the 3 course lunch. I was struggling to stay conscious and went outside for air again before queueing for the train to go back.

The trip down could have been the opportunity to explore the area between stations by foot, but the amount of crowd was discouraging. I could not risk to take the later trains, knowing that more climbers would have the same idea. I was already standing in the packed train for the most part of the journey back, even through the detour of Grindelwald. In that sense, i could not explore the beautiful area and lakes around Grindelwald.

I was dripping sweat in my jacket, in a packed train, in the sun at 25C and I was out of water. The camel bag was promptly emptied. I washed off what I could in Interlaken station, and hopped in the Intercity air conditionned train back to Bern. The train was pleasantly empty, but again filled up along Spietz and Thun as people were going home from their playful weekend on the lake or in the mountains.

The area deserves a revisit, as there are so many things to do. Only 3h from Geneva by train, it is very pleasant and colourful in the summer. Until next time then..

My longest dream in Japanese

Every so often, if I watched several episodes of a jdrama or jmovie, I had a dream where I would speak or here some Japanese expressions or words. Last night however, maybe because I finished a marathon of Hungry and started Legal High, my dream had a full episode in Japanese.

I was staying at a guesthouse, a typical Japanese pension, and preparing for a hike. D. was in my dream  which was a surprise since I've only known her for 2 weeks, and we ended up looking for direction on a map in English. As usual though, we were having a discussion in Japanese, and somehow, like any dream, the setting in my recollection changed.

We were attending class suddenly and the teacher was explaining some situation: a list of events on a timeline based on a paragraph. Then D. interrupted and asked a question about one of the event that got misplaced on the timeline, and I agreed with her. But the teacher ignored her and proceeded with her monologue. So I myself interrupted and naturally formed a correct grammatical sentence, asking a question and insisting the teacher answer and explain.

その ことば まだ って が あります から でんしゃ きません
でしょう
"sono kotoba 'mada' tte arimasu kara, densha kimasen deshou!"
translated into "that word 'not yet' is there so the train has not come, has it?

I insisted and insisted, drawing out more exemple of the usage of まだ...
Then the alarm went off and I went まじで (seriously...)

The brain is such a magical element....

Being friend and a godmother

I sometimes wonder if I'm not the worst friend: never calling, forgetting birthdays. My only redeeming feature is the obsession of sending my friends a postcard when I travel somewhere far and exotic. Which is the only regular correspondence I get to write these days to give some news to all my friends who are all over the places.

Of course, having friends nearby does not guarantee that we would hang out often, a J. told me in Newcastle. Everyone has their lives, their rhythm and it is difficult to meet up regularly,  Sex in the City style. So once a year I try to be a good friend and pay a visit. This time, I went to be a godmother as well, and meet my soon to be 3 year old godchild again.

He is going to pre-school in September and I racked my brain for something that could be useful but gave up with coloring book and stickers..I was looking for a blouse but all they had was plastic and vinyl blouses, which were very ugly.

I woke up at 5am on Saturday to take a 7:40 train to Aix en Provence to meet them, and M. was shy and pretending to sleep in the car until we got to the farmer's market and shopped for vegetables. S and C were as their usual calm and I really love their couple dynamic. Because the weather was scorching hot and it was high season for tourists on the beach, we waited until 18h to go to the beach and have a picnic.

 

We took the highway adin 30min we were in La Ciotat. We first headed towards the Figuerolles, which was accessible through a descent along fancy residentce and restaurant, and a view over the geological rock formation that was the local curiosity.

 

We didn't stay long and soon climbed back up to get to the other beach for the picnic. C took a dive in the 27C water, and M was playing at wetting rocks. We dined on chicken, cherry tomatoes, potato chips, grapes and melon. S was on a  day diet without fiber as she was to undergo a digestive endoscopy and other check ups, so she was on a rice and chicken and meringue diet.

We got back home satisfied and tired, took a nice hot shower and slept like a rock until Sunday 7a, when my body clock impulsively woke me up, despite the absence of any sound I could then hear M. babbling to his parents. But I stayed in bed until I felt too hot and th toilet was calling. After a breakfast on freshly baked pain au chocolat, M and I worked on collecting pine balls when his Mom were doing some real gardening. It was my bonding time with the little man, and we did play nice. We checked the swimming pool temperature, which was only 26C, so we waited till the afternoon to play in the pool.

C came back from his regular Sunday mountain bike excursion, we hung the laundry in the blazing sun, we picked (and ate) some late strawberries and tomatoes for lunch, and soon we had to send C to buy meat for the bbq. While C prepared for lunch, S and I tuned her harp that C made for her, and we tried to play some of her old pieces. I even tried to accompany her while she sung her old motets. It was the first time I played the harp, and the first time we attempted to make music together, but it felt great!

Lunch was the scene of some discipline drama for M, who was punished for not obeying. It was the first time I saw S yell and be that angry....After lunch we all had a nap...

After the nap, before M finished his, we took a dip int he pool to get refreshed before everyone would pack for Monday again. 

Sundays are great, really...and I miss them already.

Climbing the Saleve

Saturday was D.'s day off so we decided to go climb the Saleve. It was supposed to rain but when we met up, it was dry enough and not above 24C, a perfect compromise to allow us to stay cool. We took the bus up to the border and walked to France after alighting at the bus terminus. We weren't sure of the direction or path to take, but we followed 2 guys that seemed like they knoew where they were going. Just in case though I stopped at the post office and asked one of the customers, who confirmed we were right on our way and he also kindly provided more specific directions to the start of the climbing trail. Outside D. told me the guys also walked back to ask fo direction, so we overtook time, while laughing at each other.

We walked away from the funicular, along train track, then a bridge across the highway, and we were at the bottom of the mountain. The path was slippery with pebbles and gravels, but not as rocky as the previous climb I attempted. We were under the shades of the pine trees and a light rain was scattering above us to keep us refreshed. I nonetheless was sweating buckets and took many breaks to catch my breath.

Some parts of the trail was so slippery that they had a metal ramp along them. Some sections were made of stairs which quite high steps. We met some other climbers in ballerina shoes, or some running down the hill like kamikazes. The guys were ahead when we started the climb, but somehow, when D. and I were taking a break on the stairs, they appeared ever so nonchalantly. They apparently got lost.

For me, the most challenging part of the climb was of course the physical effort. but for D. it was the fact that she had to speak I French, since she was more athletic and seemed to take a stroll in the park. That gave me enough time to focus on my stepping and breathing. The subject of the conversation naturally settled on her experience in Japan and her favourite dramas, so she was free to use every vocabulary she knew to express herself.

After crossing a village in the valley, we managed to get a view of the land blow us, and of Geneva.

Then we found the guys behind us again during a break, because apprently they had to stop because of the rain as they didn't bring raincoats....eish, amateurs!

I dragged myself through the trail, but because we were talking about things we liked, and D. kept on stopping to eat wild raspberries, time flew by an the soreness of my legs disappeared by magic.  I also started to eat the berries, and even had a wild tiny but fragrant strawberry. Nothing better than food to make you forget about pain.

 Eventually, after about 4h climb, we got to the top station of the funicular, and admired the view over Geneva. The weather was not sunny and clear so we could not see the Jura across the plain, but we could see the whole Geneva, with the stadium, the lake, the jet d'eau. We decided to have lunch next to the small boot bu it started to rain, so we took shelter under the jungle gym, that felt like a tree house.

We shared her onigiri (rice balls) and my sandwiches, as well as my green tea and her apples. We then found out we were not on the top of the mountain! So we had to climb another 30min to get to the top. What appeared at our destination was totally unexpected, as it was a Buddhist temple.

 

We enjoyed the view once again and decided to explore the surrounding area. We finally got to a known landmark, one that we can recognize from Geneva, the telecom tower:

It was very windy and we could not really rest again as the day was advancing fast (it was 15:30) and we still had to face the descent. So we took a last picture and started to walk while chatting about our favourite asian actors. Well, this got our blood pumping and soon we were expressing our fangirls' love in the middle of the forest to Lee Min Ho, Won Bin, Abe Hiroshi, Oguri Shun, etc...

Although the descent was quite slippery due to the mud, dust and gravel, we managed to be at the bottom of the funicular in about 2-3 hours. We changed into dry, less smelly clothes, finished the leftover food, and hopped on the bus. I took off my climbing shoes to experience foot orgasm in flip flops. Unfortunately, my muscles strted to cool down as well, and soreness took over my legs and lower back. The walk from the bus stop to the house was like the walk of shame, dragging my bag and shoes...but it was a good day.

My French for your Japanese...

I often wondered how I could meet someone that had the same guilty pleasures as myself. I mean the kind of hobby or pleasure that one would draw some weird stares or some "heeeehhhh" from uninitiated audience. Sure, there are more people that know and like manga, and even anime, even if they don't watch it in Japanese. So this day marked my first encounter with another fangirl.

It started out as a simple language exchange after work. We were wondering online on how to proceed, whether there were specific themes we should discuss, such as movies, books, life in Genf, or her experience in South Korea since I was planning a trip there. But eventually we decided to go with the flow. I waited for D. in the sun then took a petit beurre flavoured gelato to cool me down. We started introducing ourselves in French and continued about how we ended up in Genf while looking for a cafe to sit down and chat more comfortably.

We settled in Eaux-Vives, not far from the old town hall, and ordered green tea and Diabolo Menthe. She somehow introduced the subject of Japanese Dramas and Korean dramas, and we soon started to fervently discuss titles, characters, actors, actresses. In French, I was talking passionately, trying to use simple words. After about 30-40min in French, we switched to Japanese, and she was most at ease, as Japanese is her Major (duh!). So it was time for me to find my words, trying to fight the frustration of having too much to say and nothing to express it.

The fact that I could discuss about the series I watched was amazing, since they are all online and in language noone around me understands (Japanese, Korean). There is of course many forums online but it is more entertaining to read the entries than actually participate. Meeting someone in the physical realm was an unexpected event, and it was exhilarating. Speaking was no longer an option, it was a necessity.

Not only did we have the same interest in stereotypical housewive hobby, but we also had the same sources: dramacrazy and dramabeans. Sharing the same hobby kind of made me want to share it even more, since in a sense it became less taboo, less bizarre, knowing there are other real people enjoying the same interest....

And so I happily share my favourite and last watched series:

Latest kdramas:
-God's quiz (season 1 to 3)
-The moon that embraces the sun

Latest jdrama:
-Rich man poor woman
-Tokkan
-Hungry
-Legal High

Favourite jdrama:
-Anego
-Nodame Cantabile
-Liar game

 Favourite kdrama:
-Iris
-Personal Taste

Enjoy watching if you get tempted...

Summer at the beach...

We worked together in London, and we babbled in Japanese to practice the little words we knew then. Since then, she lived 4 years in Sydney, Australia, travelled South Asia, and got back to Germany this year. I was so happy to get in touch with her again, and it's one of those surprises in life.

She left me her sewing set, her straw and flower hats, her Christmas decorations when she left London, and it is with anxious curiosity that I wonder if I should give them back to her, in their very used state.

She endured much personal drama away from her family and I was trying my best to be cheerful and playful while we hung out on a beautiful sunny and windy Sunday. We hopped in her friend's car and drove to Excevenex, on the lake after my future apartment, and admired the kite surfers and windsurfers while catching up.

There was enough sun and wind to make us feel like we were at the ocean, as the waves kept crashing again the sand and grass. The Dutch ladies (Famke and Al) were tanning, while Wu and I  were napping and gossiping about old colleagues. It was an atmosphere of vacation, 30min drive from home, and Wu said she almost felt like she was back in Oz. I was enchanted to discover the beach so near to my soon to be built apartment, and for the first time, actually wished to be forwarded 2 years later...

As the evening approached, people started to leave, stomachs started to growl. Being a Sunday there was no nearby grocery store to grab a picnic, and all the farmer's markets already packed and closed. After a last look at the die hards on the water, and the Dent D'oche in the background which gave me some trouble, we decided to look for food as well.

So we roamed along the beach to check the menu of the different beach-side restaurants, and settled on a place that had a cover band, and an appealing roasted ham.

We waited more than an hours with a drink, because the ham wasn't cooked yet. When our plates came with a serving of ham and gratin dauphinois, we stopped singing along with the band and became so engrossed with the food that we didn't speak until everything was finished. The fact that it was much cheaper than anything we could have fond in Switzerland was also adding taste to the food! I was game for another serving of ham but decided to keep some space for dessert. However, Famke right away asked if it was possible to get seconds...! I was speechless again and happy she took the initiative, and so we ate another serving of honey roasted ham...Yiipeee!

We still got crepe and waffle for dessert, just to follow through the feeling of vacation and doing whatever we wanted to do. The buzz would lift us through our way back to Geneva, where the proximity and the reality of Monday morning was starting to sink in...

 Wu got reacquainted with her stuff she left me, and I bet it felt like when I came back to Raleigh and noticed the things I used to have...a memory of past lives...

Summer in Geneva

Summer day 2012

Today I dressed up pretty with an ironed white shirt and my red linen skirt, and my black and white open toe shoes, to celebrate summer. The weather was nice and I was starting late so had enough time to pamper myself. I hesitated to put my liberty tie on but I figured I would be too dressed up for work and everyone would be in their jeans anyway.

I had an awful day but I managed to finish everything I had to do. I thought about going out to hear the bands playing all around town, since it is the music festival (fete de la musique), but I longed the comfort of my room. Besides, I could just sing out my frustration, now that I have a proper stand to put my lyrics, and a karaoke microphone to sing into!

My terrace is blooming with sunflowers, lavender and tomato flowers, my laundry is washing, and I sing for myself the foreign songs that express my tiredness: tomorrow is Friday!

Let's hike! My survival trip to 2000m

And so I woke up excited to start my first ever hiking trip. I bought comfortable shoes that cost me a kidney and 2h deciding, a 22L backpack that has back ventilation, middle pocket and more, lots of hiking pants, and a walking stick. For sure they were not only for this day, but also for future hikes and the trip in September. I even got a 2L camel bag.

A&S picked me off at 7:45am on a beautiful cloudless morning. We then picked up Lily as well an drove to France towards Bernex. In the car we talked about fainting, accidents, first aids and many more scary things. We could see our destination from afar: la Dent d'Oche. Although I was anxious, I brought enough to survive in case I decided to get lost: Swiss knife, 6 cereal bars, 2L water in the camel bag, first aid kit, a dynamo torch lamp, my fully charged mobile, an apple, 2 packs of tissues, my VT  fleece jacket,  a change of pants (one of the hikers pants), and a walking stick. I was probably missing the emergency flares....

Two other couples joined us and I had to relieve myself on the parking lot before starting on the path that was more has 20% sloped upward with rocks. They warned me the first part was difficult. I huffed and puffed and used my old lady cane as best I could, stopping every so often but advancing nonetheless. The boys were having a  chat while walking behind me, while I was struggling and focusing on where to put my foot next.

After the rocky slopes under the shades of pin trees, we finally emerged onto a valley between 2 beautiful green sloped mountains, where cuddly cows were ringing their bells merrily and refreshing my numbed mind.

We had to go through electrified fences, more rocky paths to finally get to a water point, almost 1h30 after our start from the parking lot. The water was so fresh I washed my head until I got a brain freeze. We had climbed about 400m and it was decision time for the group: go straight for the peak and eat there or go for the lake, have a meal and split there.

So we went for the meal first, and 2h later we were eating at about 500m from where we started.

During the meal, I reasoned that I would also try for the peak since I've been thus far, and also because there would not be another opportunity to go for it: just thinking back at the huffing and puffing would surely not motivate me to come back!

So after a short lunch break where everyone took off their shoes to asphyxiate innocent mountain fauna an flora, we were back on our feet, and climbing hard for the other 500m. We met many other trekkers running down the mountain after seeing the top, and encouraging me. It was more difficult since I wasn't as fresh, and although i coul manage my breath, I was afraid my legs would give in. But I made it to the 2000m to see the lake and Montreux on one side, and the Alps and Mont Blanc on the other side, surrounded by cute mountain goats.

The peak was still out of reach but we soon headed for it,  only to be told back by the boys that it was too dangerous and that even they would not go through. So we got back down the mountain disappointed, but also happy to go back and enjoy the walk down. Our enjoyment soon changed into pain as our toes were taking our weight in the downward slopes. At least there was no way of getting out of breath.

The guys came across the path to climb to the peak form another side and went for it. We ladies came down to the water point to rest and get refreshed before returning to the parking lot with the promise of ice cream. We eventually saw the guys giving signs on the peak and starting to walk down the mountain. So we left as well, arguing that they would catch up with us anyway. And sure enough when we got back to the pine forest, there they were!

We took an easier path down to the parking lot, and exchanging the trekking shoes for flip flop made it so worthwhile! Some hike for the view, some hike for the challenge of going to the top, and some hike to feel that relief of taking your shoes off...I hiked to test the equipment I bought at first, but also glad to have accomplished such a seemingly impossible task for me.

Relaxing around an ice cream cup each, they told me they were impressed I didn't give up because it was a difficult trek for a beginner. I was a bit vexed because the thought never crossed my mind. But it also reminded me how strong I can be despite my initial fears: if I take it slowly, catch up my breath and have enough water, I can do it.

We all yelled at A for tricking us into doing this hike, since she told us she did it with her mom. We also joked that the next days would be the most painful days...But the memory of the view is soothing enough...I might not have been to the 2100m top, but reaching 2000m after a 1000m altitude hike was my first hiking achievement.

I have started training and I will hike more...next month:P
I got home at 8pm, showered and crashed into a deep sleep.

I'm ready for summer!

Alright, the tomatoes and sunflowers were planted! Most of the pots have seeds waiting to sprout and give me some nice garden by july and august. After a rainy May, the terrace is not looking too bad.

An ice cream and a show

Juggling of a football, climbing of a street lamp, impromptu band singing on the steps of Sacre Coeur, opportunists selling bottles of beer under the sunny Paris sky, and us enjoying the view with ice cream and a chat.

Meet Jeff, of Montmartre

While on a layover in Paris, I made a lunch appointment with Laeti to bring her swimming towels she forgot last summer. She had a small studio at the foot of Montmartre, in the IXeme arrondissement, and I was happy to visit a new area of Paris. From the metro Notre Dame de Lorette, we grabbed a small lunch in a Chinese restaurant in her street, and walked leisurely towards the Sacre Coeur, seen here and there between the buildings.

The weather was somewhat sunny and not warm enough to make us sweat, due to a chilly wind lingering under the shades. We strolled slowly, window shopped, caught up on work and the election results. She showed me the cafe des 2 moulins, from the movie Amelie, and we admired the rooftop gardens and the view on Paris from the heights of the streets. I also took note of the different eateries and bakeries along the way, reminding myself I was not hungry.

After a nice windmill at a corner (le moulin de la Galette, which inspired the painting by Renoir), which is now an expensive garden restaurant, my eyes suddenly were staring with fascination at a window displaying an amazingly detailed maquette of a ranch. Inside, someone was motioning invitedly and opened the door. I hesitantly entered the gallery, while whispering to Laeti how I always end up in weird situations like these.

I was fascinated by the maquette, and he seemed eager to find out whether we were artists, which we were not. But he played on my vanity and insisted I was one, since I write, sometimes paint int he middle of the night, and play music (for only myself). He described the maquette in details, indicating the inside of the cabin, which has  dining table with drawers, and inside there are things too, or how the moss is growing, and that it is a hobby of his to make this little ranch. It is a maquette of about 2x1m and the details extend to the mouse in the rocks of the well, or the bird's nest in the tree that contains eggs, or the toilet paper roll in the toilet outside the cabin.

And much like the expat American that he is, he invited us in the back of the shop, where a sunny room with a chimney was occupied by the double bed, and the back garden was seen through old Provencal ceiling to floor windows. Outside had an air of south of France, with a "ceci n'est pas un cafe" colorful store referring to René Magritte's "ceci n'est pas une pipe".  It didn't feel like Paris, wit Bob the cat shyly evading our caresses between pots of plants of a cozy English garden.

He said the backyard kept him sane and brings him joy and calm. I understood and agreed with his point of view, and could only marvel at his achievement of getting this haven of peace and quiet in the middle of Paris. His encounter was one that I remember for his  detailed ranch, which I could look at for hours.

While leaving Jeff's gallery, I was somehow struck with this thought:
" My ideal man would fascinate me this much, in his work and peculiarity, his passion, and artistry"

I was glad Jeff was married and too old to my taste, because I am still superficial despite my nerdiness....

An exercise in focus

As the days go by, monotonous and unnoticed, it was refreshing to suddenly concentrate all my focus in one single small task: balancing.

On a week holiday at a waterpark resort, I was tempted by the thrill of treetop adventure. However, after seeing how high the circuit was, and witnessing another group crossing platform after platform with worried looks, I became deflated and even sick in the stomach.

Nonetheless, because I initiated the idea, and because there would be no other time to try it, I went ahead and climbed last. I was worried about getting dizzy and fear the heights, so much that my legs felt like cotton before I even climbed the first wobbly stairs.

In a matter of minutes, it became clear that it wasn't at all what I expected. I was awaiting nausea and fear from the heights, but what welcomed me was pure physical effort in climbing the stairs while swaying and being restricted by my pants and shortness of leg. In addition, my arms had to pull me all the way up, and I had to find a grip comfortable enough to be repeated endlessly and hold me for a while. When I stepped foot on the first platform, my breath was taken away from the effort, as well as my strength, but I told myself not to give up. After all, kids were doing it in the morning, so I had to work myself up for the challenge.

It was interesting that I didn't even look down once, to see how high it was. I was instinctively attracted by the tree trunk, which I hugged and kept close while I proceeded to the next path. My eyes were fixated on the cable to cross to get to the next platform. I could hear encouragement ad jokes down below me, but they were easily blocked as soon as I set foot on that cable. From all that remained in my focus was the cable, my feet, and my breath.

For the remaining of the next 45-50min, I would look only at the green ropes, wooden plank and cables that I had to cross. Each gesture was carefully executed with a conscious breath out, while my brain was counting 1 to 10 at each breath. Funnily enough, I felt strangely reassured by the counting, and a wild sense of achievement was always felt after the number 10, even if I was in the middle of the air, mid-cable or mid-circuit.

I experienced a brain blank at the 3rd exercise, but a suggestion from the instruction below helped and I was soon back to counting. There were some exercises that could be done by just walking on cables instead of swinging the rope or climbing the wall. Although I found it exciting to try, I always opted for the cable, reasoning that at least there was something below my feet.

That feeling was challenged at the rope sliding exercise. I could not talk myself into letting go of the ground. Eventually I listened to someone suggesting to just sit down and let harness support me. Zab was also waiting for me across the rope, so I let go and made it to the next platform, to be told there were 2 more of these before the end...

 

As the obstacles appeared, my body and mind would work really hard to focus and balance. I forgot I had a harness and every step was to advance to the next platform. I realize now I did not even see the surrounding landscape. But after every exercise, I would let go of all my breath and relax all my muscles, as if I was about to faint, before focusing on the next obstacle.

I haven't been focusing so hard ever, so it was very rewarding to learn how I reacted and what I do in such stressful situation. My mind is a strange thing, content to count form 1 to 10 to abstract everything else but the task at hand, partitioned into tiny gestures that suddenly have its importance: the sliding of a foot, the bending of knees, the breathing out (I cannot remember when I breath in!).

I hope to be able to enjoy the landscape, the next time I climb or trek an have to challenge the height, lack of air, and physical effort involved.

"Peccato originale" - Simona Molinari

What's in a life

As we get blessed with a new life, my thoughts went to the lives that ended. I wanted to share the excitement and joy with the ones that departed. And it made me wonder what their thoughts were about before they let out their final breath. As I refused to dwell in sadness, my thoughts came back to the livings, and to the proud parents. Even as an aunt I am so proud and want to give everything to this little one, and even bought gold, which I cannot send via DHL... I can only imagine how a parent would feel. 

Although happy and welcoming of the child I find myself sad that this world is the way it is. I now understand why people shelter their children. But even we turned out alright, why worry?

Because what's in a life? Something sweet, something bitter and something sour. The sweetness comes in small bundles, after much bitterness and sourness. It is as if it is only reachable because our efforts made spent our energies and we came to settle on a state where it suddenly became sweet for a while, like painfully running a long distance and settling on the feeling of the finish line coming closer, finishing the run in sweet pain, and being even more sore the few next days.

So even if it is painful, sorrowful, worrisome, let me settle and focus on an enjoyable moment: my grand mother has a grand-grand child, my brother has a son to raise, I have a nephew to dot, and the mother and child seem healthy. I will not project into the future, and enjoy the moment. Because for the child, his foremost joy is having both parents and feeling their warmth and love.

Adventures in couchsurfing

Back in 2009 I stumbled on the couchsurfing community by a strike of luck. At that time, I was in serious preparation for my first trip to Asia and rummaged through many sites before settling on that site. The main idea is to crash at your stranger of choice for a few nights before moving on during your travels. This also includes that as a community member, you can host the traveler of your choice as well.

In addition, one can also just join an event locally, usually initiated by a local community member, and promoting a local shops, food, or event. it seems like a 3D extension of all the social networking sites, with the added common interest, which is finding a place to sleep or a place to enjoy local activities.

So in 2009 I was on the receiving end, meeting tokyoites at monja dinner near Tsukiji fish market, or having beer and tomato juice drink in west Tokyo. I also met the now currently full time geisha who hosted a wonderful nabe dinner for a couple of us travelers. With new friends to exchange emails and news, I was also able to host F. during her summer trip in London, allowing me to experience a somewhat subdued couchsurfing hosting. She was no longer a stranger after all.

Lately, I decided to check out the local couchsurfing community in Geneva. What lured me out was a dinner at Gaya, a korean restaurant. The turn out was decent, with 12 people from around Geneva and various experience with couchsurfing. There were no travelers this time and the majority of attendees were actually living in France across the border. The dinner organizer just returned from a trip in South Korea and we are keeping in touch for various tips she might give me. It seems there was a weekly meeting where a lots of au pair and CERN interns socialize. I will need to check out those meetings but I am less thrilled since it involves mainly a bar.

Last Friday, which was a bank holiday (Good Friday), 2 Chinese students doing exchange in Portugal couchsurfed at my place for a rainy night. We arranged for the stay a week ago on the site, and exchanged a couple of emails for the details. However there were no  personal information or civilities exchanged, and I didn't even look thoroughly at their profile. Instead, I just rapidly viewed the feedback on the profile and accepted their surf request.

It was with anxiety that I picked the 2 of them from the train station after work. And because it was their first time in Geneva, and they were left on their own since morning to roam an empty town, I felt compelled to give them a tour of my own: walk to my place...There are not many thing I know about this town, but somehow we took pictures of the giant chess boards, blooming magnolia trees, Grand Theatre, fancy closed shops. The main hurdle was at home, when we had to make conversation, a skill I certainly lack. But fortunately, cooking dinner, going in turn in the bathroom took most of the time. And I remembered those discussions with a 8 year old English student in Indonesia (hi Bayou!) and his pop quiz:
-what is you favourite sport?
-what is your favourite music?
-Do you like coffee ? (this one is from Suju 'Oops')

It also turned out they had to catch a train at 5:30am....So basically, our encounter was short but we still managed to add each other on facebook...

I take it as an incredible experience and thinking that it would surely help in building myself some confidence in hosting, whether for future travelers, or future business.

Going by the book, movie review

I just finished watching this peculiar movie that touches upon so many things behavioural. In short, it is a long bank robbery. Or is it?
The premises are summarized as a cop who enforces the law too well without exception and who does everything he is ordered to his best of his abilities, who is then given the role of a bank robber in a police simulation...

Watch By The book here

As the robbery unfolds, the line between simulation and real robbery gets blurred easily from the viewers point of view. And it takes the character something like " if I were a real robber" to get back to the simulation situation. In fact, the the police is trying everything by the book as well, following procedures as if the a real robbery happened. The hostages are behaving naturally like real hostages as well after some resistance were crushed.

What is most interesting is the cop turned pretend robber's character: a righteous cop who needs to be a thorough thief. It may be because of my current state of mind but it is pretty much a question to the audience to me. What if you are given free reign to act out your unlawful repressed desire ?

It is very tense to watch the character maintain both his thief and cop logic, the thief doing his best to evade the police, and his cop self justifying what the thief was doing:
For example, the thief did not yield to his mother's plea to surrender. Accused of not behaving like a real thief, he indicated that his mother did not shed a singe tear, since she knew he was a cop. Hence the thief was not moved and did not surrender.

Although I hope this kind of character exists, one that can maintain its righteous belief and orientation, it was very surprising to see that the thief character did not take over, armed with rifle, money and free escape.

It is labelled as comedy, but one that is a serous comedy, asking some valid questions.

These are the signs that spring is here..

 

Let's pick a number and win big!

For a reason unknown, we started talking about a dozen of bus drivers winning the lottery at work, and somehow ended up fired up to play as a group as well. It is 10€ per 5 sets of numbers, drawn twice a week, and there are 9 of us who got absolutely pulled into it. The guys were even making plans already about what they will do, where to put the money to pay less taxes, because in Switzerland apparently 30% of your game earnings belong to taxes...


In any case, today we finalized the numbers and payment. It took us a full half day to pick the damn number, after a whole day yesterday of a strategy on how to pick numbers. one would think statistics would play a big role, but for some of the big talkers among us, it is a matter of positive energy...The conversation started to be a bit irrational so I spaced out, until they'd ask me for a number.


Somehow some numbers were called out frequently, as much as 3 times (such as the number 5, 3, 41), and we planned to have the most frequent numbers in one of the grid. That didn't go well with one for the participants because he wanted to have everyone remember the numbers we called and see which numbers would be drawn frequently and have the persons that picked those numbers pick more numbers, using that person's positive energy...he got a bit ignored and we now have a set of 5 grid that we would play for at least 8 draws, since we already paid for the month.


As soon as the numbers are set, Friday morning one person will buy the ticket and set the numbers. So one of the question today was: what do we do about the original lotto ticket? 


So all kind of scenarios started to emerge:
-the buyer will disappear with the original ticket and the money
-I had to borrow some euros to pay my entry fee, and so my lender asked: if we win tomorrow, can I get 40% of your earning then?
-If yo in big, would you still come to work?


It was all very funny and jovial but it makes me wonder what would really happen if we win, because money changes people, and on never knows until faced with the situation.

The strangest thing: pizza delivery

G. is visiting for a couple of days and just returned from a ski weekend with her parents. After catching up on our nonexistent love lives and meager career opportunities, it was dinnertime. She offered to order some delivery, and I warned her about the unavailability of reliable information on Geneva businesses online, especially on restaurants. All the nearby restaurants have no website or menu online. But we assumed the major delivery chains like Pizza Hut or Dominos would be a safe bet.

While doing other things, we decided to order online, after registering my email address, and choosing toppings etc, we managed to order after getting over the initial shock of the price: 37.50 CHF for a medium pizza with 3 toppings, plus a cheese bread and 1.5L drink (Nestea). She lives in NYC so she can eat for a whole week at that price. But this is Geneva and a pizza can cost 30CHF.

It took us 30min to order, and we set a delivery time  1h afterwards, at 20:00.

Time flew and our stomach started to crave the pizza. 20:00 came and went, and at finally at 20:30 we called both Dominos branch nearby to ask when our order would arrive. Their answer was depressing: they did not receive our order, despite the fact that I received 2 emails confirmed that our order was accepted....We gave up and decided to cook something quickly.

I started making my okonomiayaki base, with flour and eggs, to mix with the cabbage, onion and lardons that I cooked at noon. I mixed everything and prepared the pan to heat, when the bell rang...


A not bad looking delivery man was holding our order, and i still cannot wrap my head around it. Nobody supposedly received our order but we still got our pizza....1 hour late but I suppose I am glad I didn't order another one by phone...

I guess I will have okonomiyaki for the next 3 days...