1.5 years = more thoughts

As I perhaps knew it would, the longer I stay here, the more quickly time seems to slip by. Unbelievably (at least to me), I'm coming up on my 18-month anniversary of arriving in Switzerland this month.

(From this random lady's blog - she seems very nice. I hope I'm not breaking any rules)

Yeah. It's weird. My thoughts go something like this:

I should've gotten more done over this time period.  
Like what? I've made a home, made friends - I even got a job.
Yeah, but it's just part-time and it's basically teaching glorified English - it doesn't feel like a career.
But it can be - the head of the language school would love for me to develop a science writing/coaching curriculum and market it.
Yeah, but - I have no idea how to do that. Especially the marketing stuff.
Then try.
But is it even what I want to do? I mean, I like teaching, but...  
Ok, then do something else. Finish the expat guide, then FINISH A DAMN STORY and see if I can sell it.
That's a scary thought. I - uh, never can figure out how it's going to end.
I find the end when I write. C'mon, face my fears.
I face my fears every day by living in a place where they have an impenetrable oral-only language!
It wouldn't be impenetrable if I worked on it. How's that German coming along?
Not great. But sometimes I have days where I understand a lot - the days when I run into German people and not Swiss ones.
So go back to class.
I have no rational response to that. I'll go do Duolingo and pretend that's the same thing.
At least find a German conversation group.
Ok, yes. I'll do that. Good idea, self.

From this rando-guy's blog. Maybe I need to learn how to make gifs.

Great. While I'm here, good job on finally working out regularly. Try to keep that up.
Yes, I hope to. I'm excited to be able to do multiple pushups, that's a good thing.

Yes, seriously, this program is often what I use to work out with. WHATEVER WORKS, PEOPLE. Sometimes I mix it up with Pilates. Also, B drags me on a run once a week. I sulk through it - give me a work out in my own living room or give me death!

And I've traveled, seen things, been to new countries!
Kind of. I'm in Europe, where countries are closer together than states are in the US! I've only been to Italy (three times), Spain, and Germany. Oh and England. Travel's going to get harder when we have kids. And I've barely been around Switzerland, either. No Matterhorn, no Bern, no Geneva - I fail at living here.
So freakin' get up and go! Plus, we're headed to Amsterdam this month, that's new.
It is! And I'm super excited to go.
Just don't forget to work out while you're there.
We'll get bicycles.

 And by that time, I'm usually exhausted and distract myself with food. So yes, still very much a work in progress; a constant battle between feeling amazed/surprised that I've gotten as much done as I have and the feeling that I 'should' be doing more to adjust and struggling to find the motivation to do those things.

 What makes you feel like you've truly "settled" into a home, abroad or otherwise?
Do you ever celebrate your progress or struggle with motivation (or perhaps both - even simultaneously)?

Reflections on a year

January saw my one-year anniversary of arriving in Zurich, and my perspective on my new adopted home continues to evolve.

I admit, I've spent much of the last year being frustrated. Frustrated that I couldn't understand people, that I couldn't make myself understood, that I didn't know how to accomplish things or where to find things. I have always been a rule-follower, and it was unnerving to be unsure of what the rules (written and unwritten) were. Patience has never been one of my virtues, and my entire family always likes to share stories about how, as a young child, I would burst into tears at a moment's provocation when I couldn't do things, however small or absurd. As an adult, I'd like to think I'm less prone to tears, but I often feel that frustration bubble up at a moment's notice.

Among the frustration, though, are lulls - and as I settle in more, those periods last longer.

A fact that I've finally learned to accept just over the past month is that I will never fully integrate into Zurich. B and I will forever be marked as outsiders to some degree. One huge reason, obviously, is the language barrier. And it will always be there - even if, twenty years down the road, I am able to comfortably converse in German (or, more unlikely, Swiss German), I'll have an accent that immediately marks me as "other." I will never truly feel or be perceived as Swiss.

I was surprised to find that once I accepted this fact, I felt, quite unexpectedly, a sense of calm. It took me another few days to understand that this new calm came from realizing that I no longer had an unattainable, impossible goal. I won't integrate, but I can focus on building a happy, fulfilling life here. I don't have to self-isolate or surround myself with only Americans, but instead I can meet a variety of people and slowly build a network of friends who come from all over the world. And that's what I've been doing. I've met amazing Swiss women who are more than happy to speak English while I struggle with my German. I've also met wonderful people from Germany, Colombia, India, Britain, New Zealand, Korea, and South Africa (Zurich's population is 1/3 non-Swiss). I still have a long-term goal of improving my German, but that doesn't need to prevent me from making connections in the meanwhile.

The large expat community here in Zurich means there are many fascinating, interesting people to meet. Unfortunately, I have also learned that the negative side to this is that there is a high rate of turnover. I have already said goodbye to one friend that I only grew close to in the month before she left, and I got an email last week announcing the departure of another amazing woman that I didn't take advantage of getting to know well enough. I've served on the board of the American Women's Club now for five months, and at least four of the women I've gotten to know through my work there are departing the country over the next three months.

As I was discussing my new revelations with my parents over Skype, I was surprised to see them nodding. Although they've never lived abroad, they moved to a small community in rural West Virginia as adults and even, after 30 years, were still seen as outsiders. They often made connections with visiting astronomers who would only stay for two or three years before moving on. It was a surprising admission to hear - we moved to West Virginia when I was four and I am proud to have been raised there. Growing up, I was different from most of my classmates (no local relatives, no television, reading books, and a desire to leave the county all marked me as 'other'), but in my childish selfishness, I never considered that my parents would feel a similar sense of isolation.

It doesn't take a move across an ocean or a place with another predominate language to feel out of place or as if you don't belong. But if you're in that situation, please know that it's not unusual to feel that way, you're not alone, and it will change. It takes time and effort to build a community, but I firmly believe that, no matter where you go, there are warm, welcoming people that are worth getting to know and who can enrich our lives. I'm still in the midst of the process, but I am so grateful for all the wonderful people that I've met here in the past year and I am optimistic about the future.

Home in Switzerland

It still feels strange sometimes to ponder the fact that I live in Switzerland. As in, actually live, settle, permanent residence. I'm not here temporarily, my husband isn't here on an assignment for a set amount of time. This is it. Whenever that thought meanders through my brain, I get the urgent feeling that should be doing more to make my life here. Find a career, buckle down, get-up-and-go. Despite how I still feel occasionally, this is not a surreal dream.

A dream in which I am a constant foreigner. And, frankly, always will be. B and I could live here for forty years, have kids, raise them here, buy a house, and still I would be an Auslander - not Swiss. In a few years, B will fulfill strict requirements and be eligible to apply for Swiss citizenship, if he desires. But even then, he would likely be viewed as foreign by the 'true' Swiss. His looks channel his Italian grandfather, including dark hair and easily-tanned skin. He is comfortable in High German, but does not speak Schweizerdeutsch. These traits mark him as 'other.'
My family's German and English heritage means that I blend in with the crowd (and unfortunately seem to attract inquiries about directions, stores, and even occasionally random conversations on the tram), but opening my mouth immediately betrays me. Our (hypothetical) children, perhaps, would fit in. They would likely learn German, both High and Swiss, from playing with other children, absorbing languages and dialects like the sponges that children's brains are. But they would still be the children with the American mother. At a writer's group meeting I recently attended, an older American told a tale of her teenage son who was so Swiss that he admonished her for vacuuming during lunch (noise-causing 'work' such as this is forbidden in most apartments and neighborhoods after 10 pm, on holidays, Sundays, and sometimes from noon to 1 pm) and laughing too loud in a movie theater. "Man," I thought as we Americans shared a laugh, "that will so be me."

I am ambivalent when I think of this future. It is exciting in some ways - to live one's life in a culture not one's own. Switzerland offers so many things: travel, languages, an excellent standard of living, amazing transportation options, gorgeous scenery, efficient recycling, and little of the wealth disparity present in the US. It is also alienating, simply because it is not mine. I did not grow up within it, and I never know what is safe to assume I understand.

Sometimes I miss how much easier it was in the US. Language barriers wouldn't prevent me from switching fields or finding a job. Stores would be open on Sundays, I would understand the road signs, I could have a 'normal-sized' refrigerator and a slow cooker.

And now, an unexpected job opportunity has presented itself, making moving back to the US a real possibility. What to do? A question I still haven't answered (and won't for several months), but I have been surprised that as I spent time mulling the decision, I recognized within myself a reluctance to leave Switzerland. My new home. Zürich has become familiar, even as I still feel foreign within it. I don't feel comfortable here - yet. It is the 'yet' that is the sticking point. Adjusting takes time, and I know I am still in the process. My German won't always be this awful, I won't always be unemployed here. Given time, I will grow my circle of friends, find my niche.

Living in the US would perhaps be easier for me, but is it better? What should B and I be prioritizing? B has never lived in the US - although he would not have a language barrier, Switzerland is as familiar as it gets for him (yes, even more than Lima, which from all reports has drastically improved/changed in the 13+ years he has been away). We would be leaving his cultural bubble to return to mine. Even as I yearn for the familiar comfort, I somehow feel a hesitation in rejoining it.

Have you ever faced a decision that would affect practically every basic aspect of your life? How did you approach it?

Notes from a move

This is my second morning in the new apartment. I'm sitting at our kitchen table writing and I can hear  birds chirping madly in the trees out back. Unfortunately I can't roll up the shades and enjoy the sights because we don't have curtains yet, and I'm sitting around in my bathrobe. But it's still lovely to listen to!

Most pictures are from the keys handover, which happened on Friday afternoon. I'm glad that I took some pre-move, before I exploded bags and boxes all over the floors.

The kitchen. It's small, but I love that it's open on both ends. All pictures were taken with my phone, unfortunately - I have yet to find my camera in the boxes.

Brand new stove! (Ok, well, 2 years old or so). I'm not saying this is the ONLY reason we chose this apartment, but...

Here are my notes from the move and the new place:

- Family is invaluable. B's brother and parents came down from Basel to help us, and there is no way we could've done it without them. In one day, we managed to load/unload 2 van fulls of stuff, including an absurdly large, heavy clothes closet (also cheap - I admit, I was half hoping it would fall apart in the move and we'd be forced to purchase a new one). We also cleaned the entire old apartment top to bottom (saving us hundreds on hiring a move-out cleaning). Also, family makes things more fun. Not that I totally approve of tossing bags of clothes from a 2nd story balcony to try to catch in the street (ahem, B's brother), but having them help made the entire experience more enjoyable. (Note to self: Learn German faster. Become fluent, then learn Spanish. Work on that).

Living room (+ some of B's leg). This is only about half of it - it's really quite large and over looks our patio and the hill behind the apartment building.

- The walls/ceilings must be way thicker here than in the old place because even though we saw several people on Saturday while moving our stuff, I haven't heard a soul yesterday or this morning, even though our patio overlooks a playground (I thought surely someone would be there on a Sunday). It's kinda creepy, just me and the birds. If I think too hard, I can imagine that I've somehow missed the zombie apocalypse.

Master bedroom. So many windows (need so many curtains)!

- I was thrilled to discover that our patio has two (very small) flower beds! I already had plans to do some fruit/vegetable container gardening, but now I also get to dig in the dirt for decoration.

- B's first priority was to get the internet working, and he did so at around 6 am on Sunday morning. I ragged him about it pretty hard, but I'm just as addicted to it as he is, and I was happy to have it so quickly.

- I was proud of myself b/c I packed an overnight bag for us, so we had clothes and toiletries on Sunday morning when we woke up surrounded by boxes. I think got the idea off of Pinterest, and it was a good idea.

Spare room. I'm pushing for B's desk + gaming computers (yes, plural) to be in the living room so that I can make this into a craft room. Negotiations are ongoing.

- I also saw a tip on Pinterest about putting hanging clothes in trash bags, so they are easy to transport/rehang. This was a crap idea, frankly. I gave up on it after doing B's shirts. My dresses/skirts/tops are all different lengths and it was a mess. I ended up keeping them on hangers and just placing them in boxes.

One of the two half-bathrooms. Not that interesting, but I wanted to show it because we put the cabinet in and I bought some hand soap for it. PROGRESS. (also, in case you're wondering, the other bathroom has the bathtub/shower. And TWO SINKS - what luxury!).

- I thought "Well, we don't have that much stuff, so I don't really need to label the nine boxes I've packed." No no no - ALWAYS LABEL THE BOXES. I still haven't found my German class books, which I will need in approximately 3 hours.

- Moving across an ocean is tiring because everything had to fit in a box or suitcase (or get thrown out/donated). Moving across a city is tiring because packing/moving/partial unpacking all must occur in the same day. Given the choice, I'm not sure which I'd do again. Oh wait, yes I do - neither. I hate moving.

- My parents are in for a not-so-fun surprise when they visit. My sisters and I have had tendencies to live on rather high-floor apartments without elevators in the US, and my parents were always willing to help us move, even if it meant driving cross-country to do it. I was excited to tell them that this time, we have an elevator in the building (yay!). What I failed to tell them is that the apartment building itself is on a rather steep hill, and there are at least a flight or two worth of stairs before the main door. At least they won't be carrying furniture...

- It's going to be a long, slow process to fully settle in. B didn't have much furniture (understatement - monks have more items in their cells), so we have a lot of future purchases. Which of course means deciding what type of couch, bed, desk, etc, to buy. Which of course means deciding how we want to arrange everything. Which of course means we need to decide what furniture we actually want (sofa and a separate bed? love seat? sofa with a long part so you can lie down? sofa bed? trundle bed? People who are planning to visit, feel free to weigh in - your vote counts!).

- None of the big ticket items are actually our top priority, as I initially expected they would be. Instead, I'm desperate to get my hands on simpler things, like a shower curtain rod, curtains, and (for me) kitchen storage units. Unfortunately yesterday was Sunday, and the Zurich Hauptbahnhof (the only place that allows stores to be open on Sunday) does not have any stores that feel the need to carry shower curtain rods. Possibly because they assume that people who move into a new apartment aren't so stupid that they fail to notice such a critical item is missing. Well, I showed them!

Entryway looking through to the bathroom (if you look VERY carefully, you can see the absence of a shower curtain rod - I probably should've done that on Friday).

- Despite the lack of furniture and boxes in piles, I am so, so excited to be here! It truly feels like a place where B and I can make a home together. Even though it's currently so empty it echoes (and the bed is still the only comfortable place to sit), the apartment makes me feel more permanent in Zurich, and less like I'm crashing at my boyfriend's dorm room. And I like that :)

Instead of showing the mess, I've decided to show you the success. This is my pile of successfully-emptied-bags, and it grows daily. You gotta find what works for you, and I find that the growing pile gives me a sense of accomplishment that all the half-filled boxes and containers strewn around does not. Positive outlook ftw.

Showing off our apartment (and my language skills)

Due to the events this week and my subsequent addiction to streaming the local Boston NPR station online, I've fallen behind in my Camp Nanowrimo word count goal. So now that I'm finally sitting down to write, I'm of course doing a blog post. I may have to add up word counts from this month's blog posts and add them to my story....that's not cheating, right?

As you may be aware, B and I are moving into a new apartment soon. We finally found a place after a very slow, long, painful search, and I am soooo excited to move out of the one-room place we've been squatting in for the past 3 months (yes, that is one-room, not one-bedroom). However, since our search was taking so long, we didn't want to give notice to move out of this cell (I mean palace) until we had another place and date confirmed.

And of course in order to give notice in Switzerland, you have to send a letter to the rental agency and then sign something that the rental agency gives you and then they have to send you the forms for other people to fill out and you have to send something back to the agency again saying yes, please put an advertisement up. (When I say "you," I really mean B. I'm not on the lease so that was my official excuse to not participate in any of this process). Anyway - the whole thing takes a while. But the advertisement finally went up and B started fielding phone calls from interested parties.

We tried to set up only one viewing last Thursday, but of course people couldn't make that day, so maybe Wednesday, and then some people can't come THAT day, so maybe Friday? Basically, we ended up having three nights in a row in which people invaded and I couldn't make dinner until late (I have such a wonderful attitude about this whole thing). Then it turned out that out of at least 10 applicants, the mysterious black box at the rental agency only found one acceptable, so we had to have another viewing this Thursday (which means we really had one Wednesday AND Thursday - that's five viewings for the price of one).

For the most part, I did a great job of buzzing people into the building, shoving B at the door to answer it, and then lingering silently near our (four) computers to make sure nobody tried to steal them. I totally wasn't creepy.

Apartment viewing is fun - it's a pretty random slice of humanity that walks through the door. We got some strange ones, including a woman who cheerfully spoke Gerglish (Engman?) the entire time, even though it was obvious that neither were her native language. There was a group of three Puerto Rican girls who were REALLY excited that B spoke Spanish (3 of them, but they only took one form - B claims this is because Hispanics must always travel in groups). There were several English speakers, or at least ones that were more than happy to switch into English. Those who didn't, I let B handle.

Except twice. The first time B abandoned me to show the cellar storage to some woman who had an irrational number of questions, and my worst fear was realized - the bell rang, and I had to let someone else in. The following conversation, as best I can recall, ensued:

(Language key: G - German, F - French, E - English, italics - my thoughts)

Me: [G] Hello!

Very nice girl: [G] Hello!

Me: Please don't ask me about taking your shoes off. I never understand if people are saying OFF or ON, and I inevitably give them the wrong answer.

Me: [G] This is the kitchen. <appropriate grand gesture>

VNG: [G] Nice - something something something.

Me: noncommittal noise. <awkward pause> Crap, I should've said something. [G] Sorry, I'm learning German.

VNG: [G] something something since something?

Me: Ah, she's probably asking how long I've been learning German! [G] Since two months.

VNG: <looks very surprised>

Me: Damage control! Say something! What else could she be asking about for a length of time? [G] For [E] me. [G] My husband live since two years in the [F] apartment. [E] Crap, that's [G] French.

VNG: [F] We can speak French, if you'd like.

Me: <blank stare> No one in my entire time here has spoken French. OMG IS SHE FRENCH? She IS fashionably dressed. (Narrator's note: I get really, really self-conscious about my French in front of French people who are fluent in other languages. So...most French people). [F] Yes, ok! [G] This is the bathroom. WTF was that? Didn't we just agree to switch to French? How the hell do you say bathroom in French? I'm pretty sure I knew it five minutes ago.

VNG: <cautious look>

Me: Uhhh...PANIC PANIC PICK A LANGUAGE. Where the hell is Bruno? [G] My husband is coming. He is in the [E] basement. [G] There is a washing machine and cellar.

VNG: [G] something washing something?

Me: Ok, definitely asking about the washing. [G] At the end of month is there 10 days free. On 11th and 12th have we washing. Two days for every [F] apartment.

VNG: [G] ..apartment. <sympathetic smile>

Me: Oh hell. How many questions can that other woman POSSIBLY have? I need a panic button. [G] My husband is coming. He explain better. Here is the room. That is the balcony. <sneak to door and check it to see if B is coming back up the stairs>

VNG: [G] something with without furniture something?

Me: [G] without <checks door again> If B comes back and I've given away our first born child, it's totally his fault.

VNG: [G] something something something?

Me: Uhhhhh.... [E] Uhhhhhhh....

<door creaks open>

Me: <runs to door and grips B's arm in inappropriate desperation> [E] Talk to this woman!

B: [G] chit chat chit chat

VNG: [G] chit chat chit chat.

B: [E] She wants to know if we'd be willing to sell any of our stuff.

Me: [E] If it's up to me, she can have all of it.

VNG: <laughs> [E] I just moved here, so I have nothing.

Me: ......Did she just understand me AND REPLY IN ENGLISH?

....Yep. So that's what happened. Turned out the girl was actually from Italy and perfectly nice....and, of course, spoke English (that brings her language total to four, in case any one is keeping track. I have jealousy issues).

Apartment viewing is fun. More stories later!

Since moving to Zürich

I've now been in Switzerland for just short of 3 months - a time frame that seems absurdly short (Boston seems quite some time ago) and very long (shouldn't I have more accomplished by now?). I am still adjusting in a lot of ways, both to Switzerland and life post-PhD.

For 3 month anniversary fun, here are a random assortment of things I feel since moving to Zürich.

- I miss Boston's one-stream recycling. In Zürich, not only do we have to sort paper from cardboard from plastic from glass, but also there are often subcategories within each one. Everything must be flattened and often tied up in neat little bundles. Different categories are picked up on different days (don't get it wrong!), vary in frequency of pick up, and those that don't get picked up have multiple drop off sites.

This is at the local grocery store. Batteries, water filters, and clear plastic bottles - white ones go in a totally separate bin. Obviously. 

These are located at random places around the city. Separate bins for brown glass, green glass, white glass, tins, old kitchen oil, and other stuff I know I am forgetting. There are only certain hours that you can drop off, and no dumping on Sundays or holidays (too noisy).

This is where the bags in which you brought your glass/tin/other are placed. Everything make sense now? 

- All those US websites/pins about grocery lists or craft projects or budgets "for only xx dollars!" makes me want to punch those people in the face. Maybe where you live, honey.

- I have conflicted feelings about most stores being closed on Sunday. One has until around 4 pm on Saturday to run any and all weekend errands, which often makes for hectic Saturdays. But when Sunday comes around, I do love the quiet.

- Stores that are exceptions to the closed-on-Sunday rule should be avoided at all costs. The Migros grocery store at the Hauptbahnhof on Sundays is a dark, crowded, scary place.

- I need to be better at making time to email people - both those at home that I constantly think of yet fail to send a message to as well as new contacts here. I'm a social person at heart, and there is no substitute for good conversation or emails from friends.

- Normal interactions with people at shops and such can usually be gotten through with a fair amount of guesswork, even if I don't understand Schweizerdeutsch (or Hauptdeutsch - or if I can't even tell which one they are speaking). Guessing wrong leads to new learning experiences. Or just lots of embarrassment.

- Living in a place where you don't speak the native language is a constantly humbling and nerve-wracking experience. I may have a Ph.D. from Harvard, but to that Starbucks cashier who has to repeat his question three times to know whether I want my drink to go or for here, I'm just another idiot.

- Having this blog as a way to share my uncomfortable experiences gives me more confidence heading into situations ("Hey, at least it will be a good story!" has become my mantra).

- Taking German classes is important. Attempting to have conversation with classmates with whom German is the only shared language is even more important.

- Expat women here are wonderful, wonderful people. Every single one I've talked to has been warm, welcoming, sympathetic, and completely understanding of how tricky or difficult an international move (particularly one-way ones) can be.

- I am still holding out hope that there is a secret, magic store somewhere in this country that sells slow cookers/crockpots. 

Craftsy goodness (and bonus move date)

Just some randomness today -

First off, I added a couple more gadgets on the right side of this blog page, including a way to sign up for automatic email alerts whenever there is a new post (yay!), and a translation gadget. I make no guarantees for the accuracy of the translation, especially since my posts have a smattering of other languages in them. But some of B's family are much more comfortable in Spanish than in English (Hola!), and I've heard through the family grapevine that they are interested to know what's happening in our lives. I hope it works!

Second, I am one of the world's slowest and distracted crafters, but I just wanted to share that I finally finished a project! Celebration time! Woot! And not just finished-the-fun-part-but-still-need-to weave in ends/finish the backstitching/glue together the boards. REAL finished-finished. Of course, this is a scarf that I was supposed to give as a Christmas gift, so it's about four months late. In the grand scheme of my crafting, that's equivalent to being early (just ask my friend who is still waiting on her apron that is close to 2 years late - I still have to finish the "sprinkles" on the last cupcake). Now I just need to mail out the scarf - which, realistically, will probably take another month, minimum (even in the US I was bad at mailing things - I have many, many birthday/anniversary/christmas cards purchased with the best of intentions that languished in a drawer waiting for "next year"). Hopefully next winter will be just as cold as this one (although if it wants to stop snowing before April, that's ok), and it will be useful to the recipient then.

It's a scarf! Crocheted by moi, super soft (the yarn is bamboo/silk), and no large errors (no, the center is not black because I was about to run out of the other colors! Where would you get such an idea?). Ripple pattern is from here.

And, of course, I have immediately started on another project (never mind the half dozen unfinished ones in dark corners throughout the apartment and storage space). I'm claiming this one is vaguely utilitarian, since I am crocheting a basket for my yarn collection (that I use to crochet with - how meta.) Anyway - I'll probably post another picture in a year (or more) when it's done. Nobody hold their breath (but I promise that finishing that apron is top of my list post-basket!).

Partial basket bottom. I'm using a very thick jersey cotton "yarn," and I've never before had crocheting feel like such a wrestling match. Idea/vague pattern from here.

Other items - WE HAVE A MOVE DATE! We pick up the keys on April 26th to our new place!! Now we just need to find some potential tenants for our current apartment by May 1st. Which means some hard core cleaning to spruce this place up before we open it for viewings.

And finally...there is still snow on the ground and temperatures are below freezing. This is seriously cramping my balcony garden urges. Get it together, spring.

Moving date!!

The biggest news in the past week is that B and I found an apartment! We actually received simultaneous offers on 2 places (cover letters apparently do make a difference), and after some agonizing, we picked one. It's large-ish (for Zurich) and a few stops on the regional train outside the main city. But it has a shopping complex (ie, groceries) right across the street, a bus stop 2 minutes away, and even a sport facility nearby - as well as parking places for rent should we ever decide to get a car. By train, it's less than twenty minutes from the city center, although it is a good 45 minutes away from the airport (that's ok, I promise I'll still meet visitors there). I am SO excited - our move in date is May 1st, so that gives us some time to pack up and also show the current apartment (after a thorough spring cleaning) - since we are moving without three months' notice, we need to find at least two "suitable" candidates for the apartment to offer to the company in order for B to be released from the current lease. I spent all evening yesterday on Pinterest looking at color schemes and decorating and gardening ideas.

A friend asked me last week if we had Kinder Surprises in Switzerland. We do, although they are rather lost in the copious Lindt displays. This was one of three in a small grocery store. Perhaps a stereotype, but it does appear that the Swiss are serious about their chocolate.

My second month of German class started this week. So far the grammar continues to make sense, but I am still horrible at pluralizing nouns and I haven't been studying my vocabulary enough, so I often find myself conjugating verbs that I have no idea what they mean (always an interesting venture when they require additional verbs or direct objects, eg "What do you do when you are hungry?" "When I am hungry, I dance." - No?). It was an epiphany that I was perhaps a tad slow to reach - it took me three weeks to realize that since there is no common language, we are never expected or asked to translate anything. The instructor tries to ensure that we understand a word when it is first introduced, but beyond that, we're on our own. I've made some flash cards, but I desperately need to make more. Typically in reading texts, I can eventually come up with the meaning, but definitely not fast enough for oral exercises.

I've started staying after class to work on homework - the school has a small cafeteria area that is quiet and has fewer distractions than home. Last week, my instructor came in to visit the vending machine and saw me there. He first said something complimentary (yay! Ok, he probably would've said it to any student - something along the lines of Good job with German), and then asked if I was staying for the movie showing that evening. The school was showing "Friends with Benefits" (yes, the one with Justin Timberlake and Mila Kunis, a rather odd choice for a German school largely populated with native Spanish speakers).

"Nein, ich habe ein Besichtigung." [No, I have an apartment viewing - and yes, I was guessing on the gender of "Besichtigung," since I couldn't ever recall learning it. And yes, I garbled the pronunciation and had to try it a few times. But I got it out eventually.]

"Ah! Wo?" (Where?)

I gave him the street name and he shook his head. I was pretty pleased with myself that I had understood his question and managed to come up with an almost-complete answer, so I wasn't concentrating enough on my next attempt.

"Die Wohnung ist....<painful pause> nachts....mein Mann <another painful pause>...arbeitet." I was a deep red at this point and gave up, waving my hand arbitrarily in the air, as if to give what I said some logical context. (What I meant to say was that the place was next to [nächste] where my husband works. What I actually said was "The apartment is.....night....my husband works." Did I mention that umlauts (¨) not only change pronunciation but also entire meanings of words? Languages are tricky beasts.)

"Ah...ok." He left.

I heard him in the cafetera again yesterday, but I kept my eyes firmly focused on my work. I think we were both grateful for that.

Arrivals and (non) departures

When I last left the saga of my boxes, they were being held hostage by Die Post. After several phone calls, emails, and shipping off of scans of my visa/resident permit, all eight boxes were sent back to customs to be re-evaluated.

They arrived back at Die Post last week and had no customs charges this time. Yay! Unfortunately, I was in the shower when the doorbell rang, so we missed our chance to have all eight boxes delivered directly to our front door (they only attempt delivery once, this ain't no Fedex). So, on Saturday, B and I headed off to Die Post to pick some of them up. Luckily, they were being held at a Post that was actually closer than where they had previously been; only a five minute walk or so. We brought along 2 large empty suitcases, as previous experience had taught us that the boxes are often not in any shape for carrying.

Unfortunately, we were right. We first picked up 3 boxes, 2 of them entirely of books, in the morning. The boxes were in abhorrent condition (if you ever move internationally, the "moving" boxes from Home Depot ARE NOT SUFFICIENT), although the books inside amazingly weren't damaged. The third box had clothes and yarn surrounding my deeply buried Xbox and its accessories, which seemed to have had enough cushioning that they were not hurt (although we haven't yet confirmed this, as we don't have a TV to hook it up to). We packed up the suitcases and headed back to the apartment.

Five minutes is a long, long time, when you have an oversized suitcase that is stuffed to the brim with books (yes, many hardcovers). B commented in it as well ("Jesus, what do you have in here, rocks?!" "It's my fossil collection!" "So.....rocks."). We unloaded the suitcases in B's kellar (basement storage unit), which luckily has a nice metal bookshelf on it.

Later that day we went back for round 2 (we need to have them all picked up by March 10th or they get sent back to the US). This time we only picked up two boxes, as they were larger. Heartbreakingly, one of them had my blue willow china collection in it, and even as I carefully transferred the bubble-wrapped pieces into the suitcase, I could tell there had been some casualties. Considering the condition of the box, I was lucky that as many pieces survived as, in fact, did (a testament to my father's packing ability). I lost about half a dozen cups/mugs and about an equal number of small plates/saucers. The biggest loss was definitely a large serving platter with the pattern in black. B has promised to look around for a replacement as a future anniversary/birthday/Christmas present. (Just a note: My collection is a somewhat random assortment of pieces of varying quality, age, and type. The loss is more sentimental than monetary, as it is a group that I have gathered from several relatives, shops, and random places.)

The other box's contents was fine (more books), and on a third trip B picked up another box that had my rolling pin (woot!) and several custom-framed pictures, including a totally awesome one of Maleficent at the top of her tower (best Disney villainess ever - moral: get competent minions), that all survived. I can't wait to get them up in a new space. If we ever get one.

Which leads me to the (non) departures - B and I sent off three apartment applications last week, and another one this morning. They each had cover letters, so we're hoping to hear some potential (good!) news this week. Since starting to include cover letters, we have at least started to receive replies from companies, albeit apologetic, bad ones. Eh, it's something.

Giant, grilled, fake bratwurst outside a meat shop. Sometimes Switzerland is weird.

Sometimes it's the little things

So for the past two weeks, B and I have been in a bit of a bind about what to do with my belongings. The ones that threaten to overflow the studio space, yes, but also the twelve boxes of items (aka, crap) that my parents and I shipped over via USPS before I got on the plane. 

First evening in Zurich - snow from the apartment window. It felt very cozy and welcoming. Then my camera battery died and I had to wait 2 weeks until we picked up the box with it.

Twelve boxes! Sometimes I don't know what I was thinking.

As a person moving to Switzerland, I shouldn't have to pay customs on any household items that are at least six months old (aka, everything, coz I didn't exactly go on a shopping spree prior to moving) and that I plan to continue to use (also everything). Now, I had vaguely read about that prior to moving, but what B and I failed to realize is that we were supposed to fill out a customs form prior to my shipping the boxes, so that at customs, they would be able to say "Oh, this is from that person moving into the country, let it pass." Or however you would say that in Schweize Deutsch.

In retrospect, this seems really, really obvious, but when I have given myself 6 days to pack for an international move, things slip between the cracks.

Anyway - we didn't fill out that form, and the boxes have come through in a rather pell-mell assortment (and in varying condition, see below). To be fair, they also all came through very quickly - the shipping was supposed to take 6-10 business days, and they started to arrive on business day #4.

The side of one of the four boxes we've received. The bottom corner and top  gashes were added by us, in order to access the box. But the side one was already there. Die Post worker couldn't carry it because it would've fallen apart, so she just slid it along the floor to us. Nothing fragile in it - small favors.

After much wrangling and tape removal, it's ready for recycling pick up! Which is a whole other post - one that I'll do once I understand the system myself.

So far we've received four of the boxes - one we paid for before we realized what was going on, and the other three had no charges associated. We're not sure why - I thought perhaps the three without charges would be the three with the lowest estimated goods value on them, but that hasn't been the case (the charges, btw, range from 40 to 125 CHF/box; 1 CHF = 1.1 USD). Most likely they were processed by different people at customs, and some of them were obviously used household goods, while others (eg, the one with the Xbox in it) may not be so obvious. The remaining eight boxes are being held hostage by Die Post, and B has been calling all over to figure out if there is a way to get the charges re-examined. No resolution yet.

Meanwhile, I've opened two of the boxes (the other two are boxes and DVDs only, items that can wait until we've moved out of the studio, and also boxes that will survive another - handheld - move). 

There is nothing like opening boxes that you've paid to move to make you rethink your priorities in life. As B pointed out - I had survived for 1-2 weeks without any of these items, so how many did I really need? (I pointed out that my many pairs of boots were largely at his urging)

He had a point, though. Going through the boxes has been a strange oscillation between "why did I ever think I would need this?" and squeals of glee when I find items that I have been desperate without. And the items that are causing those reactions are far from what I would have laid money on when I was back in Boston.

Here's a sampling of some of the items I was most thrilled to run across:

Perhaps self-explanatory - I was lucky that one of the boxes without charges had all my camera accessories, including the extra battery, battery charger, and the cords to download my pictures. Never pack these separately from your camera, people! Lesson learned.

Also self-explanatory, probably. B has one of these adaptors, but I probably need 3-4, so I was thrilled to find one. Now we can stop trading the Mac power cord back and forth between laptops.

The other thrilling surprises were a bit more random:

Loose leaf tea accessories! B and I are both big tea drinkers, but we'd been resigned to tea bags the past 2 weeks . The horror!

And then this one made me absurdly happy:

Anybody know what it is? Bueller? 

It's a scraper that I picked up at Marshall's for about $3 - I forget its official name, if it even has one. It was useful in Boston to clean off my table after kneading and other baking activities, although I could do the same with some hard scrubbing and a wet rag. However, the wood table here that I use for kneading has no finish on it, and thus little dried pieces of bread/cookie/any other dough have proved quite challenging to remove. But no longer! Yay!

Zester!

This one was well-timed - I just found it this morning, and yesterday I made lime cookies (I'll post the recipe later). I wanted the zest of two limes for them, and I had one of those little graters that are supposedly up for the task. Mine was not (see below). Lesson learned - Ikea is useful for many things, but perhaps not kitchen utensils.

Lime on the left was done first. Looks totally fine! Lime on the right was second - it was like the grater just putzed out in the middle. 

I can think of few specific things that are in the remaining eight boxes, which makes me a bit uneasy about the ratio of crap:useful items that I sent, but I'm sure that each one will contain a few much appreciated surprises. I just won't try to guess what they will be.

Have you ever regretted packing (or NOT packing) something when you moved?