Piropos--or the Latin man´s version of a "compliment"

Piropos are the noises a man makes at a woman as she´s walking down the street here. They can range from a noise somewhat like "pppssssstttt" or can be anything from "Hola, mi amor", ¨"Que rico", "Bellisama" or a simple "Buenos Dias" said in a particularly leering manner.

Usually these don´t bother me too much but I got one guy who went right up in my face this morning and let me say that the guys who do this kind of thing are not cute, not young and usually not thin.

By all accounts, everyone says to just ignore them but sometimes I´m tempted to stop and say in Spanish, "All right, let´s go. I´m ready for a hot date with you. In fact, I´ve been waiting all day for a stranger to proposition me in the street."

I´m not quite sure what kind of reaction I would get with that though and I´m not sure I want to find out.

I don´t think I´m all that and this is something special for me, it´s a part of the culture (although I haven´t figured out if it´s the kind of knowledge that´s passed down from generation to generation or it´s the kind of thing a kid learns on the street---my guess is the latter).

I´m pretty oblivious to them, but it gets a little tiring when it´s 8.30 in the morning, you´re dodging past excrement (hopefully dog´s), sidestepping bones (presumably chicken) and shooing away flies. Ive been in Panama City for the past 2 days and it´s not the cleanest of cities---although I´m staying in a kind of sketchy area.

It´s called Santa Ana and it´s about 3 or 4 blocks away from the tourist area of Casco Viejo (the old Spanish settlement).

I´m going out to take pictures this afternoon and walk around, but for me, Panama City isn´t very exciting as a tourist destination. There isn´t a whole lot to do and it´s more humid than Florida in August.

Ok--the Crocs are Out Forever!

I knew my love affair would come to an end one day, I just didn't think it would be exactly how it was.

I had already promised my Mom the Crocs (again, they suck but they are the perfect shoe for the rainy season here) but I went to put my foot in one this morning and felt a mild tickling underneath my sole.

It took me a second to place it, but then I was like, "Cockroach...AAAHHHHH............So gross..........Get it off! Get it off Get it off!!!"

As I yanked furiously at the shoe, I finally realized that the ankle strap was stuck and I couldn't get it off (all the while the cuckaracha was fluttering his nasty wings and trying to escape).


Finally I got the damn thing off, flung it to the floor and hopped onto the back of my Mom's loveseat.

So not how I want to spend my Saturday morning.

My Own Little Peyton Place

While the actual Peyton Place was in New England, I think I've stumbled into my own little corner of it down here in Central America.

If you're not familiar with the 1956 novel, here's a link. It's basically a "fictional" expose of a small town in New Hampshire. And while I haven't discovered any of the incest, abortion or lust of the novel there's plenty of murder, thievery and people running from the law down here.

Or as my Mom puts it, "It's like Peyton Place but without the sex."

Making the social rounds with my Mom, I've heard much of the same "bochinche" (Panamanian for gossip) over and over again--although I'm still looking for the Internet expose of the Ex-pat community in Vulcan.

So far, there's been everything from the extreme:

• The US Marshals coming to Boquete last month to extradite a Wisconsin man who had been fleeing for years from a child sex abuse conviction
• The recent capture of "Wild Bill Cortex" near the Costa Rican border. Apparently, he and his girlfriend, both avid weigh lifters and white separatists, have confessed to killing at least 5 people in order to steal their property. Property laws are much different down here--basically whoever has the deed owns the property even if there's no bill of sale. Ol' Wild Bill rented a house that one of my Mom's friends later bought and there are some mysterious lumps in the back yard near the ocean. It's kind of a morbid inside joke that she might have bodies buried on her land.
  

To the mundane:

• One American absconded with $8,000 in checks from another little old American lady he went into business with
• The Canadian handyman who works for my Mom was cussed out and called a thief by another drunken Canadian after she blacked out and forget she lent him the car
• Two old lesbians spent half the night telling me about their past lives and their energy fields
  
• One young American couple I met confessed to me that they weren't monogamous and that she was a burlesque dancer back in the States (what is it about being abroad and having people tell you TMI)?
• One old lady, who is a friend of my Mom's and who is a major shopaholic, bought 40 bras at once and has now decided she needs to get rid of them. She asked me what size bra I wear right after I met her and then promised me some. I don't think I'm going to hold her to that promise.
  
• The Canadian handyman who works for my Mom told me he had been on a diet and tried taking that Herbal Chinese Diet tea but it made him get severe diarrhea when he was driving and the only thing he had to wipe himself with was his friend's shirt which was in the backseat. Needless to say, said shirt was thrown out along the side of the road. Again with the TMI!

2 airplane rides, one 8- hour layover and a 6-hour bus ride later...

After a grueling 24-hours of travel to get to Boquete, Panama I arrived yesterday morning around 6 a.m.

The trip involved a 6 a.m. flight from Detroit (forcing us to get up at 3 a.m. to be there by 4 a.m.), an 8-hour layover in Atlanta, a 30-minute taxi ride from the Panama City airport to the bus terminal; a 2-hour wait until the midnight bus to David (Panama's 3rd biggest city) and then a 6-hour bus ride through the Panamanian countryside and up into the mountains. Crazy! But I made it.

I thought the humidity in Toledo was bad, but in Panama City it's ungodly. You step outside and there is literally sweat dripping off your face within 2 minutes (and down your back which is especially icky).

I thought I could wait in the bus terminal's waiting room, but it was like an Indian sweat lodge in there. Although, I seemed to be the only one bothered as everyone else was taking it in stride. I guess people can get used to anything.

5 minutes later (and 3 pounds of water weight lighter) I had had enough. I remembered I saw a bar in the terminal that had it's doors closed (which meant A/C).

Stumbling over with 3 bags in tow, I was greeted by the 2 bouncers.

Remember, this is a bar in a bus terminal so I don't really see the need for bouncers, but whatever. Apparently, it's quite the destination nightclub in that part of town.

It was pretty crowded in there (also remember this is 11 p.m. on a Wednesday night). The bouncers told me they don't normally allow luggage in the bar, but this time they would make an exception.

Silly me. I hadn't realized I'd stepped into such an exclusive place. I guess it all depends on your perception. But it was nice to finally get cool.

One bus ride later, Mom picked me up and we went out for breakfast and bought some groceries.

Then for the 30-minute ride to Boquete.

I managed to survive 2 airplane flights and a long bus ride, only to almost be smeared on the side of a Panamanian country road by my mother.

Deciding she wanted to pass the truck in front of her, she pulled out into the other lane.

However, she didn't accelerate enough and then tries to downshift into 3rd gear, but missed and almost put it in 1st gear. By this time we have no acceleration and the guy coming at us at 50 mph isn't slowing down.

Seeing my life flash before my eyes, she finally swerved into the ditch, narrowly missing the guy that almost creamed us. And he never slowed down. Nice.

I think I'm going to suggest (read insist) that I should drive from now on.

One thing my mom had neglected to mention is that we're currently in the rainy season. Which means it gets dark at 1 or 2 p.m. and then rains the rest of the day. Not the nicest time to visit.

They had a pretty bad flood here last week because of all the rain. It washed out a couple bridges and ruined quite a few businesses in town.

My mom had 8 inches of mud in her driveway and a couple inches in her house.

This is what Boquete looks like when it's back to normal.

I also signed up for 4-hours a day of Spanish lessons, so hopefully I'll finally be able to understand direct objects and indirect objects.

I don't think I even understand those in English...

T Minus 2 Days Till Panama!

As you may remember, my "reward" for having to quit my job and move to Toledo, Ohio for 4 years was a 2 month trip to visit my Mom in Panama and brush up on my Spanish.

Well, I leave in 2 days and should I be packing?

Yes.

What am I doing?

Juicing. That's right juicing.

Our "bought on an impulse, used once and threw in the cupboard never to be seen again/housewarming present" from my Dad was a juicer.

Which I love although it is a bitch to clean. I wavered about buying a juicer a.)because they're so expensive and b.) because it takes away all the fiber.

But I rationalized the second point by realizing I wasn't eating enough veggies anyway, so I might as well be getting at least the minerals and vitamins from them if not the fiber.

This is what they want you to think the juice looks like.

It actually looks a lot more like this.

But depending on what you put in it, it really does taste good. I tried raw garlic once and don't think I'll be doing that again.

Fennel is good, as well as apples to sweeten it a bit. A handful of parsley's always nice and celery and carrots are pretty tasty.

I'm also writing little notes to Leo on how to work everything around the house. I once caught him trying to turn on the burner and it wasn't cute.

However, the big news is that I got a job with the federal government!

This is what I've wanted for about 5 years now because I'm oh-so-over having to move to a new city, research employers in that city, put together your resume, apply, interview and get used to a new job again.

As soon as you say you're a military spouse to a civilian employer, it's like you've just said you've got leprosy since they know you'll likely be leaving in a few years.

I just have to pass this massive background check, which I'm sure I will and I'm good to go.

Luckily for me the background check takes a long time, since I really didn't want to cancel this trip. It's been the only thing keeping me sane for the last few months!

Next time you hear from me, I'll be in Panama--hanging with Mom and her crew of senior citizens. Where we'll talk about how cheap everything is, how Panama is like the US was in the 1950's and start Happy Hour everyday at 4 p.m.

(Not kidding about the Happy Hour thing--those oldies can really knock it back).

Hell, Michigan

We just got back from our official "house hunting" trip to Toledo, Ohio (more on that later). We stayed with my parents at their place in Michigan and drove down every day.

On our one day where we actually got to do something fun (instead of tearing our hair out worrying if we were going to find a place to live) we went to Hell, Michigan.

I grew up about 20 miles from here in Ann Arbor, but had never really heard about it until it was featured on "Extreme Towns" on the Travel Channel.

When they say it's a town they're stretching it because there are only about 74 people but there are plenty of tourists!

The "main strip" of Hell consists of 3 buildings, a bar called The Dam Site Inn, an ice cream/souvenir shop called Screams Ice Cream and a pizza parlor/part-time post office called "Hell in a Handbasket" (can you tell they're really working the theme?) where you can buy postcards officially stamped from Hell.

While small, the area is also in the Pinckney Recreation Area and sits on 11,000 acres of state park so there is plenty of hiking, canoe rental (available at Hell in a Handbasket), and horseback rentals (the nearby Hell Creek Ranch) but most people come for bragging rights.

There's also a mini Putt-Putt and children's area.

And for the really adventurous souls (or those of the white trash persuasion) there's a small wedding chapel where you and that special someone can tie the knot.

And how did the town get its name you ask?

Well, there are apparently 2 theories to that little conundrum:

First: The town's founder, George Reeve, ran a mill/general store and moonshine operation back in 1838. When the farmers would come to grind their grain and stop to set a spell, they would often "forget" to come back home again. So when asked where her husband was, the farmer's wife would often reply, "Oh, he's in Hell!".

The 2nd theory is that the ever cantankerous Mr. Reeve, when asked what they should call his town replied rather peevishly, "They can call it Hell for all I care!"

And the name stuck.

Mexico City!!!

So, I spent my Memorial Day in Mexico City. Not the most traditional of choices, I agree, but you can't beat a round-trip ticket and 4-night hotel package for $314 flying out of Tijuana.

I highly recommend this to anyone who is flying in Mexico (and probably Central and South America as well) and who lives in San Diego. It's actually quite easy. You take the trolley or get dropped off at the border, walk across and take a US $12 or $18 peso taxi ride to the airport. You can do this even if you don't speak any Spanish.

However, there aren't the many people in the TJ airport who speak English, so if you don't speak any Spanish, be prepared to mime a lot. But on the way out, I met a young American couple who were going to La Paz and they had done ok with not knowing Spanish, so it's definitely do-able.

Flying into Mexico City was a little disappointing. It's like the 3rd biggest city in the world, but there's hardly any skyscrapers. It's definitely not like Sao Paolo, Brazil which actually took my breath away.

I had arranged for a driver to pick me up at the airport ($35 round-trip. Thanks Cheaptickets!) but I now realize you could probably take the subway as long as you don't have a lot of luggage. You can print off a map of the subway and it goes right to the airport.

After I checked in to my hotel, I walked around for a bit and ended up eating the most expensive meal of my life. (not intentionally, of course). I was so tired and the only restaurant I could find was this fancy Japanese fusion restaurant. Nice to find out the next day that if I had only walked about 2 more blocks I would have found tons of restaurants.

I ordered vegetable tempura, read my book and listened to this teenage jazz band they had playing. While the food was just ok, the service was fabulous! I understand a little bit better why people go to super fancy restaurants.

Anyway, a few beers (Sapporo of course) and some tempura and sushi later and I get the bill, which is about 500 pesos. Which comes to about $50. With a tip, it came to about $70. I was so tired, I didn't even care (although I obsessed over spending so much money the rest of the next day). However, it was a super nice restaurant and everyone deserves a splurge now and then.

They packed up the sushi/rice and tempura which I figured I could somehow save, but I saw a homeless guy on the street and ended up asking him if he likes Japanese food. He said yes (must be a bum with a sophisticated palate) and gave him the rest of the food. He seemed happy. I seemed happy. So I figure it's money well spent.

I have somewhat of a problem giving homeless people money (especially when they have signs like, "Need money for pot" or "Why lie? I need beer". It's kind of funny, but are you really doing these people any favors by giving them drinking/drug money? I figure you can never go wrong with food.

Anyway, the next morning I had arranged a city tour and I met a really nice Venezuelan girl and Brazilian guy on the tour. We saw the President's Palace and the Diego Rivera murals, the Cathedral (complete with some "Aztec warriors" posing for tips, and the Zocala, which is one of the largest public squares in the world. However, when I visited there was some sort of permanent squatter camp/political protest going on and there were tons of people camped out there.

That afternoon, I also went on the Pyramid tour. This was one of the things I really, really had wanted to see. Technically, it's called Teotihuacan but I think most people refer to it as The Pyramid of the Sun and The Pyramid of the Moon. They are pre-Aztec pyramids and one of the most important archaeological sights in Mexico. You have to have a driver to get there.

One thing are my research agreed upon. Driving in Mexico City: Just Don't. I can't agree more. There are tons of huge boulevards and roundabouts. I think the drivers may be worse than NYC.

It's pretty cheap to hire a tour to go to the pyramids (like $35 or so) and we stopped off at the Basilica of the Virgin of Guadalupe . This is the most important religious site in Mexico (if you click the link, you'll recognize the picture immediately). There are actually 3 churches here. The original, then a newer one (which is actually sinking into the soft soil below--kind of like the Leaning Tower) and then the 3rd, which was built in the 70's or so and definitely looks like it.

They had the actual "miracle" painting/cape there. It's the original image that supposedly appeared as a symbol on someone's cape and apparently has been shown that no human hand c0uld have created it.

How they had it displayed was very interesting. They had 3 sets of moving sidewalks (ok, I know that's a Beverly Hillbillies description of it but I don't know what those things are called--they're the things in the airport that are like escalators but flat and they help you walk faster).

So you could view it one way, get off the moving sidewalk, step 1 foot in front and onto another one going a different direction, zoom past it again, get off, step 1 foot in front and zoom past it in the other direction. No gawking allowed!

This day was the highlight of my trip as the next day was a real let-down. I had really wanted to go to Xochimilco, which is considered the Venice of Mexico. I figured I could do the subway myself and didn't need to pay for a tour. Which is true. The subway was easy to figure out and only cost about .25 cents (30 pesos) one-way. The whole trip cost me about $1 US (you have to pay for a transfer).

Maybe if I had been with a group it would have been fun. But you have to walk down many small, dirty streets to finally get there and when you do, you have to walk down a small passageway filled with people selling open-air food (complete with flies and e. coli) and then you get to the canal and it's dirty and brown.

You can then rent a boat which has a guide who paddles the boat (like a gondolier) but I could definitely see it's more fun if you have a big group because there are long picnic tables in the boats and you can eat and drink (people come up to you in boats to sell food, soda and beer). As I was on my own, I didn't want to tag along and be the third wheel to a Mexican family having a nice Sunday afternoon out, so I just took the subway back). The subway was easy and I was proud of myself that I could do it, but if you're traveling alone, I think I would recommend the tour so you have people to sit with and talk to on the boat.

The next day, I just walked around and chilled in my hotel room, watching bad dubbed sitcoms and Mexican soap operas. Part of the reason I went down there was to practice my Spanish and see if I could survive. Most people were very nice, however, I did have a minor altercation with a teenage counter person at KFC (I hate American fast food but hey, I didn't want to get Montezuma's Revenge).

Other than that, I had complicated conversations about international phone calls, complaining about everything in my room because nothing worked (ie, the fan, most of the lights and the refrigerator--I never got the last one solved), I listened to whole tours in Spanish and even protested when I got short-changed at Oxxo. Which I am proud to say, I successfully got my 50 pesos back. We never covered that in Spanish class!



The main street in Mexico City is Paseo de la Reforma although I think most people call it Avenida Reforma or Calle Reforma (I know I did when I asked for directions and people understood me). My hotel was on this street (Imperial Reforma) and many important sights including the Angel of Independence which I learned from a very rude and very mustacchioed female guard can only be climbed on the weekends.

There was tons of anti-Calderon graffiti (really explicit stuff, like Death to Calderon, etc) and other squatter camps. I don't know if this was the feeling of just a few disgruntled people or how most people felt. (I also just love being able to work in the word disgruntled whenever I can).

Some people say Mexico isn't safe, but I felt perfectly safe the whole time I was there. I watched my purse, just like I would in any big city, but most people I met were pretty friendly (again, the smaller the town, I think the nicer people are). But aside from KFC guy and the female mustached security guard, everyone was pretty nice.

However, be prepared for guns. It's funny that foreigners think the US is a gun culture. I counted 11 police officers in just one stretch of block and they all had semi-automatics. Not to mention, all the cops/security guards outside businesses like banks and sex shops (I have no idea) who stood guard on the doorstep with automatic pump-action shotguns.

Moving and traveling to South America

In my previous post, I wrote about us moving to Toledo, Ohio and I said there was a reason I wasn't so upset about it. The main reason is that I get to take a 2.5 month study vacation to central and South America.

But, in reality, I'm more of an East Coast girl and miss being close to friends and family. Not to mention, with all the earthquakes we've been having, I think it's high time to get outta Cali. We had a 5.8 this morning.

But back to my plans. I told Leo that if we were going to have to move and I was going to have to give up my job, I wanted to take the first couple of months in our new place and study Spanish rather than sit on the couch waiting for someone to call back about a job interview.

I did that when we first moved here 4 years ago and it sucked. I ended up taking a waitressing job just to have something to do while I waited. Although I didn't feel so bad about it when I met up with a girl who I used to work with at a public relations firm in Philly. She moved out here too and ended up taking a job at Sea World shucking oysters while she waited to find a job in PR. So I wasn't so bad off. But I digress.

My plan so far is this:

Leave late August and spend a month with my Mom in Boquete, Panama where she retired a few years ago. I'm going to Spanish classes in the morning and then volunteering in the afternoon. I'm sure I'll end up teaching English, which I have experience in but I'm thinking it may be nice to branch out. We'll see. This flight is already booked.

Then, I travel to Buenos Aires, Argentina for about a month and a half. I already booked my apartment but haven't booked a flight yet.

When I'm in BA, my friend Danielle is going to come visit. Our plan is for her to stay a week or 10 days or however long she feels like staying. We'll go to Montevideo, Uruguay since it's only a 3-hour ferry ride and then we'll both fly to Porto Alegre, Brazil where she'll fly back home and I'll fly back to BA.

I figure I had to pay about $280 for my Brazil visa last year and it's good for 10 years, I might as well use it. I found flights for about $300 so you can't beat that.

I have 2 other trips planned. First, to Ushuaia, Argentina which is in the Tierra del Fuego (Earth/Land of Fire) region and claims that it is the southernmost city in the world. There is 1 city in Chile that is actually more southerly, but it's a military base and doesn't seem so equipped for tourism. So, I"m just going for this one.

Apparently, it's the jumping off point for Antartica. Alas, this will have to wait for another trip.

The other trip that I'm going to take is to Santiago, Chile and Valpraiso, Chile. I've always wanted to see Valparaiso ever since I read Portrait in Sepia by Isabelle Allende. I'm a little scared flying over the Andes, since isn't that where the Chilean soccer team crashed (aka, the movie Alive) happened? I'm just kidding, but for real I hate flying and have to have at least 3 cocktails even if the flight is at 9 in the morning. Thank God for airport bars.


Anyway, if anyone out there in blogland has any advice/tips/recommendations on cheap hotels/things to do/travel advice/etc about any of the above destinations I would be forever in your debt.

I know if have an ambitious travel schedule, but it's so far away that I may never get there again so I want to take as much advantage as I can. BTW, this isn't a Spanish post but Spanish has a verb that is so useful.

Aprovechar=to take advantage of.

Usually, Spanish is so much longer than English, but in this case they have us beat for succintness.

Last Day in Europe

Ok this will be a short entry because:

A. I've milked the hell out of my Europe trip

B. Since it happened almost 3 months ago, I don't remember most of the details.

On my last day in Basel, we tried to keep it low key. Earlier we had drunk (drank?) a bottle of local wine with a picture of this awesome looking water castle on the label.

So we decided to go visit.

It's called Bottmingen Schloss and it's right in Basel itself. Although it's a fine dining restaurant now and not so much a castle but still impressive to see.

(Side note, apparently Roger Federer lives in this district. I like how Wikipedia has to just randomly throw this in. But from having talked with my previous Swiss students and the overabundance of RF posters about town, it appears he's a pretty fricking big deal in these parts).

Next we went to this abbey which had the chapel literally carved out of rock. Mariastein. (Mary's Stone)

It looked like a totally normal church (albeit one that is hugging the side of a cliff) until you get to the chapel, which is hewed out of the side of the rock. Pretty amazing. You get the feeling of how it would be to attend services during the time when Catholics weren't so welcome around those parts. Switzerland is partially home to the Protestant Revolution after all.

I wish I had taken pictures but I would have felt a little awkward, being that there were quite a few people there praying. (this one was stolen from the Internet). I don't have exact directions here, but do know that you will need a car and a driver who knows where they're going.

Champagne, Fireworks and Dancing Germans

Picture it: New Year's Eve 2009. The Mittlere Bruck Bridge, Basel, Switzerland. It was a mild Swiss night as we set out for the Mittlere Bruck, the first bridge to cross the Rhine River. My friend Laura had grabbed a bottle of champagne and two glasses before we left.

This is a little of how the conversation went:

Me: But we won't be allowed to drink alcohol on the streets! Especially not with real glass! Don't you have a paper bag and we can do it NYC bum style?

Laura: What are you talking about? Of course we can drink on the street. This is Europe, not the U.S. Besides, the town council is giving out free hot wine to everyone!

Me: To everyone? What about kids?

Laura: Sure? Why not?

Laura: There will be fireworks too, but I didn't get a chance to buy any.

Me: Now what are you talking about? They won't let us set off fireworks on the bridge. Only the city can do that.

Laura: The city is doing fireworks, but we're allowed to do our own too.

Me: And there's no people fighting or vomiting or planning a date rape due to all this free alcohol and craziness?

Laura: Ah, you Americans.

So we get down there and it's as great as she promised. There were people of all ages and there weren't any problems. A few people should have watched where they were pointing their bottle rockets but overall, it was no big deal.

We met some random Germans and ended up dancing with them during the countdown. And by dancing, I mean forming a big circle and jumping up and down. Not the most traditional Bavarian dance I think.

I was all for it until someone started blasting "Take Me Home, Country Roads" by John Denver and the Germans went crazy trying to sing the loudest. It was a bit surreal.

Although this was the 2nd time I had heard this song during my time in Europe--the other was a busker on the street.

Here is the chorus in case you need reminding how weird it is to hear this song anymore period, let alone in Western Europe.

"Country Roads, Take Me Home
To the Place I Belong
West Virginia, Mountain Momma
Take Me Home, Country Roads"

I'm not sure if they really understood what they were singing or not. And I'm not sure what way would be better.

Lucerne

On my 3rd to last day in

Switzerland, we drove from Basel to Lucerne, which is about 1 hour away (it seems everything in Switzerland is 1 hour away, kind of like Rhode Island or Delaware).

Lucerne, which is in central Switzerland, is what you think of when you think of Switzerland--rolling hills, cow bells and quaint mountain cottages. Picture Swiss Family Robinson here and you'll get an idea about how cute it is.

Below is the Chapel Bridge (Kapellbrücke) which is the symbol of the city and was originally built in 1333. The bridge managed to last 660 years until some jackass in 1993 dropped a lit cigarette on it and burnt almost the whole thing down. There actually is a little chapel in the middle of the bridge. I know the name of the bridge is Chapel Bridge but I just thought it had connected to a chapel at one time in its history.

Since the city is divided by the Ruess River, there are several bridges including the Mill Bridge (Spreuerbrücke) which zig-zags its way across the water. Inside are a set of 17th century plague paintings, entitled "The Dance of Death". Sounds morbid but I love these type of paintings. They're intended, in part, to show the equality of man in that we all will die. Rich, young, poor, old, handsome, hunch-backed, etc.

This is also the oldest covered bridge in Europe, having been built in 1408.

I swear, tell an American that it's the oldest anything in Europe and we'll love it.

"Oh, this is the oldest stapler in all of Europe? Wow, this is so great!"

"What's that you say? This fire hydrant has been here since 1722? Oh my God! I have to get a picture with it!"

"I can't believe this garbage can has been here for over 900 years! Do you think they'll let me buy it as a souvenir?"

But I digress.

One tourist thing that I didn't think I would be that into, but was really pleasantly surprised is The Dying Lion Sculpture which is dedicated to the Swiss Guards who were killed during the French Revolution when a mob of the great unwashed rushed The Toileries Palace (where the unfortunate King Louis XVI and his family had fled for refuge) and massacred them. Over 600 Swiss guards died that day and another 200 or so died later in prison.

I wanted to see it because Mark Twain (one of the few American authors I actually like, although not the Huck Finn/Tom Sawyer crap everyone has to read in school) called the monument, "the most mournful and moving piece of stone in the world." I liked the idea of actually seeing something a famous author did way back in 1880. It's kind of like my own mini-Grand Tour.

(I tried to post the pic down here, but for some reason Blogger hates me and is stubbornly refusing to format the pictures how I want them). sigh.

We also saw the Church of St. Leodegar which I guess must not have been that interesting because I don't remember much about it. Sorry.

We tried to walk along the city walls but they were closed for the season. I would highly recommend doing this though. We could only walk along them at the bottom and we got fabulous views so the view at the top must be stunning.

I really wanted to hit The Rosengart Collection but, alas, we didn't have time. This private collection boasts Picasso's, Miro's, Cezanne's, Klee's and many other "modern" artists.

Anyway, if you only visit one Swiss city, I think it just might have to be Lucerne. Nestled in the foothills of the Swiss Alps, it's very touristy (no shortage of shops selling cuckoo clocks, Swiss Army knives and cow bells), but it's also so beautiful.

Spätzle and Vanilla Ice Cream

Besides the usual Swiss chocolates I brought back from my recent trip, I wanted to bring Leo some typical Swiss food products.

So Laura and I went off to the local Migros (apparently there are only 2 grocery store chains in Switzerland--Migros and and the smaller Coop, pronounced like what a chicken lives in and not a hippie grocery store) and she helped me pick out typical Swiss foods.

(Yes, I'm sure there's tons more typical Swiss foods, but I needed to find stuff that was small enough to fit in my suitcase and was non-perishable).

The photo above is what we came up with.

The Rosti is basically like a potato pancake that you fry on both sides. It was pretty good, but I'm told homemade is much better.

The Farmer Soft Choc bars are basically like a Kudos bar but they have coconut in them. Yum!.

The Aromat seasoning is something every Swiss person puts on everything (so I've been informed). It has MSG in it, so at first I wasn't too excited. But it is actually pretty good. My taste buds have been deadened due to a salt addiction, but Leo gave it 2 thumbs up and now puts it on just about everything.

However, the funny thing was the Spätzle which is basically a pasta made out of eggs, flour and water. You can eat it plain or with some type of sauce or gravy, like normal pasta.

I brought some back for Leo and made it for him as part of dinner one night.

Leo: What's this?

Me: Egg pasta I brought back from Switzerland. Try it, you'll like it.

Leo: (chewing) Hmmm, pretty good.

After a few more bites.

Leo: Honey, I hate to tell you this, but this isn't pasta.

Me: What are you talking about?

Leo: It's cornmeal. We used to eat it in Puerto Rico, except people there put sugar on it.

Me: I promise you it's not cornmeal, it's egg pasta. I mean I can't read German, but Laura told me it's really popular in Switzerland and that it's an egg pasta.

Leo: Whatever. (said as he's getting up from the couch and going to the kitchen).

A lot of rustling around is then heard from the kitchen, as well as the opening and closing of the refrigerator (freezer?) door.

Leo comes back in the room with his plate, but now there's scoops of white stuff on it. At first I think it's mashed potatoes, until I realize I haven't made any mashed potatoes in awhile.

Me: (realization dawning). IS THAT ICE CREAM ON THE PASTA?

Leo: Yes, and it's delicious! I told you it's better with sugar on it. That's how we do it Puerto Rican style. (ok, he didn't actually say anything (ever) about doing anything Puerto Rican style, but I was on a roll and it just kind of came/typed out. Sorry)

Needless to say, I told my Swiss friend Laura and she was pretty horrified :D

I also brought back some Rivella. (I'm having some serious problems formatting photos for this entry, but the Rivella is at the top of the post). Basically, Rivella is pop that has milk whey added to it. Milk whey is the thin, weedy stuff that comes off the curds of cheese (or something like that).

I have to admit it's not too bad. You wouldn't know you were drinking pop and milk whey unless someone told you. And even now, I'm not too sure....

I guess a few years ago Rivella had tried to branch out but nobody except the Swiss and Germans were having it, so they decided to focus on their key demographic and move eastward into Austria.

There are 4 flavors of Rivella and everyone has their favorites. From what I was told, Swiss parents send this in care packages when their children study abroad.

Zurich-the 3rd Most Expensive City in Europe

Which kind of makes you wonder what the other 2 are? I can't believe there are 2 cities that charge more than $12 for a grilled cheese, $5 for a Coke and $34 for a burrito plate (which in California could be less than $5).

Welcome to beautiful Zurich. And it is beautiful so I can't complain too much about the prices. Although I seriously can't figure out how people live there. All my Swiss friends say, "Oh people here make more money" but still.....

I also went to Zurich to meet up with a couple of my old students. We met in the train station, which apparently has the most amazing Swarovski crystal Christmas tree. I wouldn't know, because those dang uber efficient Swiss had already dismantled it by the morning of December 27. We nicknamed it, "the letdown tree".

While walking along the side of the Limmat River and down the Bahnhofstrasse (literally train station street and the upscale shopping area) are beautiful, however....

....if you only do one thing

in Zurich, climb to the top of the Grossmunster, Zurich's great cathedral. According to legend, the Grossmunster was founded by Charlemagne, when his horse fell to his knees there over the tombs of 2 of Zurich's patron saints. The cathedral also played a prominent part in the Protestant Revolution.

All very nice and well, but not the primary reason I recom

mend it. This is why:

Be forewarned: the climb is not for the faint of heart or the out of shape. It's steep and very narrow. There was a lot of squishing

yourself into niches in order to let others pass by. But the 360 degree views were so worth it.

And this picture is priceless.

I also saw the largest clock face in all of Europe at St Peter's, woo hoo!

We walked around quite a bit,which naturally made everyone thirsty, so my local friend Ana recommended we head over to the Jules Verne Bar.

It was probably one of the coolest bars I've been in. You have to enter at the Brasserie Lipp Restaurant and take an elevator up 11 stories into the round building, whereby you are greeted with more panoramic views of the city!

It's very cute and very intimate (read no seating) so when someone does actually leave a table, move fast! You need to jump on it or else someone else will elbow their way in. We finally got a table by the window by gradually encroaching on the couple sitting at it. I think they were trying to have a romantic date too. So sad.

After, we went to dinner to wait for some other friends. Our first choice was a fondue place called Swiss Kuche (Swiss Kitchen), a typical fondue place downtown. We didn't end up eating there since apparently you have to make a reservation first. Which is just as well because as we were leaving, Belgian Laura declared loudly, "that place smells like farts."

We ended up at a Mexican place instead. Word to the wise, Mexican food is apparently considered "exotic" in Switzerland. Hence the $34 burrito plate. Not able to stomach the price, I stuck with my $12 chips and guac.

However, I did get to see 2 more of my former students, Andre and Guido. So all in all, it was a good day. Oh and I also saw my first Swiss cow.

French Wine Country and Randy from Michigan

The day after Christmas, myself and the two Lauras drove from Basel to Colmar, France because the word on the streets was that this was the only Christmas market still open.

What a cute town! I've never seen housing facades like that. They looked like they could almost be candy or gingerbread houses.

The town is called "The Little Venice" because there are canals that run through the downtown area.

Although the town has fallen under both French and German control throughout the decades, it was spared the horrors of not only the French Revolution but also both World Wars, so the center looks how it did back in the day.

Here is us goofing around outside the Christmas Market. If you go, a word to the wise, avoid the main parking lot where everyone and their mother is going, if you circle around there is a, apparently unknown and perfectly legit, Christmas Market parking lot directly opposite and just down the street from the main one.

A typical Christmas Market Stall.

We hung around Colmar for awhile and then decided to press on. (BTW, interesting fact about Colmar which barely rates a mention in town, is that the village is the birthplace of Frederic Bartholdi, sculptor of the Statue of Liberty.)

I only know this because we passed a little sign on the edge of town announcing the fact. I wouldn't even 100% believe it, except Wikipedia confirms it. I am a little surprised the town didn't play up this fact a little more, but they seemed to be doing ok on tourism so maybe they figured why mess with a good thing?

More on Randy from Michigan tomorrow......

I love a good cliffhanger :D

Christmas Eve in Basel, Switzerland!!

First off, I have a correction to make. My Swiss friend Laura pointed out that in Switzerland, Schmutzli, aka scariest guy ever, doesn't come on Christmas Eve as I wrote in an earlier post. He comes on December 6. Christmas Eve is when the Christ Child comes and children get gifts.

Mea culpa.

On Christmas Eve, we walked some more around Basel and I got a great view of Lesser Basel from the overlook of the Basel Munster (cathedral) which sits on the banks of the Rhine River.

Next, I have to admit to some serious childishness.

There are some German words which aren't so nice sounding in English, including the infamous (at least in my mind) Ausfahrt.

In German, this simply means Exit, but in English it sounds like a none too pleasant bodily function.

You can thank a particular episode ("German Week") of the Britcom, "Are You Being Served?" for my particular obsession with Ausfarht and it's elusive cousin, Einfarht.

I'm sorry to say that I spent my entire time in Switzerland and Germany trying to find and photograph as many Ausfarht signs as I could. Here are two of my first.

Then we went to the train station to pick up Belgian Laura and walked over to Lesser Basel to visit the tallest skyscraper in the whole of Switzerland, the Masseturm. On the top floor of its 32 stories is a bar/club called, Bar Rouge. I'm not a big fan of heights, in fact, I'm a total baby but it was so nice to see the city from such a height.

This is the best photo we could manage from Bar Rouge. However, I highly recommend checking out their bathrooms.

Spoiler Alert!

The toilets face out onto the city and there is no protective window covering between you in all your glory and the entire city of Basel, Switzerland.

However, if truth be told, the only way anyone could see you would be if they had a helicopter and were perv enough to hang about outside the bathrooms on the 31st floor!

Schmutzli, the anti-Klaus

Christmas Eve Day in Basel saw us walking around the town center--unfortunately the Christmas Markets had already been dismantled. But there were still plenty of things to see, including the Lällekönig (tongue king), who literally sticks his tongue out at resident of "Lesser Basel" which is on the other side of the Rhine.

The river divides the city into 2 parts, Lesser and Greater Basel.

Be forewarned, this guy is hard to find as he's kind of jammed in an outside

corner of a restaurant along the river.

I also saw the symbol of Basel, the basilisk.

We had hot chocolate at one of the cutest tea shops in the world--

I don't remember the name but it's right in the main square with the Rathaus.

It's above a

chocolate shop and it's exactly how you would think a Swiss coffee shop would be.

It had little old lady waitresses wearing black uniforms and white aprons and the whole place was panelled with really dark wood. Each little individual table is wrought-iron with marble tops. The only thing missing were the cuckoo-clocks.

Everyone says Switzerland is expensive and they aren't kidding. For a hot chocolate and a tea, the bill was 12 Swiss Francs (which is almost a 1 to 1 ratio to US dollars).

However, the waitress did give us two of these free chocolates for Christmas, so I can't complain too much.

I learned how to say Merry Christmas is Swiss German, "Frohi Wiehnacht". I have to admit, I'm still a little confused on Swiss German.

As far as I understand, there is no official written Swiss German but all Swiss people can speak German, although this is a foreign language to them. Also, apparently German people have a hard time understanding Swiss German. And not all Swiss German is the same. In Basel, since it's so close to France you say "Merci" while in Zurich (which is about 1 hour away), you say "Danke" like in Germany. From what I was told, there is a big rivalry between the two cities because of this. Who would have thought?

And they say British and American English is different :D

One really neat thing we did was to visit the monument Dreilandereck which is where the 3 countries converge (Germany, France and Switzerland).

We also drove into Lorrach, Germany, but it was Christmas Eve and nothing was open so I can't say too much about it.

One thing I found so strange about Europe was the proliference of Roasted Chestnut stalls. I've never heard of this (outside of the Christmas carol).

A Spanish guy selling them in downtown Basel let us have a couple to try (again with the free samples--I love it!). I have to admit, they weren't my favorites. I think they're called marones in French and German, but the idea of chestnuts roasting on an open fire is much better in theory than in actual fact. They were huge and kind of chalky with very little real taste.

At the end of the day, we went to my friend Laura's parent's house for dinner. It was so great to see how a real Swiss family celebrates Christmas. First of all, they have the big celebration on Christmas Eve, not on Christmas Day like Americans.

We had a wonderful dinner including this mushroom pastry they made because I'm vegetarian. How nice!

After dinner, everyone opened their

gifts, but unfortunately Schmutzli didn't come by the house. He is Santa's little evil helper, aka the Scariest Thing Ever!

The Swiss Santa Claus is called Samichlaus and he, along with Schmutzli, will come to children's houses on Christmas Eve. They consult a book and if you've been good, Samichlaus will give you an orange or candy.

However, if you've been bad, Schmutzli will stuff you in his sack and take you away to the Black Forest, the whole time beating you with birch twigs!

This actually happened to my friend's 40-year old coworker! Well, he didn't get taken all the way to the Black Forest--the Schmutzli let him out of the sack at the end of his driveway. But still, I can only imagine you'd be scarred for life.

I don't think today's PC world lets Schmutzli get away with those sort of things nowadays.

It makes the American Santa Claus look pretty tame by comparison.