Today I learned that, at least in Switzerland, when using the photocopy machine, you put the paper on the other side of the glass. I was amazingly confused for at least 6 runs of the copier to keep getting blank sheets, before I realized that the copy machines here are the equivalent of cars in England = completely opposite!
By a fantastic fluke and the insights of S., I have learned how to use the company gym for free.(!) It's no 24 hour fitness. It's not even 12 hours, really. And, it's a whole new playing field when you are sweating gloriously next to your new co-workers, who don't really know you, but do know now that you are an excellent sweat-ter. But, that's probably a whole different article. Still, it's a free gym!
There are two TVs in the gym. It's not like they are best bonus - most everything is in French. But, when the channel is set on MTV, language is no barrier! (Which in itself must mean something...) Today, AGAIN, someone comes in and changes the channel away from the only pop connection I currently have, to put it onto what must be the most inspirational work out program ever: TENNIS! Eck!
It's bad enough that tennis is the national pastime in Switzerland. It is like the American football. Everyone knows the tennis players' names, match results, how to play tennis, and a few nights a week even, both of our Swiss TV stations air carefully moderated tennis matches. I just had no idea it was this bad....when you go to the gym and still can only watch tennis, I think you are a person who needs help. MTV is so much more inspirational!
Today we drove about an hour into France (our first voluntary visit into France!) to a little town, Annency, which has, among other really old things, a 1,000 year-old castle that is still inhabited by the family that has owned it for at least a few hundred years. On weekends they host tours, haunted-house-style (but not scary) where you walk through different rooms and watch re-enactments of life back 'in the day'. 
It was pretty neat - I think would have been more fascinating had it not all been in French. However, my nodding and faking comprehension skills are really improving!
Here's a picture of Jay carrying my purse for the day! It allowed me to take some great pictures, plus prove (to his surprise) that purses really are heavy.
Last Sunday we saw on our morning walk (if 11 am qualifies as morning?) that apparently every sailboat on the lake was going somewhere - all the same time. Here are some neat pictures - no idea of course if was a race, but they weren't going THAT fast...still, pretty impressive! 
Today we went into the city for a few errands (including purchase of a used washer!). We stopped at a little restaurant that featured fondue, steak, and pizza - quite the variety. Jay was still in the mood for pizza, so we both ordered one. In my usual fashion, I had no idea what I picked, just to be adventurous. I was very surprised when it had a fried egg featured prominently in the middle of it! It was actually delicious! Just as cute - the empty plate, which featured a traditional pizzeria theme, but with a 'Swiss Miss' serving...how Swiss can you get? 
I'm afraid my life this week has revolved around public transport and all of its glory, or perhaps little of it's glory. Most eventful was yesterday: the ticket machine at my stop was not working, so, having no cash, I had to hop on ticketless. Having already been caught once without a ticket, I was a bit nervous (I really embrace 'straighten up and fly right' when not doing so costs me money!)....and sure enough, the ticket miesters showed up before I arrived to Geneva. Despite my protests, I was still issued a ticket - which made me madder than a hornet. They told me that I just didn't know how to buy a ticket - so I made them go with me to a ticket machine so they could see me exhibit my ticket-buying intelligence. Sure enough, I would have graduated from that school - but the ticket was already issued, and they went on their way to ruin someone else's life.
The nice thing about life in Geneva is that schedules are, shall we say, flexible. I could have rushed off to be on time to work (heck, it was already 9 am), but I could not let the indignation go, and loving the pace of this life, decided, I didn't have to! After waiting on queue in two offices (don't I already sound Euro-ish?), I found the right office to talk to. Insisting they check the broken machine was no easy feat, but in the end, they did, and I achieved the impossible in Switzerland - they voided my ticket!
A joyful side note: the process of voiding the ticket (which is issued via a high tech, hand held machine) was a bit fascinating. With a computer right there on the counter, the agent wrote out the excuse letter in long hand on a sheet of paper, and then when it couldn't get any richer, opened a drawer that revealed a dozen different ink stamps, which he carefully tested (yes, it still stamps after 40 years!), adjusted the date, tested again (stiiiilll works!), and then stamped my letter. Then signed the stamp. And let it dry. I breathed a sigh of relief when he used an actual copy machine to make a duplicate. But, how cute!
Arriving triumphant to work over an hour later, I learned that none of the 7 or 8 people I told my story to had ever had a ticket voided! Even more thrilling!
On the way home, I received Swiss payback. Completely immersed in my iPod and magazine, I looked up after a longer-than-usual stop to realize, quite literally, I was the only person on the bus. Which was odd. The driver was making some announcement in French, but I always ignore those - apparently, he was telling everyone to get off the bus. I contemplated just staying there to see what would happen - would he get up to usher me off? Would he take me to me desired stop? Would I end up in the bus graveyard? - I begrudgingly got off the bus. And realized, I had no idea where I was. Garminless, mapless, and Frenchless, I decided the best strategy was to walk to the next bus stop, and continue to the train terminal. Unfortunately, the bus I chose went somewhere completely different. After 4 stops, I bailed off and tried to get my bearings - which wasn't so bad, but still it was an interesting 30 minutes or so of 'exploring the city' before I found the train station.
All told, it was almost 3 hours of 'commuting' that day...needless to say, Jay chaffeured me the next day.
We decided Sunday's shopping-less adventure would be a train downtown, a nice lunch, window-shopping, and a safe return home. Since I've been commuting, it's been easier to embrace the train, although I haven't embraced buying tickets, because no one appears to purchase them, and no one ever checks if you have them. Why spend $4 for one ticket, especially when it equates to just 20 minutes on the train itself? I guess it's the 'thrifty me', so rarely seen.
So, we board the train ticketless, against Jay's silent protest I'm sure, and as we are arriving to our stop in the city, the never-before-seen-or-heard of ticket checkers step into our car. Unlike so many other Swiss merchants, they spoke English, so my pleas of ignorance and newness fell on too-cognitive ears. Which was too bad, because 5 minutes later, we were $70 lighter. Ouch! On the bright side, I did convince him to charge us for just one person, vs. the usual per-person violation - so that was a 50% discount! And, I find that acting nonchalant about losing money for no good reason seems to help when muddling through these situations with someone else - I convinced Jay by example not to be mad!
So, jointly yet pleasantly deciding not to let it bother us, we went off in search of Jay's craving for the day - pizza. Now on Sundays, stores in Geneva are closed, but restaurants can open if they want. Interestingly, we could find a wide variety of food (Burger King should not qualify - but it was packed!), but not a single Italian restaurant of any kind. That was kind of funny.
Despite Jay's next choice being a smoke-filled English pub offering fried-whatever, I convinced him to opt instead for "Cafe de Paris", a nice little outdoor place. Restaurants here do a great job of posting menus and prices, but this one seemed to have just a letter, in French, which we could not read. But I saw french fries (I can recognize that French food from many distances), so decided how bad could it be. We were seated, and waited for the menu...for several minutes, and it never arrived.
Instead, the waiter simply asked "medium or rare?". That's a winning strategy for a waiter in the USA, but not one we were expecting in meat-starved Geneva. To our delight, we had stumbled upon a restaurant that only served one dish: steak, served at your table in a flame-lit pan of garlic/onion/butter/gravy! True, there was bread, and salad...and yes, french fries, which dipped in said gravy was almost artery-crushing. But steak served in a literal boat of butter gravy? For that, I will learn to say 'Voila'! It was so delicious, it made us forget the whole train drain, and was a wonderful discovery considering our other options at the time.
Afterwards, we waddled past some expensive watch stores (there are so many here!), then waddled back to the train (with paid tickets in hand), and five minutes after arriving home, the sky opened up with rain for the rest of the day - a bonus that we didn't get wet! All told, our adventure in whole was a success, and I did learn a valuable lesson: things you like to eat are even better when served in butter!
Today wasn't too exciting - Fridays are the day most people apparently leave town to go to other exotic places. Of course, most people I work with are from nearby countries, so many are just heading home to visit friends and family. Which is still pretty neat - I can't imagine hearing "I'm flying to Germany today" will get old.
I was pleased to reclaim my spoiled princess status because it was raining this morning, so I bartered a ride to work from Jay in order to not get wet. Of course, oversleeping my alarm by 15 minutes (maybe on purpose) didn't hurt. The thing about trains are schedules...and I'm not so good with exact schedules. I'm more of a 'kind of on time' person. So this could be interesting.
I've scheduled to begin my French lessons in two weeks....so two more weeks of enjoying being the ignorant, mute American. I actually find I can navigate around 90% of what I need in life by just acting like I know what everyone is saying. But, learning French would be good - even though I'm still also going to try and pick up Italian from S. (today's lessons: 'uvo' is grape, and both Italians and Americans don't say 'bollocks' too often - a surprise to both of us), and then the functional German for understanding everyone else.
Tonight, we sampled the differences between Swiss and French wine...more than you might think! I'm really not kidding, the Swiss wine smelled sort of like cheese. Bon appetit!
Having lived most of my in vast, far-reaching states where driving anywhere
with a car isn't just a privilige - it's a God-given right - it was a surprise to see how many people commute here in Geneva. I had a sneaking suspicion when we came to visit earlier in the year and the real estate agent went on and on about how convenient the train station was to the house we would be renting. But, I filed the thought away in a dark part of my brain, and started dreaming instead of the sassy little SMART car I was going to get - they are all the rage here, and you can park sideways in them! What's not to love?
Begrudgingly, I started asking around for how people all get to work - and whether people really pay for parking? And the conversations on commuting started coming back up. A lot. People are very creative here - they ride bicycles, Vespas (!), take the train, but mostly, they take the bus. But few people seem to drive (and oddly, no one carpools???). 
So, last Sunday, I sucked it up, mapped the route from my house to work, and started on a practice run to make sure I didn't end up in France or something. It involves walking to the train station, hopping on a train, changing to a bus downtown, and arriving right in front of the building (yes, closer than the parking garage). All told, 40 minutes. And, the buses have these great digital screens in them that tell you the stops coming up, and what line changes there are - that's Swiss efficiency for you! 
Monday, I did it for real - and, I guess it's really not so bad. I drink my coffee, do some people-watching, and listen to French lessons on my iPod. OK, actually, I don't do that last part, but it seems like it would be a really good idea. It's been 4 days now, so..... I guess I'm officially a commuter. I'm still learning how to have that detached gaze while commuting - apparently the friendly smile approach is not part of the whole riger. Which is too bad. But eventually I'll get the hang of it.
One thing I never thought was such a terribly American concept was that of 'convenience shopping'. As I packed to leave California, it never crossed my mind to bid fond farewells to 11 pm run to Target or even a 9 pm Starbucks fix (ok, well yes, I did go say farewell to Starbucks...). But I should have, because that's all gone now! Shopping here isn't about easiness at all. First, you have to schedule when to go. Stores open early (hmmm, not great for me), but close at 7 pm almost every day of the week. So fitting in a grocery run after work, well really doesn't work. You'd think...that's what weekends are for! Well, if you shop between 8 am and 6 pm on Saturday, you'd be right. But otherwise, no shopping for you! Stores are closed promptly on Saturday evenings and don't open until Mondays - that's grocery, clothing, pharmacy, you name it. I still haven't figured out what happens if you get sick on a Saturday night around here (and hopefully I won't). I'm not sure I'm loving that...
On the bright, I've never seen so much chocolate for sale anywhere in the world than at any random store here in Geneva. There are entire aisles of just chocolate bars in the larger stores, not to mention the nuggets, chunks, shapes, liquids, and 'American' chocolate like Snickers (why bother???). I've decided the Swiss set the standard for loving their chocolate by a) consuming more than any human could think imaginable; and b) still looking so Swiss (tall, thin and not like someone who gorges on chocolate). We all strive to that standard, I think, so while here, I'm going to try for both A and B.....it's apparently possible! Last week, I decided I had to visit Ikea, which apparently furnishes every P&G expat's home here in Geneva. After a week of refusing to pay for full-size shopping carts at the grocery stores, a tear welled up in my eye when Ikea offered them up for free! Some things are universal!
So I've been in Geneva now for a few days and had a chance to take some photos before starting to work. It's funny how similar Geneva is to San Diego from a weather perspective. In San Diego, I'm used to a cloudy, overcast morning with complete burnoff by noon and nice balmy sun for the rest of the day. That's exactly how it's been here almost every day - with the exception of the clouds burning off - sometimes they get stuck in the alps across the lake, which is kind of cool/mystical. This is a picture from the park on the lake by our house - pretty amazing!
But then, just two blocks down the road, there's this...but I shouldn't complain because this is probably my only choice for Mexican food for the next two years! 
