Vive le suburbs

Some picts of skiing/snowshoeing and the little monster in my ski boots is Kellen (4years old this month)

I thought Paris was international, but Geneva is REALLY international. Chances are someone will be speaking with a perfect French accent, then turn around and speak to me in a perfect American or British accent. I met a teacher from Belgium at the playground the other day whose students spoke both fluent French and English. And I think I’m getting better at this nannying thing or maybe I’m just in a better situation. Probably a bit of both. Anyway, I made shadow puppets the other night and found that I wouldn’t want to spend my evening any other way. Sometimes I like to play with them, but sometimes I just would prefer the kids just watch TV, so that I don't have to expend any energy.

Other things I am pleased about: I can find cottege cheese here, I’m starting French lessons again, I got a library card, I am meeting tons of new people my age who like to go out and or be outdoors through Couchsurfing, another site called glocals, and through my class, I can be outdoors and in the mountains very quickly, The Larys are letting me use their car, the ski boots I rented for the winter are really comfortable, I now have a kitchen I can cook properly in, I can have clean and or hot water whenever I want, getting around is pretty easy, I am living in a 6 bedroom/4 bathroom house in the middle of Europe...

Things I'm not too pleased about: Everything is REALLY expensive, it is going to be difficult to find another job like I had hoped to do, feeling lonely sometimes and questioning my reasons for being here, really wanting to get experience doing other things, and constantly learning and re learning to be patient and not expect things to be just one way or the other...

I’m starting to realize that there are several layers to Geneva. When I first came, I just saw the side with lots of money and I thought there wasn’t much depth, but I’m finding that there are lots of young people here going to school, working for the UN, working for a bank, but who also love to do outdoor things and go to bars at night.

I realize that I’ve just been here for almost a month now (wow, the time has been going by really fast), but the more I stay, the more I feel pretty comfortable here. The Lary family has been really great also. The kids are pretty easy going care of compared to the last few places I’ve been. I’m having a great time just playing with them, though they definitely have more energy than I have and keep wanting to play long after I do.

I also realize about myself that I really need/unconsciously try to be in the middle of things whenever I go somewhere new because I really want to feel what those other people are going through. I also really want to just be apart of the place that I travel to. Anyway, a la prochaine fois...

Ach Gamoto!

Ach Gamoto!

There is so much to say about the last two months in Greece, but really it’s the little things that I want to share. I spent 6 weeks at a farm in Argalasti with Anika who is German, Nikos (Greek) and their three kids: Yannis 9, Sophia 7, and Katerina 3 (going on 18). Katina is Nikos’ mother who lives down the path towards town. I intended to only spend two weeks there, then go on to another farm and travel, but stayed on because they needed help, then just until Christmas, and eventually ended up spending most of my time there then my last week on Crete. These memories are not in order, but really it doesn’t matter. siga siga (slowly, slowly)…

I want to remember things like walking down the path from the farm to pick Yannis and Sophia up from school at 1:15 and going to/eating a big grandma meal at Katina’s house, enjoying the silence of the generator being off while working in the garden (in the beginning when the weather was nice), the sound of 42 horses munching on their dinner as the sun is setting over the sea, waking up to snow one morning, having a hay fight with Yannis and Sophia, Katerina kicking her legs in the air and giggling every time I rolled the dice and tried to guess which number would come up and Nikos and Anika watching and laughing along with us, playing memory with Katerina and her ordering me to sit somewhere or asking me “could you pleas…” or “vhat is zis” in her little German/Greek accent, going fishing with Nikos and talking about life, Greek culture, etc…drinking cold instant coffee, trying to get the scorpion fish out of the nets, and getting shocked by the electric fish, going night spear fishing my last night, watching Nikos and Georgos play at the taverna then going to the “club” with Yannis and the other boys (ie Nikos and Yannis who are brothers, Apostoles, little Dimitris, Vasilniki and her brother (another time), working in the taverna Christmas eve because the server didn’t show and getting yelled at in Greek by Katina for clearing away the wine bottles before she could count them (though I counted them as I put them on the table and that seemed to make things OK), collecting woods with Katina and Nikos, the Nissan not making it up the muddy hill with a bed and trailer full of wood, so I sat on the hood of the car to weigh down the front, then just stayed up there because it was fun, the way Katina said laurA, the same hand gestures that all Greeks make, Anika constantly complaining about not being able to turn around in the small kitchen that is also the living room and sometimes bedroom, burning her popo on the woodstove (several times), making a quiche the first week that I was there and making Anika happy that I cleaned the kitchen, Anika Nikos and Katina all getting pissed that the cats get inside, but all of them picking them up, giving them love, and letting them inside at some point in time, Nikos starting to say Ach Lauren!, then Anika, then Katerina, Electrician Yannis (not little Yannis), and the rest, the tent, going to take the olives for pressing at the local place in town and Nikos telling me how they steal from everyone, helping Nikos paint the boat they later called the Lauren, helping Nikos fix the windows for the soon-to-be living room, cleaning fish in the taverna while Nikos gave bouzuki lessons, drinking Greek coffee and listening to Nikos practice bouzuki in the morning/afternoon/evening, Anika teasing me about saying "what's that" when I don't hear something and me teasing her about putting dishes away "upstairs", going horseback riding with Maya (another WWOOFer) and falling off, getting kicked by that same horse many weeks later and getting a bruise on my leg the size of a small child’s head, showing pictures and the movie of one of the farm cats giving one of the farm dogs a massage to the kids, going for walks with the kids and throwing them around/tickling them, working in Michalas’ coffe shop for ten days and all those experiences, i.e. meeting Zoe, the two Steffanoses, going to Lafocastro, all the old men drinking coffee/smoking cigarettes and playing cards all day, trying to understand their orders and make greek coffee, hitchhiking to Volos and getting picked up by Nikos and Anikas’ neighbor Dimitris who makes wine and talked a lot about his sons, realizing that every man is either named Nikos, Dimitris, Yannis, Costas, or Georgos (Yorgos) in Greece, going out for tsiporo and oers d’ouvers for 2.50 euros, lukaniko (spicy sausage), grilled octopus, rice and minced meat wrapped in grape leaves, minced meat and rice wrapped in cabbage with a lemon sauce, trying lamb that Nikos/Katina cooked in the oven for a whole day and night, the feta and fresh goat cheese!, Greek yogurt and honey, catching fish and eating it the next day with the family, Ankika’s soups!, Spending Christmas at Katina's (when everyone was sick, so I pretty much ate a chicken by myself) and New Years at the taverna with the family, getting used to throwing all paper in the basket and not the toilet, to make olives: soak them in vinegar for a week, then put them in salt water and cover with olive oil. You know the water is salty enough if a raw egg floats, remembering to keep my fire going all day if I wanted my room to be warm at night, trying to use the internet in the apartment above the taverna, but not being able to spend more than an hour there because my fingers would freeze off, coming to Greece to pick olives and ending up not picking a single one…

Crete:

Why Crete? Because I needed some sun and warmth. It wasn't tropical, but it was lovely. I took the ferry at 8pm from Pireaus (Athens Port) and got in at 7:30 in the morning. I will remember the ferry being cheaper than the buses, staying at the Rythmno Youth Hostel, renting a car and swimming naked on the south side of the island in the Lebennon sea (part of the Mediteranean) with Jeff and Ben (two gay guys studying architecture in Copenhagen) we intended to head to Palakis, but ended up in Agia Galina, not feeling my index finger for a half hour after swimming because it was cold, day tripping with Dimitris, Constanz from Argentina who just spent six months as a doctor in Africa for doctors without boarders, and Unsung from S. Korea, trying to see two caves, but having them both be closed for the winter, stopping for lunch with them at the perfect taverna in the sun eating a plate of meat, tzaziki, fried potatoes and drinking homemade wine, day tripping twice with a Philip and Julia from New Zealand. We rented a car in the morning, saw many ruins and realized we didn’t even introduce ourselves until half way through the first day. I guess we just forgot that part, driving in Greece/experiencing the fiat, buying a 20lbs sack of the best tasting oranges I’ve ever eaten along the roadside and eating a third of them by the end of the day, saying I was going to sleep early but rarely going to sleep before 3am (at the farm also), going out to see live music with Dimitris the first night. Heart to hearts with Dimitris, dinner and drinking raki the last night in Chania, going to Rene and Mario’s apartment for dinner/coffee. Ivan and Malena from Serbia who managed the hostel and made the place warm and friendly, they made it feel like a home away from home, Tito, the bitter French man trying to learn English, Steve the 50 something American man from LA who I named “the regergitator” from LA who would learn about something then try to impress everyone with what he knew and had endless pointless anecdotes to support it, feeling the sun after weeks of cold and clouds in Argalasti…

Shit, I forgot about spending a couple days in Athens. My favorite times were going to the island Agina for the day with an American girl who stayed at my hostel with me; Joanna from New York studying in Prague. We rented a vespa and toodled around for the afternoon. In the evening we stopped to eat octopus and feta at a restaurant next to the bay and both tried ouzo for the first time (me after spending 6 weeks in Greece and not trying it yet). We sat there, getting a bit tipsy, watching the fishing boats come in and the sun set, then realized that we had 2 minutes to return the vespa. I ran back to the place/where the vespa was parked to get my drivers license back, but it was closed. I thought I would have to take the vespa back on the ferry with me, but found the man down the street and all was well. While in Athens, I also saw the Acropolis and the National Acheological Museum. But to be honest, I only spent an hour at the Acropolis and a half hour at the museum. Those kinds of things are just not my deal. The rest of the time, I spent time sitting in the sun, people watching and just wandering the streets. I have to say, I was happy to be out of Athens, which by the way is the largest city in Europe actual size wise.

Greek words I learned: yasas/yasu (hello, good bye), eferisto (thank you/excuse me), psomi (bread), nero(water), paragalo(you’re welcome/please/what do you want), gamoto/malaka (fuck/jackass, but in a nice way), hellanicos(greek coffee), metreo(a little sugar), elico(lot of sugar), agape(love), ena/deo/trea (one, two, three), ella (come/go). And yeah, all of these are how I heard them, not the way they are spelled.

Cultural things I learned: Greeks are very proud of their history and being Greek. I found in general, they are very expressive and open. All Greek chairs are made the same way and Nikos said that they were made to play the bouzuki (like a cross between a guitar and a lira). At one time bouzuki was outlawed, so people made really small ones that they could hide/take to prison with them. Fishing and boats is very much a part of the culture and many men work/have worked on merchant ships. All Greek men are required to spend time in the Greek army where they learn to smoke, drink, and be dirty. Greeks are also very much into their cars and have many part shops everywhere. Greek drivers are crazy, and there are many little churches along the roadside to show where people died. Many men swing beads on a string between their fingers (I forget what they are called), it was explained to me that it is like tattoos in the US, it used to be that only tough people would do it, but now everyone does it and really it’s just something to keep a person distracted from smoking too much. Everyone smokes a lot in Greece. Everyone in Greek Orthodox and when they pass by a church, they will make the sign of the cross, though not everyone is religious. When you go to a club, you will find Greek dancing as well as normal club music. They will dance in the middle of restaurants between the tables if there is live music and no one thinks anything of it, sometimes break plates, etc.. Men dance with men and women dance with women, hold hands, shoulders, etc. They describe themselves as Hellinic not Greek because “Greek” is the slang term given to them when they were under rule (by whom I forget).

Ah, I think I got most of it out, but there is so much more. Anyway, I’m in Geneva now and on to the next part of my adventure. More to write soon. Now that I have better access to internet.

Yasas

On The Road Again

I was going to post the Geneva and Farm picts, but it isn't working, so next time I guess hey...

I spent last night with a couple in Toulouse and am proud of my self for speaking French pretty much the whole time. The woman didn’t speak much English, so I did my best to follow and participate in the conversation. We actually had some good talks about French politics, the mentality of different cultures and other filysophy. I really enjoyed it. So, pourquoi in Toulouse? Well…it is definitely not the most efficient way to get back to Paris, but it was (I thought) more than half the price going Agen/Toulouse/Paris than going from Agen/Bordeaux/Paris instead. Turns out they didn’t have my supposed reservation when I went to retrieve my ticket even though I was armed with the reservation number car and seat number. I ended up buying a much more expensive ticket. I thought I was being smart and frugal, but it turns out it ended taking more time and more money. But I did get to couchsurf in Toulouse and the people were great! So incredibly nice, environmentally cognizant, generally sincere. But yeah, definitely sick of dealing with transportation (did I mention there was another strike which lasted a week?!) I have not had good luck with transportation in France. My journey to Paris ended up being Marmande, Agen, Toulouse, Bordeax, Paris, leaving Monday afternoon and getting in around 14:30 Tuesday afternoon. Ah, but I just put my headphones in and listened to music which definitely improved my mood and makes my soul happier.

So, about the farm…

Since it’s winter, there really was just basic farm stuff to do. I.e. take care of the animals (the picture below is of me cleaning out chez geese, clearing les herbs mauvais (weeds) away from the vines, scraping/painting shutters, etc. I also became the go-to mice catcher. I caught 4 mice during my stay. The first I caught with a bowl, but not before it peed in my room though. I was going to let it out, but it escaped from the bowl and I stepped on it accidentally (with my bare foot too). The second mouse was actually caught in the trap. I intended to set that one free too, but I put it outside because it was keeping me awake and it froze over night. So, the third one, which I caught with a toilet plunger, I was determined to set free. I put it in a little plastic container (see below), and made sure it had enough air and it was warm, but alas, it also died of fright (we think) during the night. But the 4^th! The fourth survived. That one I caught for Sandra in the grain bag just with my hands. I had the benefit of it being trapped in the bag already though. There actually was a fifth that showed itself the day before I left, but I couldn’t figure out how to get up into the attic to catch it. I feel like I have unfinished business with the mouse community there, but such is life.

I absolutely loved working outside. Yeah it got below zero in the mornings a couple days and it rained (really only one bad day), and the work itself was not the most mind expanding things, but it was good. It’s just a good quality of life. Quality not quantity, that’s my new motto. Perhaps I should rename my blog. Though it was fun competing to see if Philip could catch up to me pruning while I was weeding.

The day I left, I thought the bus went to Agen around 16:40, but turns out the last bus actually left at 12:40. We discovered this around 11:30. So, I quickly got my stuff together and ate lunch, but we just took too long savoring the food (it really was good!) and I ended up missing the bus to Agen. So I took the bus to Marmande (which is not the same bus stop to Agen and is actually on the other street, by the way) and then a local train to Agen. No worries though, I had all day just to get to Toulouse, so I wasn’t that worried and it was about the same price. While on the bus listening to French accordion music, I was entertained watching the bus driver in the mirroir playing with his mustache. It occurred to me that the French mustache isn’t just a style. Really the men (mostly bus and train drivers I’ve found) grow it so that they have something to play with all day! It looks fun and kinda makes me wish I could grow a mustache. I ran into another amazing stache at the train station in Agen and documented it without the conductor knowing (he he he). He IS the cliché. See below.

I could write a blog post about things that happen to me every couple of hours so you have to realize that these are just little sum ups. My mood also varies every couple of hours, so I have to force myself to write these when I’m not to tired, hungry, or stressed (which can coincide only when I have time to write my blog). So, the loooong train ride seems ideal. Oh and as to other logistical matters, I’m planning to be in Geneva around the 15^th of January. Really not planning on searching out wireless or internet cafes much in Greece, so I’ll write again sometime…

Muesli in the Morning

Below this post is the post I wrote in Geneve, but never posted, so read on mon amie

I made it to the farm. So, so nice to be out in the countryside! When I got here there were two other woofers one girl from the US and a guy from Vietnam. Funny, the guy from Vietnam came here to improve his English. I came here to work on my French…since, as it turns out, both Philip and Saundra lived in England/Canada, looks like he is going to get more practice than me. Well, I can work on my French if I want. Both kids speak it as well as the adults, so I will just have to force myself to. The work hasn’t been too exciting so far; just clearing the weeds away from the vines so Philip can prune them, scraping paint off the shutters, and making apple pies. We start work at 8, work outside all day and usually eat dinner at 8 or so with lunch of course around 1pm. My back is incredibly sore, but my soul is happy. Did I mention how great it was to not be in the city? Wondering about the blog title? Well, that is all we get for breakfast. The woofers stay in a little house not attached to the main house. It has two bedrooms and an office. I am staying in the caravan because the other two rooms are taken. Tomorrow (Saturday) is my day off, both of the woofers are leaving and I will be left all to myself. This means that I won’t have anyone to talk to while pulling weeds, but it also means I get to move inside. So, c’est la vie. I dig the girl from the US, Caroline. She has been here for about 2 months and is going to Barcelona after this to teach English to kids. Philip and Saundra have a boy and a girl 7 and 9. They are really cool kids too. Despite the occasional upset, they are pretty chill and intelligent. I am really enjoying hanging with them. So, that’s what’s up for now. I don’t have internet access, so I can only check emails now when I go into town and I will only be able to go into town on my day off. Until next Saturday then…

Geneva

There is nothing better than traveling! I’ve met so many wonderful people. And when you couchsurf, you stay with people who are in their element. They know the town, they speak the language, they know the good and bad places to go. When I travel and stay at a When I meet other Americans though, sometimes I get the feeling that they are showing off where they have been or if they speak another language and look down on you and your experiences. It seems like they are competing and collecting experiences. I find that with some English too. I’ve never experienced that with an Australian. I’ve liked every Australian that I’ve met so far, no question. They are just more humble and laid back. Americans are so frickin insecure I think.

Today I played giant chess in the park, helped cook and ate a chicken that the woman's roommate’s parents grew on their farm. She has told me a lot about Geneva that there is no way I would know otherwise. For example, most people who live in geneve are not from there. The UN people pretty much stick to themselves. If someone decides to work for the UN as say a secretary or something, then you are marked as a secretary for life and can never move up in rank. But it’s worse than just that. If you take a certain position, not janitor or something, but work for the wrong office, that will mark you for your entire career. C’est bizzare. Also, the UN doesn’t pay taxes, so even though supposedly they are fighting for the rights of people all over the world, they are not contributing to the community that they are living in. hmm, a bit hypocritical perhaps??? There are also very different parts of town. There is the part with money and the part without. It is very difficult to find housing in Geneve because it is so expensive and it is full! There just aren’t places. Also in shared housing (ie apartments) each occupant has one day/half day in which they can do their laundry. She told me it is uniquely Swiss in this. There are many people who just find buildings to squat in for free, but they are starting to crack down on it more now. It’s stuff like this that you just can’t learn on a tour or staying in hostels. I didn’t ask what happens if you do laundry on a day that’s not yours . I just don’t think that’s done.

Anyway it feels great to be free and traveling again. I feel so much more myself when I am engaged and learning. There was just nothing for me in Paris and I felt like I was living someone else’s life. It is possible to live with the family, be learning things (about myself as well) and still have a social life. I think I felt stifiled in Paris because I felt that I couldn’t go out or do anything without being looked down upon. Maybe it was my mentality, but that is just how I felt. If I put the effort in, I could have gone out more, but honestly, it just didn’t inspire me to go out in Paris. I know they’re got to be people living there who I would love to hang out with, but I just can’t stay there long enough to find them. I also was experiencing many things for the first time and felt that what did I know, I was just experiencing instead of engaging. Hmm, not the first time I’ve approached something like that…

Halloween in Geneva: we had trick or treaters and they said thank you in English. At first, Caroline didn’t know what they wanted. Fortuneately, I had two lolies in my purse and gave it to them. What a strange experience.

Escape of the Snail

I was walking in the market the other day and I passed by a man selling loads and loads of live crabs, lobsters, and snails. I was mesmerized (simple mind, simple pleasures I suppose) by the little snails all moving around, not going anywhere. Finally, one of them managed to climb up over the lip of the bowl and I watched it maintain poise for a moment then fall to the table. It kind of gave me a sense of admiration for it's tenacity, but I honestly don't think it's chances were that much better outside the bowl.

Anyway, back to my latest adventures. The metros, buses, and trains were all on strike last Thursday and Friday. They do these every once in a while to prove to everyone (the government) that they are crucial to the city and should not be treated unfairly. "Unfairly" in this case, was not wanting the retirement age to be increased to what everyone else's retirement age is. Appearantly, the government is trying to save a bit of money with pensions, but the workers think that they still should be able to retire early (though they don't really work much now). Regardless, this meant more aggravation for all the rest of us. Because no one can use public transportation, everyone drives in from the burbs, so there is absolutely no way to take a taxi or drive without being stuck in traffic for hours. The best way is bike, walk, or roller blade. We opted for roller blades to take the kids to school, but that meant that I had to run along side them and carry the rollers back. They ended up just keeping the rollers at school and all worked out, but still a pain in the ass.

On Friday, the strike was still in effect though some metros were working. I was supposed to go to Amsterdam to meet up with my friends Andy and Katie, but obviously no trains, so I took the bus instead. I ended up not being able to leave until about 11:30 due to delays and what not, so 8 hours later, I finally got to Amsterdam. Oh what a crazy city! It felt like the Las Vegas of Europe, but with cooler buildings and nicer people. I say that because everyone goes there to get drunk, high, or have sex. Amsterdam is famous for it's red light district, but we did not hang out there very much at all because we couldn't handle the vibes. I was there for just a short time, but managed to check out the Van Gogh Museum the Oude Kerk (church in the red light with a huge organ), and biked all around the canals and what not. I would be lying if I said I didn't check out a coffee shop or two though :)

I ended up couchsurfing with an American guy who owns a specialty beer store and his girlfriend. They live above the store and let me crash on their couch for the couple nights that I was there. I dug those guys so much! They were really friendly and nice and Jeff gave me all kinds of beer suggestions which I preceded to accept until about 5am at the bar across the street. Amsterdam was a great town, but I think a couple of days was just enough for me. Below are some pictures from Amsterdam and from the strike. The sandwitch is a local specialty: raw herring with pickles and onions. Mmmm, apart from crepes, I think it is my second favorite street food. There is also a picture of the bike parking situation in Amsterdam and one of the public toilets for the guys that I thought was kinda a funny/dirty, yet an efficient way of urinating on the street.

Plans

Oh man just went to the Ani Difranco concert last night. It was AMAZING! She is so fricken talented it makes me want to cry. Concerts in France are a bit interesting. They start on time, go for a designated amount of time then have only one encore and it's over. Strange, but kinda nice too. I am posting some picts from it and also a couple picts from Normandy last weekend. The strange looking lamp is a piece that Marco (Anne's boyfriend) made himself out of wood and honey combs. Pretty sweet in my opinion. The two of them are standing in front of their dart board because we had a dart tournament (of sorts) Marco kicked both of our asses, but we all had fun trying to compete. Oh, and there is a picture of Pablo with my ipod for good measure just cause I thought he looked cute.

Ok, so today the kids are gone at their dad's place. I got to sleep late, have a leisurely breakfast and play on the internet all morning without being bothered. The internet can be a dangerous thing sometimes and right now my head feels like it's going to explode from all the information/travel planning I've been doing. I have a week in between leaving Paris and going to the farm in November, so I have to figure out where I will go. The plan right now is to go to Croatia. Why Croatia? Well, I've heard from several people that it is warm, friendly, cheap, and I need to go to a non European Union country if I want to renew my travel visa. Therefore, I am now looking at places for that as well. So the plan right now is: Farm outside Boardeaux in November, Greece in December, Corsica (maybe) in January or Spain, or the other way around, and then I don't know yet. Ah, so much planning, but it's a good problem to have I think.