Not the same

I thought I was being clever when I blogged about tram signs, and things you can't do on trams and buses in Switzerland. Well, I guess Kansas City also has signs on buses which are restrictive for passengers, albeit two fifths less restrictive than Zurich, which seems typical of everything. Apparently on Kansas buses, we can still saw the seats. But, we are not allowed to use Harry Potter wands, eat hotdogs, drink sodas, nor carry on Peterbilt truck grills.

And, I tried a Haagen-Dazs bar out of Magnum desperation today. It's not the same. Nowhere close.

Gluttony

Sugar, enriched bleached wheat flour, water, partially hydrogenated vegetable oils, palm oil, corn syrup, corn starch... 370 calories, of which 150 directly from Fat (17g).

Basically, sugar and corn. Of course. I am corn.

I must admit I have fully enjoyed eating the last week with reckless abandon. Not that a week is edible, but I somehow managed to eat it. Ho Hos, and Ding Dongs, and Cupcakes. Oh my. Hostess probably didn't realize in 1967 that such branding names would turn out to be something someone doesn't want to eat. But hey, what's in a name?

In the spirit of Commercial Christmas ("ho ho ho" is the sound Santa makes), Sarah picked up a package of these at the QuikTrip, currently having visited 5 times so far. She knows my childhood emotions about such things. Along with thousands of calories, I still store fond memories of raiding the kitchen cabinets at 3am for the school lunch goodies. Back then they were individually wrapped with aluminum foil. Now, 3 are bundled and sold separately. Open the package, eat them all. I haven't seen these in Zurich, yet. I can't imagine smart people would let them in to pollute the food supply.

Gluttony used to be one of the 7 deadly sins. Now it's a logo on a hamburger joint in Adliswil.

Back, Day 4

Had sushi last night with the Tobins at Ra, a sushi restaurant inside the new W Hotel in Overland Park. It was good, the company was awesome, but still I had Sushi House on my mind. Trevor and I even had to stop in to say "hello" to Brian, and mention to him that we were going to be there on the weekend, just in case the message hadn't gotten to him during the reservation.

A lot of Christmas shopping is occurring. Prices here are 1/3rd the price of everything in Zurich. Kris and I are laughing when we see the food bills come... "Omg, look at this! You can feed an army here for under $100!" Still not sure how America does this, but my thoughts about subsidizing corn are persistent. Maybe there's also more about how America drives efficiency into everything produced on large scales. I have heard Swiss citizens fear this type of mass-production-thinking invading their lifestyle. Migros, a Swiss style Wal-Mart, absorbs reputation hits for this.

As for other luxuries...
her: So, how do you like driving a car again? Is it hard to pick it back up?
me: It's like riding a bike.

Sorry. I thought that was clever, but now that I read it, it's pretty stupid.

Back, Day 1

Chipotle Pork Bol. Well worth the 18 hours of transit time. Mixed with two visits to QuikTrip, my daughter is in heaven.

Day started with Einstein's bagels for breakfast, moved to Chipotle's for lunch, and will finish with Jose Pepper's for dinner. Clearly we are unable to locate worthy Mexican food in Switzerland. If anyone knows of exceptional Mexican food in Zurich, I'm all ears.

Also made a visit to Lukas Liquors for four bottles of Stag's Leap Artemis. Will bring 2 back with me and give one to my now ex-boss, who claims he doesn't read this blog, but somehow can always quote it. :) Hi Ex-Boss; bottle on its way.

PACK!

Tomorrow we head to Kansas, passing through Newark on our way.

her: What the ... ?? You're BLOGGING instead of PACKING??
me: I'm a pro. I can pack in 10 minutes. I have it down to a science now.
her: Whatever, "Pro". You aren't remembering the last time you waited until the last minute?
me: I always wait until I leave to pack.
her: Ok, you're a packing scientist. Which means you have perfected it down to forgetting only 2.4 items you need to pack.
me: Huh? 2.4?
her: 1 shoe, 1 pair of matching suit pants but you have the jacket, and 40% of your shaving kit.
me: (blink)

Ski

I made it home without being airlifted by a red helicopter. My buddy told me to get the red helicopter insurance before I stepped onto a slope, but I didn't.

gus: That was such a cool day.
me: What was so cool about it?
gus: Being able to slide down a hill really fast on your feet.

I told Sarah she could now check off skiing in the Swiss Alps from her Bucket List. I also told her that her future fiance will be angry that she's been so many places, to which she responded with silence by quickly falling asleep on my lap.

For me, the worst was the brutal walking in Frankenstein shoes, ripping the flesh out of my shins. I could have handled it if I were only walking around the slopes in concrete bricks. But, because my wife heard the key phrase "You'll want to wear your boots so that they stay warm, even on the train," I was wearing them while getting the skis out of the basement, lugging around luggage filled with our clothing for afterward, around the train stations, on the trains, trying to somehow hurry around in shoes that would suit me better if I were a corpse tossed into the Hudson. I'm sure the neighbors enjoyed the four of us clomping around the flat and halls. One more event to remember with The Louds.

Hmm

Yesterday, as I walked to work in the 4th consecutive day of rain, I found myself caught in a reflective thought. I am no longer feeling like I'm somewhere else. This is all starting to feel familiar now.

A friend, an expat colleague, was asked several weeks ago as I was giddy about my own upcoming travel home...

me: Are you going back home for the holidays?
her: You mean Kansas? We're not going there for the holidays.
me: WHAT? Are you crazy? WHY NOT?
her: (micro-glance of surprise at my reaction) Well, Switzerland is our home now. We're happy here.

Brain jolt, perspective shift.

It took me 4.5 months to cozy up to the thought that I'm choosing to be comfortable in a "foreign country", or not. My blogging has started to diminish in frequency because the differences aren't seeming so extreme any more. I still don't know the language, but I'm now pondering getting more serious about this as I am often told it would greatly enrich my experiences, and get me closer to understanding the cultural differences which have seemed extreme to me.

At the moment, I am making no plans to stay, but I'm also not making plans to leave. I'm in a where-will-I-live limbo until some point in Q1'10, when other decisions are made around me. For the time being, I am finally choosing to enjoy the location I am in, a concept my wife has been experiencing since she first arrived in her dream-state 4.5 months ago.

Yum

Ok, maybe yum doesn't quite capture my enthusiasm for a Magnum Almond bar.

How about yuuhuuhuhuum?

Schlecht

A former expat colleague, considerably more youthful, and while still an expat, giving me advice...

fec: Do you ski?
me: No.
fec: Snowboard?
me: No.
fec: (pause) Do you like sitting for long periods of time alone waiting on people to return from those activities?
me: Not really.
fec: (pause again) Then I hope you can tolerate spending months under clouds.

We're getting ready to go skiing for the first time ever as a family. We'll take lessons, of course. I am afraid of this activity since one minor aspect of parenting is keeping one's eye on one's children. I can already sense they will be fearless and ski-sprinting down very long Swiss Alp mountain sides, while I will be pondering the contrived safety and long boredom of catwalks.

The clouds here are persistent. "Das Wetter ist schlecht" translates (roughly) to "the weather sucks so bad it's worth commenting on it." The people here escape this depressing long-term doldrum by going above the clouds, socializing, enjoying the activities and entertainment the mountains attract. It is a subculture I know nothing about, but am willing to give it a whirl. Will let you know how it goes. I fully anticipate getting hurt somehow.