Geneva has been an incredibly novel experience so far.  Two areas that I particularly want to mention are washing clothes and cooking.  The former, not as hard as I thought, and the latter, respect.

Lets start with cooking.  To summarize my culinary abilities in two words: I suck.  The other day I chopped up some vegetables into pasta sauce and cooked them for about ten minutes.  It was the most disgusting thing I have ever tasted.  After that traumatizing experience, I’ve played around with some other improvised recipes, and I have significantly improved.  Today I repeated the sauce and vegetable formula, added some fresh peruvian avocado, and it turned out to be very good.  I am tired of pasta, so for the next month, I will switch to kuskus.  Meat is more expensive than watches in Geneva so ham and tuna are my only protein source.

About clothes, let me begin with some reflexions about a comment I heard the other day.  Am I spoiled because I have never washed my own clothes?  I don’t think so;  it is just a result of what life has put in front of me.  I lived in Ecuador for my whole life (if you don’t know how to interpret that, please come visit Ecuador.  Room and board are on me), and I attended the most prestigious liberal arts college in the US in garment-cleanliness terms (laundry services are included in tuition.  Thank you Lula Bell Houston).  Are people from Geneva “spoiled” because they can drink water from the faucet?  No, that is just the way things are.  In any case: thank you Geneva for un-spoiling me.

This past weekend was a long one due to Jeune Genevois, a day celebrated in the canton of Geneva to commemorate the massacre of Saint-Barthelemew.  Enea, my “host” brother (Julie and Craig hosted him the year before I came to Davidson), cordially invited me to visit him in Lugano, and so I did.

I made use of Voie 7 card, which allows me to travel for free anywhere in Geneva after 7pm.  The ride from Geneva to Lugano is probably the longest train ride within Switzerland; 6 hours total, went to Zurich (north of Switzerland), and then to Lugano (southernmost tip of Switzerland- practically Italy), and went from listening French, to German, to Italian on the train’s loudspeakers.  I arrived there early in the morning and Enea picked me up.

The language in the canton where Lugano is located (Ticino) is Italian, and it is one of four official languages (French, German, Italian, and Romansh).  This totally messed with my French for the first day back to Geneva.

The first day we hiked Monte San Salvatore.  Unusually clear day and amazing view of the mountains.  This is the first country that even comes close to comparing to Ecuador’s orography.  On the top of San Salvatore Enea made me try Rivella, a Swiss soda made out of MILK SERUM.  If you have ever seen cheese being made (my Yunguilla people for sure now), milk serum is the watery substance left after you make cheeses.  Just add some color, carbonate it, and voila you have Rivella.  It wasn’t that bad, but the milk imagery comes to my mind every time I taste it.

The second day we went to Val Verzasca and visited the Verzasca Dam.  You almost certainly know this dam; just remember the opening scene of 007’s Golden Eye and voila.  For a moment I considered part-taking in the “worlds highest and most famous bungee jump,” but due to lack of “money” I decided not to jump.  To tell the truth, the high price (170 CHF) was the least of my concerns… it was just an extremely scary sight.  I will save some money (and courage) and go in a future date (Em or Nana, wanna join me?).  Enea’s reason for not jumping, was logically, “money” as well.

With our bodies raging with adrenaline after the sight of the 220m free fall of the Verzasca bungy jump, Enea and I decided to involve ourselves in a more “popular” (aka, free) extreme sport.  We went cliff jumping in the breathtaking, crystalline  blue river that feeds the Verzasca Dam (pictures to come on a slide show).  So rumor had it, that Craig Micallef ALMOST jumps from a bridge, so we HAD to jump.  So Enea showed me the bridge and we decided that it was too high and that we should jump from a lower cliff.  Well, we later realized that Enea was wrong… that was absolutely not the bridge that Craig and him almost jump from… it was the mother of all bridges in the Verzasca River.

I got in position to capture Enea’s jump on camera, and after a few minutes of meditation, he jumped.  The slap-to-the-wall sound he made when hitting the water made me worry for a second, but I was relieved to see him emerge out of the water and swim to the bank.

Then came my turn.  I asked Enea for some instants (many of them, perhaps 5 minutes)  to meditate and consider if I was gonna die.  Finally, after asking him 27 times if he thought that the river was deep enough, I jumped.  On the way down I just asked myself if I was really jumping.  I made a clean but awkward entrance to the water, and then I started to swim to the river bank.  Only then I realized how ridiculously cold the water was.  Lake Geneva’s waters are nothing compared to this.  The coldest water I have been in by far.  The good part was that, if I suffered any bruises, the ice-cold water healed them.  The climb up the cliff was intense… Enea the rock climber didn’t mention that the climb was so hard.  Then we went to some easier jumps higher up in the river.

That afternoon we did a charity run called La Corsa della Speranza, 5km.  Enea and I ate half a chicken two hours before the race.  We ran from Enea’s house to where the race was supposed to start (2-3km).  I almost puke twice during the race.

The third day we went to Bellinzona and saw the three castles that are in the valley.  The castles where built in medieval times to block and gain control of people and goods movements through the Ticino valley.  They were the toll booths of medieval times.

I got the pleasure to meet Enea’s siblings, and her Chilean exchange student Xavi.  It was a great weekend getting to know my brother postizo and his town, having some great conversations on the most diverse topics, hearing about his Cuban experiences, listening to his great Cuban music (over and over haha), playing some guitar, and eating some of his famous pasta.  Thanks Enea.

Today we hiked the Grand Saleve, or the Balcony of Geneva.  I was completely unaware that we had to cross over to France (extremely illegal).  Thankfully, I was able to come back into Switzerland without any problems.

The hike took us about 7 hours.  3 to go up, 1 hour picnicing (napping) at the top, and then 3 hours down.  This is formally my first experience “hiking”… I have walked a lot in Ecuador and my farm, we just don’t make a big deal out it and don’t buy expensive equipment to do it.

-Calfs, thighs, and knees are going to kill me tomorrow.  That means a forced stop to my running streak.

-Cows in France/Switzerland do wear big bells around their necks.

After the hike we went once again to the Bains des Paquis with a french and an indian friend and then had some great dinner at Roshni’s place (I had to go into the building undercover because boys are not allowed in it).  It was a great cooking lesson.

I am finally starting to feel a little bit more settled.  I like bullet points, so here is a quick summary of the week:

-I am finally motorized.  I bought a scooter (not the kind that have an engine).  I apparently look like a school girl on it.

-Got a phone

-Got a bank account

-Got a 1/2 price train card and a card called Voie 7.  With both, I can buy tickets at half price and I don’t have to pay to get on trains within Switzerland from 7pm to 5am.

Went to the offices of the TPG (Transports Publics Genevois) to buy a bus and tram pass for the whole month. Grabbed a number. Took 3 hours until my number came up. This seems to be the story of my life so far in Geneva. When I went up to the counter, I decided I didn’t need one because I was within walking distance of school and most of the main places within the city. At least I was going to use my ticket to get change for what I overpaid at automated bus ticket machines (ie, tickets are 3 CHF, I gave the machine 4 CHF= it gave me a ticket that entitled me to 1 CHF). In order to claim this 1 CHF back, I had to wait 3 hours in line, and apparently this is how they make tons of money because people don’t wanna wait that long for 1 or 2 francs. When I was about to hand my ticket to the person in the counter and get my money back, a random lady came and snatched the tickets out of my hand and gave me the money I was supposed to get. I asked her why she did that but couldn’t understand her French accent, she was definitely an immigrant. I have a slight feeling that I might have been given fake money. We’ll see.