This past weekend, I went to Solothurn and checked out the Kunstsupermarkt, which is the Swiss equivalent of New York's Affordable Art Fair, encouraging people to buy original art for their homes, instead of having the same museum prints as everyone else. After that, I checked out the Art Brut Museum in Lausanne, which is dedicated to outsider art. In general terms, this refers to untrained, nonmainstream artists, but practically speaking, a large percentage of these artists are mentally handicapped or psychologically disturbed. There were, however, a few artists represented who were well-adjusted members of society who just happened to dabble in art in their free time or after retirement. All I could think was, would you really want your work to be displayed in that context, since people then just assume you were either stupid or crazy? Although I have to admit, the crazier the person was (based on the bios provided by the musem), the funkier and more interesting the art they produced. The coolest pieces were by people who heard voices, molested little girls, or grew up in insane asylums. The everyday people just couldn't compete, I guess because they weren't guided by voices. Voices that told the other artists that burnt siena would be better than yellow ochre for painting in the monster's eye that was staring at the naked shemale under the serpent-tree.
Anyways, back to real life. Well, no, back to Swiss life... Non-Americans apparently have a very, let’s say, interesting view of American life. One person I know has what he calls “American parties” once in a while, where they entertain American-style. What is an American party, you ask? Well, in basic terms, it’s a cookout. OK, so I thought that was a good start. I should have left it at that. They don’t have ribs or steaks or chicken or hot dogs. (Seriously.) They serve burgers. (Makes sense.) But they eat them with BBQ sauce or honey mustard. (Huh?) They don’t put American cheese or Swiss cheese on their burgers, since they don’t exist here, and I didn’t want to know what cheese they use, instead, after finding out that Monterey Jack also doesn’t exist, and cheddar is something they have heard of but don’t eat. Instead of hot dogs, the ubiquitous sausage stands in as their processed-meat-in-a-tube of choice, also served with BBQ sauce and honey mustard. What about the Tostitos and salsa, guacamole, Doritos, hummus and pita? No way, paprika-flavored chips all the way, since that’s what they do in America, right?
Another friend, who is actually German and has lived in Switzerland for many years, and who is generally amazingly familiar with American culture and turns of phrase, as she comes into contact with a lot of foreigners, made me laugh the other day. I was eating a granola bar, and she asked me, “What do you call those in America?” I told her we called them granola bars. She expressed a lot of shock and surprise, saying, “Well, I had heard that they were called that, but I couldn’t believe that anyone would call them that.” What, then, are they supposed to be called? I awaited her response, anticipating something so logical that “granola bar” would be strange in comparison. “We call them Farmers.” Uh, and that makes more sense than granola bar?? (Farmer is a generic brand of granola bar here, in case you were wondering where that came from.)
Anyways, here are two related things that have baffled me since I got here. The Swiss have several different types of electrical and phone outlets still in use. So if you want to plug your microwave in or hook up your phone line, it isn’t a simple matter of just taking the microwave or phone and plugging it into the wall. You need to check and see what shape the outlet is, and then get the appropriate adapter for the outlet. It’s bad enough when you’re traveling and need to try to plug things in, but to have to deal with that in your own home?? The other thing that is sort of strange is that at any given outlet in the wall, it is quite likely that there will only be one socket. When is the last time that you only needed one socket at each outlet? How about never? My computer area alone requires nine, which entails plugging a power strip into the lone socket, and then another power strip into that one, in order to have enough outlets. I wonder if that’s why that fuse blows more often than any of the other ones in my apartment…
And finally, for all of the law dorks out there, the Swiss have a completely different approach to “fixtures” law. In the U.S., when you put in a fixture, it is, by definition, fixed, meaning that when you leave, your landlord can either get pissed at you for putting it in, or he can let it slide and keep it. Fixtures run with the property, as BarBri so earnestly told us. Not here. Fixtures run with the tenant, so that when a Swiss person moves out of his apartment, he will take all of his light fixtures with him, and install them in the next place. If fixtures aren’t fixed, who knows what else is no longer true here!!
Anyways, back to real life. Well, no, back to Swiss life... Non-Americans apparently have a very, let’s say, interesting view of American life. One person I know has what he calls “American parties” once in a while, where they entertain American-style. What is an American party, you ask? Well, in basic terms, it’s a cookout. OK, so I thought that was a good start. I should have left it at that. They don’t have ribs or steaks or chicken or hot dogs. (Seriously.) They serve burgers. (Makes sense.) But they eat them with BBQ sauce or honey mustard. (Huh?) They don’t put American cheese or Swiss cheese on their burgers, since they don’t exist here, and I didn’t want to know what cheese they use, instead, after finding out that Monterey Jack also doesn’t exist, and cheddar is something they have heard of but don’t eat. Instead of hot dogs, the ubiquitous sausage stands in as their processed-meat-in-a-tube of choice, also served with BBQ sauce and honey mustard. What about the Tostitos and salsa, guacamole, Doritos, hummus and pita? No way, paprika-flavored chips all the way, since that’s what they do in America, right?
Another friend, who is actually German and has lived in Switzerland for many years, and who is generally amazingly familiar with American culture and turns of phrase, as she comes into contact with a lot of foreigners, made me laugh the other day. I was eating a granola bar, and she asked me, “What do you call those in America?” I told her we called them granola bars. She expressed a lot of shock and surprise, saying, “Well, I had heard that they were called that, but I couldn’t believe that anyone would call them that.” What, then, are they supposed to be called? I awaited her response, anticipating something so logical that “granola bar” would be strange in comparison. “We call them Farmers.” Uh, and that makes more sense than granola bar?? (Farmer is a generic brand of granola bar here, in case you were wondering where that came from.)
Anyways, here are two related things that have baffled me since I got here. The Swiss have several different types of electrical and phone outlets still in use. So if you want to plug your microwave in or hook up your phone line, it isn’t a simple matter of just taking the microwave or phone and plugging it into the wall. You need to check and see what shape the outlet is, and then get the appropriate adapter for the outlet. It’s bad enough when you’re traveling and need to try to plug things in, but to have to deal with that in your own home?? The other thing that is sort of strange is that at any given outlet in the wall, it is quite likely that there will only be one socket. When is the last time that you only needed one socket at each outlet? How about never? My computer area alone requires nine, which entails plugging a power strip into the lone socket, and then another power strip into that one, in order to have enough outlets. I wonder if that’s why that fuse blows more often than any of the other ones in my apartment…
And finally, for all of the law dorks out there, the Swiss have a completely different approach to “fixtures” law. In the U.S., when you put in a fixture, it is, by definition, fixed, meaning that when you leave, your landlord can either get pissed at you for putting it in, or he can let it slide and keep it. Fixtures run with the property, as BarBri so earnestly told us. Not here. Fixtures run with the tenant, so that when a Swiss person moves out of his apartment, he will take all of his light fixtures with him, and install them in the next place. If fixtures aren’t fixed, who knows what else is no longer true here!!
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