I got sick just as my travel schedule picked up, and had my first experience going to the doctor’s office here. She listened to my lungs and ordered blood work and X-rays, which seemed a bit excessive, but I went along with it. At the end of the visit, she told me that I didn’t have TB or pneumonia, but that I did have bronchitis, and she wrote a few prescriptions, which required more explanation than I’m accustomed to. America is all about the magic pill: take two of these and call me in the morning. Here, I received three medications: one was a set of blue and white pills, marked with suns and moons, to be taken at different times of day; one was a box of tablets to be dropped into boiling water and inhaled under a tented towel; the third was a tube of large tablets to be dropped into cold water and drunk once they finished fizzing and dissolving. I got to keep my X-rays, instead of leaving them on file with the doctor. Just what I’ve been needing – pictures of my lungs!
As I’ve mentioned in the past, mobile phone culture revolves around text messages much more than actual conversations, due in most part to the fact that cell phone calls are prohibitively expensive. However, SMSes are not limited to personal messages, as the many SMS spams I receive can attest. Upon picking up a new network, your phone receives several SMSes welcoming you to the network, telling you how to call a cab or check the weather, or which operators speak your language. Your phone company sends you system-wide SMSes detailing promotions and changes in policy. Dating companies advertise their services.
Yesterday, I received an SMS from the city of Zurich, informing me that the city was providing free beer in a public square to celebrate the victory of the local soccer team, which was perhaps the only useful spam SMS I have ever received. (Can you imagine the mayhem that would ensue if New York told everyone to come to a party with free beer?) I arrived, had a few glasses of free wine to celebrate the victory of a team I don’t follow in a sport I don’t watch. The square was packed with Zurichers (Zurichans? Zurichfolk?) drunkenly and happily sharing this moment of glory, drinking their free alcohol, eating grilled sausages, and singing some team anthem that shares the melody I have always known as “Be Kind to Your Web-Footed Friends,” but is also known as “Stars and Stripes Forever.” The DJ played music for the crowd: “My Way,” “Forever Young” by Alphaville, “Song 2,” “Beautiful Day.” It was a fun impromptu party on the river, with scores of happy people shooting dangerous fireworks at will, and it was all thanks to an SMS about free beer.
I spent last weekend in Paris, catching up with friends from college and law school, and eating my way through the city. I didn’t hit any of the big tourist places, having done that on a past trip, although I did see the Eiffel Tower from a distance while walking from one place to the next, if you would really be upset if I didn’t see a single attraction. While there, I realized something that entertained me, really quite a small thing. In French, the word for “lawyer” is the same as the word for “avocado.” I went to law school for three years just to become a delicious, mushy, green fruit that is excellent on salads and in guacamole. There are worse vocations.
One of the best things about living here is that everything is so close. I have travelled to Vienna, Budapest, Paris, Barcelona, and Rome without ever flying for more than 2 hours. I can’t take a train for more than 3 hours without leaving the country. France and Spain become weekend destinations that are highly preferable to the places that were similarly accessible from New York. Instead of going to Pittsburgh, I could go to Florence. Instead of Newark, why not check out Berlin? Rather than going to Scranton, I can go to Seville. Not bad. The Swiss are used to this, and have difficulty imagining life any other way. A journey of 45 minutes is seen as one of epic proportions, and many will never travel to Zurich, the largest city in Switzerland, because it is two hours away. These warped concepts of distance are even more comical when they apply them elsewhere. One friend had to dissuade her sister from her initial plans for a one-week trip to the States. She was flying in to New York, and was hoping to rent a car for the week, during which time she would drive from city to city, exploring New York, Boston, D.C., San Francisco, and L.A. By car. In a week.
As I’ve mentioned in the past, mobile phone culture revolves around text messages much more than actual conversations, due in most part to the fact that cell phone calls are prohibitively expensive. However, SMSes are not limited to personal messages, as the many SMS spams I receive can attest. Upon picking up a new network, your phone receives several SMSes welcoming you to the network, telling you how to call a cab or check the weather, or which operators speak your language. Your phone company sends you system-wide SMSes detailing promotions and changes in policy. Dating companies advertise their services.
Yesterday, I received an SMS from the city of Zurich, informing me that the city was providing free beer in a public square to celebrate the victory of the local soccer team, which was perhaps the only useful spam SMS I have ever received. (Can you imagine the mayhem that would ensue if New York told everyone to come to a party with free beer?) I arrived, had a few glasses of free wine to celebrate the victory of a team I don’t follow in a sport I don’t watch. The square was packed with Zurichers (Zurichans? Zurichfolk?) drunkenly and happily sharing this moment of glory, drinking their free alcohol, eating grilled sausages, and singing some team anthem that shares the melody I have always known as “Be Kind to Your Web-Footed Friends,” but is also known as “Stars and Stripes Forever.” The DJ played music for the crowd: “My Way,” “Forever Young” by Alphaville, “Song 2,” “Beautiful Day.” It was a fun impromptu party on the river, with scores of happy people shooting dangerous fireworks at will, and it was all thanks to an SMS about free beer.
I spent last weekend in Paris, catching up with friends from college and law school, and eating my way through the city. I didn’t hit any of the big tourist places, having done that on a past trip, although I did see the Eiffel Tower from a distance while walking from one place to the next, if you would really be upset if I didn’t see a single attraction. While there, I realized something that entertained me, really quite a small thing. In French, the word for “lawyer” is the same as the word for “avocado.” I went to law school for three years just to become a delicious, mushy, green fruit that is excellent on salads and in guacamole. There are worse vocations.
One of the best things about living here is that everything is so close. I have travelled to Vienna, Budapest, Paris, Barcelona, and Rome without ever flying for more than 2 hours. I can’t take a train for more than 3 hours without leaving the country. France and Spain become weekend destinations that are highly preferable to the places that were similarly accessible from New York. Instead of going to Pittsburgh, I could go to Florence. Instead of Newark, why not check out Berlin? Rather than going to Scranton, I can go to Seville. Not bad. The Swiss are used to this, and have difficulty imagining life any other way. A journey of 45 minutes is seen as one of epic proportions, and many will never travel to Zurich, the largest city in Switzerland, because it is two hours away. These warped concepts of distance are even more comical when they apply them elsewhere. One friend had to dissuade her sister from her initial plans for a one-week trip to the States. She was flying in to New York, and was hoping to rent a car for the week, during which time she would drive from city to city, exploring New York, Boston, D.C., San Francisco, and L.A. By car. In a week.
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