Last week I had a moment of claustrophobia when I thought I would have to stay in Switzerland for three weeks in a row. I ran out of pages in my passport, and had to send the passport to the American embassy in Bern to have extra visa pages added. When I called the embassy to ask how long it would take, the woman was noncommittal and wouldn’t give me an estimate. When pressed, she said that it probably wouldn’t take more than three weeks, but no guarantees. I asked her how long it’s been taking recently, and she hazarded a guess of a week and a half. So I figured that would keep me in town this past weekend and this coming weekend, and Halloween weekend, I have to be in town to sing with my choir. But I kept my chin up in the face of "adversity." I mailed my passport Thursday, so it arrived at the embassy Friday, since mail takes only one day within Switzerland. I got it back Saturday, meaning that the woman who so stubbornly insisted that she couldn’t commit to taping the pages in within three weeks sent it out the same day that she got it! Which means I am free to roam this coming weekend, if an opportunity should present itself…
It may be a good idea for me to leave town this weekend, as I am still fuming from yet another Chink Incident. Walking home from a night out this past Friday, I passed three Swiss guys in the street. Out of nowhere, one of them said, “Ching chong chung.” While I normally either ignore such comments or laugh them off as a sign of pathetic ignorance, I have had a few too many Chink Incidents lately to shrug them off as easily, and I had had a few drinks that night, making me less patient than my already impatient self. So I replied with an automatic, New York-style “Muck shoe.” Or something sounding vaguely similar to that. It’s good to know my urban misanthropic self is still in there, ready to strike back. I now know what Fiver thinks whenever people look at him and bark; he must be thinking, “You have no idea how ridiculous you sound, you ignorant prat, do you really think that’s what dogs sound like??” It’s disturbing how widespread and accepted such behavior is here. In a country where it’s considered rude not to say hello to the cashier or to only make cursory eye contact when making a toast, it is perfectly OK to make grade-school racial slurs in the street.
Another thing that is perfectly normal and widely accepted is body odor. Yes, it is a stereotype that Europeans don’t bathe or wear deodorant, but in many cases, based on the smells you encounter in public, it is not unfounded. Summertime is an especially, er, fragrant time. There is no air conditioning, so people sweat freely all day and all night, and they also have a tendency to wear the same clothes for several days in a row, which compounds the problem. I have no idea how often they shower or wash their hair, or how much deodorant they wear, but I do know that even if you shower every day, if you wear the same clothes for three days in a row, and sweat into them for three days in a row in un-air conditioned homes, trams, and offices, people will definitely know you’re there without even seeing you first.
My friend and I are thinking about getting an apartment together. If we pooled our resources, we could get a brand-new 3-bedroom loft, a 4-bedroom apartment with two terraces, or a 4-bedroom house, and we would still be saving money. Some confusion arises, however, when trying to figure out what should look for. The Swiss, when tallying up living spaces, count bedrooms, living rooms, and kitchens as rooms, but not bathrooms, and if the kitchen or eating area is especially big, they tack on another ½-room. What Americans would call a one-bedroom is usually called a 2.5-room apartment here. The 4-bedroom house? It’s got 7 rooms. Not an exact science, so if you’re looking for a certain number of bedrooms, you add anywhere from one to three extra rooms to figure out what you’re looking for. Watch this space to see if there are further developments. If not, it’s because we’re lazy, and can’t count…
It may be a good idea for me to leave town this weekend, as I am still fuming from yet another Chink Incident. Walking home from a night out this past Friday, I passed three Swiss guys in the street. Out of nowhere, one of them said, “Ching chong chung.” While I normally either ignore such comments or laugh them off as a sign of pathetic ignorance, I have had a few too many Chink Incidents lately to shrug them off as easily, and I had had a few drinks that night, making me less patient than my already impatient self. So I replied with an automatic, New York-style “Muck shoe.” Or something sounding vaguely similar to that. It’s good to know my urban misanthropic self is still in there, ready to strike back. I now know what Fiver thinks whenever people look at him and bark; he must be thinking, “You have no idea how ridiculous you sound, you ignorant prat, do you really think that’s what dogs sound like??” It’s disturbing how widespread and accepted such behavior is here. In a country where it’s considered rude not to say hello to the cashier or to only make cursory eye contact when making a toast, it is perfectly OK to make grade-school racial slurs in the street.
Another thing that is perfectly normal and widely accepted is body odor. Yes, it is a stereotype that Europeans don’t bathe or wear deodorant, but in many cases, based on the smells you encounter in public, it is not unfounded. Summertime is an especially, er, fragrant time. There is no air conditioning, so people sweat freely all day and all night, and they also have a tendency to wear the same clothes for several days in a row, which compounds the problem. I have no idea how often they shower or wash their hair, or how much deodorant they wear, but I do know that even if you shower every day, if you wear the same clothes for three days in a row, and sweat into them for three days in a row in un-air conditioned homes, trams, and offices, people will definitely know you’re there without even seeing you first.
My friend and I are thinking about getting an apartment together. If we pooled our resources, we could get a brand-new 3-bedroom loft, a 4-bedroom apartment with two terraces, or a 4-bedroom house, and we would still be saving money. Some confusion arises, however, when trying to figure out what should look for. The Swiss, when tallying up living spaces, count bedrooms, living rooms, and kitchens as rooms, but not bathrooms, and if the kitchen or eating area is especially big, they tack on another ½-room. What Americans would call a one-bedroom is usually called a 2.5-room apartment here. The 4-bedroom house? It’s got 7 rooms. Not an exact science, so if you’re looking for a certain number of bedrooms, you add anywhere from one to three extra rooms to figure out what you’re looking for. Watch this space to see if there are further developments. If not, it’s because we’re lazy, and can’t count…
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