A friend is staying with me for two weeks while she unwinds from med school, travels around Switzerland, and catches up on her paperbacks. Her family is from Kansas, and she's been living in New York for the past few years. We're definitely not in Kansas anymore, nor are we in New York.
First of all, there's (no) security. Switzerland is not part of the post-9/11 world. When I was telling my friend how to get into my apartment, I said that I'd leave spare keys for her with the jeweler downstairs, and that she could go ask for them there. They take a lunch break, so I told her that if they weren't there when she got in, she could just go to the candy store in the next building, tell them that she knows me, and leave her bags there while she wandered around town. There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then she said, "That's very sketchy," and after I thought about it, I suppose it is a bit sketchy.
That's just how things work here. You can leave your keys with the shop downstairs and ask a shopkeeper to watch your luggage, and you know that jeweler won't break in, and the candy man won't steal your bags, and they in turn trust that you won't break into their shops or leave bombs in your bags with them. I can't remember the last time I went somewhere and had my bag checked by a security guy. I think it may have been in the Vatican, but it's never happened to me here in Switzerland, outside of the airport.
Secondly, there's food. (I don't think I have enough space to address all of the funny things about food in this entry, let alone move onto other Swiss idiosyncrasies, but I'll start). The Swiss have strange ideas regarding what to eat and how much of it is appropriate. Fondue. My visitor is a friend from college, and back in the day, we used to have girls' nights, when eight or ten of us would gather in my room, eat a pot of cheese fondue, a pot of chocolate fondue, and a few bottles of wine, and then we would go to a play or stay in and play Taboo. Not your typical college Friday nights, but then again, we weren't your typical college students, for better or for worse. So I came here thinking that I was ready for fondue. I thought wrong. The fondue here is much stinkier, much richer, and much bigger than any fondue we ever had. The amount we would make for eight to ten people is a two-person serving here. And they don't even do chocolate fondue; I think they see it as an affront to both chocolate and to fondue to merge the two concepts.
Then there's sausage. There is a restaurant that serves traditional Swiss food, and they serve sausage by the meter. They recommend a meter of sausage for every four people. That's ten inches of sausage per person, in addition to the bread, salad, and potatoes that everyone eats. I suppose that's still reasonable for some people, but it still astonishes me that they actually have sausage by the meter. I picture it coiled up on a big spool next to the emergency fire hose. And maybe the Sausage Inspector comes every year to make sure their Emergency Sausage meets regulatory standards. The street vendors also sell sausages (without buns, and not by the meter) and kebabs, rather than hot dogs and gyros, but if you're sick of kebab and sausage, other menu staples are horse, deer, and rabbit (which is sometimes listed as the equivalent of "baby bunny wabbit"). Horse and venison are mostly served in the autumn, though, during hunting season, which makes sense for venison, but less so for horse.
For people with a sweet tooth, candy options are pretty much limited to chocolate and gummy candy. Gummy candy comes in all shapes and flavors: there are gummies that taste like Jägermeister, ginger, and chili peppers, and there are gummies shaped like naked couples having sex. And yes, you can buy them from the man who is watching your luggage.
First of all, there's (no) security. Switzerland is not part of the post-9/11 world. When I was telling my friend how to get into my apartment, I said that I'd leave spare keys for her with the jeweler downstairs, and that she could go ask for them there. They take a lunch break, so I told her that if they weren't there when she got in, she could just go to the candy store in the next building, tell them that she knows me, and leave her bags there while she wandered around town. There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then she said, "That's very sketchy," and after I thought about it, I suppose it is a bit sketchy.
That's just how things work here. You can leave your keys with the shop downstairs and ask a shopkeeper to watch your luggage, and you know that jeweler won't break in, and the candy man won't steal your bags, and they in turn trust that you won't break into their shops or leave bombs in your bags with them. I can't remember the last time I went somewhere and had my bag checked by a security guy. I think it may have been in the Vatican, but it's never happened to me here in Switzerland, outside of the airport.
Secondly, there's food. (I don't think I have enough space to address all of the funny things about food in this entry, let alone move onto other Swiss idiosyncrasies, but I'll start). The Swiss have strange ideas regarding what to eat and how much of it is appropriate. Fondue. My visitor is a friend from college, and back in the day, we used to have girls' nights, when eight or ten of us would gather in my room, eat a pot of cheese fondue, a pot of chocolate fondue, and a few bottles of wine, and then we would go to a play or stay in and play Taboo. Not your typical college Friday nights, but then again, we weren't your typical college students, for better or for worse. So I came here thinking that I was ready for fondue. I thought wrong. The fondue here is much stinkier, much richer, and much bigger than any fondue we ever had. The amount we would make for eight to ten people is a two-person serving here. And they don't even do chocolate fondue; I think they see it as an affront to both chocolate and to fondue to merge the two concepts.
Then there's sausage. There is a restaurant that serves traditional Swiss food, and they serve sausage by the meter. They recommend a meter of sausage for every four people. That's ten inches of sausage per person, in addition to the bread, salad, and potatoes that everyone eats. I suppose that's still reasonable for some people, but it still astonishes me that they actually have sausage by the meter. I picture it coiled up on a big spool next to the emergency fire hose. And maybe the Sausage Inspector comes every year to make sure their Emergency Sausage meets regulatory standards. The street vendors also sell sausages (without buns, and not by the meter) and kebabs, rather than hot dogs and gyros, but if you're sick of kebab and sausage, other menu staples are horse, deer, and rabbit (which is sometimes listed as the equivalent of "baby bunny wabbit"). Horse and venison are mostly served in the autumn, though, during hunting season, which makes sense for venison, but less so for horse.
For people with a sweet tooth, candy options are pretty much limited to chocolate and gummy candy. Gummy candy comes in all shapes and flavors: there are gummies that taste like Jägermeister, ginger, and chili peppers, and there are gummies shaped like naked couples having sex. And yes, you can buy them from the man who is watching your luggage.
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