Sunday night. My living room. I was watching the first season of Alias on DVD (thank you, Thai shopkeeper) and the main character had to go to Geneva. The word "Geneva" popped up to let us know that the next scene would take place in Geneva. The scene opened with a shot of... Zurich. My neighborhood, no less.
So yes, I'm back in Zurich, and not just for the workweek. For the first time since March, I spent the weekend in Zurich, and it felt like being in a new and foreign place, partly because it had been so long since I spent a weekend here, and partly because Zurich is a different city in the summer than it is in the winter. For all two weeks of summer, people wear sunglasses, smile in public, and do things outside. On Thursday, I had about fifteen people over to have drinks on my terrace, on Friday, my friend organized an after-work cookout, and I brought my portable grill to the lake, and on Saturday, I went shopping and an expat arranged a pub crawl, so we did more in-city socializing in one weekend than we had in the previous month. When the next 13-month winter comes, the entire city will disappear behind frowns, scarves, and doors again, but for now, we have summer, and the city is alive.
Complete change of topic. I discovered last year that public passive farting (dropping anonymous, toxic farts in crowded, public places, such as at the symphony or on the train) is OK. I've recently encountered another phenomenon: elevator departure farts. Several times in the last week, I've walked into an empty elevator that, based on the smell, had just been vacated, probably by someone who ate too much cabbage. Is that really the nice thing to do, booby-trapping an elevator??
I suppose I shouldn't be terribly surprised. A few months ago, I went out for ice cream with some friends, and because it was cold outside, the customers all stayed inside the crowded shop to eat their ice cream. A guy, maybe twenty years old, was standing with his back to the corner, facing the entire room, and he was slowly and purposefully picking his nose. He did so repeatedly every few minutes, and after each successful endeavor, he popped his finger into his mouth. I have never seen such a thorough public nose-picking (and booger-eating) done by a person capable of speaking in full sentences.
I thought it was an aberration, but less than a week later, I was having dinner at a nice Italian restaurant near my apartment. As I was conversing with my dinner partner, my thoughts vanished and my voice trailed off as I watched a woman at an adjacent table. She was well dressed, perhaps forty years old, and having a conversation with her dinner partner while they waited for their food. In mid-sentence, without pausing, she deliberately reached up and picked her nose, all the while maintaining eye contact with her friend. This wasn't a subtle napkin wipe or nose rub, it was a deep insertion of her index finger into her nostril with a twist and scrape, a full-on excavation. At the dinner table. In a restaurant. With her friend looking directly at her.
Those incidents put me on the alert, and in the ensuing months, I concluded that public nose-picking is common, and apparently is not socially unacceptable. So it's OK pick your nose and fart at will, as it's not shocking in the least. But try not to jaywalk or do laundry on Sundays. We foreigners have such appalling habits.
A friend is coming in this weekend, and another friend's coming next weekend, so I'll be sticking around Switzerland, looking for more public nose-pickings. My dog is turning 6 (42, if you prefer dog years). He's very happy these days, as he loves warm weather, and has a new girlfriend (my boss's puppy). Yes, it's a bit of a Lolita situation.
So yes, I'm back in Zurich, and not just for the workweek. For the first time since March, I spent the weekend in Zurich, and it felt like being in a new and foreign place, partly because it had been so long since I spent a weekend here, and partly because Zurich is a different city in the summer than it is in the winter. For all two weeks of summer, people wear sunglasses, smile in public, and do things outside. On Thursday, I had about fifteen people over to have drinks on my terrace, on Friday, my friend organized an after-work cookout, and I brought my portable grill to the lake, and on Saturday, I went shopping and an expat arranged a pub crawl, so we did more in-city socializing in one weekend than we had in the previous month. When the next 13-month winter comes, the entire city will disappear behind frowns, scarves, and doors again, but for now, we have summer, and the city is alive.
Complete change of topic. I discovered last year that public passive farting (dropping anonymous, toxic farts in crowded, public places, such as at the symphony or on the train) is OK. I've recently encountered another phenomenon: elevator departure farts. Several times in the last week, I've walked into an empty elevator that, based on the smell, had just been vacated, probably by someone who ate too much cabbage. Is that really the nice thing to do, booby-trapping an elevator??
I suppose I shouldn't be terribly surprised. A few months ago, I went out for ice cream with some friends, and because it was cold outside, the customers all stayed inside the crowded shop to eat their ice cream. A guy, maybe twenty years old, was standing with his back to the corner, facing the entire room, and he was slowly and purposefully picking his nose. He did so repeatedly every few minutes, and after each successful endeavor, he popped his finger into his mouth. I have never seen such a thorough public nose-picking (and booger-eating) done by a person capable of speaking in full sentences.
I thought it was an aberration, but less than a week later, I was having dinner at a nice Italian restaurant near my apartment. As I was conversing with my dinner partner, my thoughts vanished and my voice trailed off as I watched a woman at an adjacent table. She was well dressed, perhaps forty years old, and having a conversation with her dinner partner while they waited for their food. In mid-sentence, without pausing, she deliberately reached up and picked her nose, all the while maintaining eye contact with her friend. This wasn't a subtle napkin wipe or nose rub, it was a deep insertion of her index finger into her nostril with a twist and scrape, a full-on excavation. At the dinner table. In a restaurant. With her friend looking directly at her.
Those incidents put me on the alert, and in the ensuing months, I concluded that public nose-picking is common, and apparently is not socially unacceptable. So it's OK pick your nose and fart at will, as it's not shocking in the least. But try not to jaywalk or do laundry on Sundays. We foreigners have such appalling habits.
A friend is coming in this weekend, and another friend's coming next weekend, so I'll be sticking around Switzerland, looking for more public nose-pickings. My dog is turning 6 (42, if you prefer dog years). He's very happy these days, as he loves warm weather, and has a new girlfriend (my boss's puppy). Yes, it's a bit of a Lolita situation.
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