The Adventures of Boohste: February 2008

We just got back from Geneva, Switzerland last night. The clear skies, snow-capped mountains, nice people, crystal-clear water, and abundance of chocolate are just a few of the things that make me happy inside.
When we arrived Friday morning (its only 3 1/2 hours from Paris) we walked along the lake front taking pictures of all the swans and the fountain. We continued up to the old part of the city and climbed up the towers of an old church to get a view over the city. We saw a mountain not too far away and decided to walk to the bottom because we saw a tram going up and down.... we didnt even make it a quarter of the way before we gave up. So we stopped at a cafe and rested, walked back into town and found a bar that was showing a fooball (not american of course) game. We were both exhausted after this because we were up at about 5:30am that morning to catch the train from Paris. We went to the hostel and accidentally passed out at about 8:30.
Saturday we decided we would take a trip up to a small town (St. Cergue) about an hour outside of Geneva. After checking to make sure the Modern Art Museum would be open on Sunday, we walked around a little to find Adam a sweatshirt (because it was supposed to be snowy in St. Cergue). We cut it a little to close and had to run for a good 10 minutes to the trian station to catch the trian to Nyon. From Nyon we caught a little tram that went up the mountain to St. Cergue. It was kind of a little ski town but not really convincing. The ski "hill" was quite small and closed because there wasn't enough snow. There were tons of people climbing it with snowshoes so we decided to do the same-- without snowshoes. We made it to the top, climbed through the woods a bit and practically slid the entire way down. We walked around the town a little and climbed some fences at an apartment complex to see the view from the other side... which was quite amazing. The apartment was incredibly odd-- the back side (looking out over lake Geneva and the Countryside) was run-down and abandoned. The empty pool made of crumbling concrete was overgrown and there was broken furniture and trash everywhere. The apartment was still occupied, though, since we were being watched the whole time by a resident. Again, our bad sense of timing caused us to have to run to catch the train back down to Nyon. Once back in Geneva we went about looking for a place full of bars, restaurants, and nightclubs. Every other city we've visited has had at lease a couple central locations to find all the young crowds at night-- but Geneva isn't like every other city. We couldn't find anything but a few scattered bars here and there. We finally wondered into a bar in the old town (close to the church we saw on Friday). The bartender was very nice and we ended up having about an hour and a half talk with her. She spoke French, Dutch, Italian, English, and a little German. Her father was an Italian Diplomat so moved all over the world as a girl. Shes lived all over the place, notably New York when the World Trade Center was hit. Her apartment building looked out onto the towers and collapsed the day after the towers fell. She was at school three blocks away and her mother was in the apartment when the towers were struck.... quite amazing.
Sunday was quite disappointing at the start. Very much like Paris, EVERYTHING was closed and we couldnt find much of anything to do. After going up to the United Nations HQ (which was closed) we went to the Museum of Contemporary and Modern Art where we saw pieces by Sol Lewitt, Carl Andre, Sherrie Levine, Donald Judd, Dan Flavin, and Vito Acconci to name a few. Since everything was closed we didnt really know what to do until our train left in 6 hours. We found a bus that would take us the the tram we were looking for on Friday. It was about a half hour by bus (meaning our efforts to walk there were completely in vein). Also, it was over the Swiss border which meant we were technically in France. We took the tram up and got the most amazing view over Geneva and the lake.... it was absolutely incredible. We hiked up only about 10 minutes and came to somewhat of a clearing toward the top. Because it was a crystal clear day, on the right we could see the Swiss Alps and on the left was Geneva. I felt very much like I was back in Alaska. This is when Adam and I considered not coming back to classes on Monday, but just staying in Switzerland and living in a ski town for a year. We began thinking practically and decided we needed to at least work a year after school to get some money, and learn a bit more French. After this, we're moving to a ski town and working nights in a bar for a year. Maybe we'll stay in the States, though, since Switzerland is quite expensive.
Back to the train station. Buy chocolate. 4 hour ride. Paris. Rain.

I dont know what happened.
Last night as I walked home from the metro station, I felt like I belonged here. This feeling has come over me a few times in my life, generally in the two places I have lived for the majority of the time-- Anchorage and Chicago-- but I didnt expect it here. It could have been a combination of things: doing laundry at a laundry-mat down the street, finding out what Parisians really do on a Sunday (absolutely nothing, in case you were wondering), and perhaps the simple fact that I was alone. If only for a moment I felt that this street, this alley, this garbage can, this lamp post, this sagging stone step, this door, this courtyard were all mine. I wasnt getting funny looks as I walked by my fellow Parisians. I wasnt so disturbed by all the feces on the street. I wasnt anxious as to whether I looked like I belonged here. I wasnt carrying the map that was my security blanket for the first few weeks.
Perhaps I've got it all wrong. Maybe I felt this way because the "magic" of Paris has finally worn off. I'm not as amazed as I was last week by the people, shops, cars, and buildings. Maybe feeling at home means I've forgotten where I am and focused on what I am doing and who I am with. Home doesnt have to be a place, it can be much more intangible than that. When I wake up in the morning I dont say to myslef, "Good morning, self, you are in Paris.", it goes more like this, "Good morning, self, you are at Home."