life: in progress

As usual, life is moving way too fast for me to experience, process, document, and record on this handy web log in a timely fashion.  So let me take a few minutes to catch up on some things that I haven't had a chance to write about yet (before I jump into my time in Morocco, which is really what is mostly on my mind).  I went to a yoga class.  Casual, right?  Except it was in a family friend's home studio, and ALL IN FRENCH.  Not so casual anymore.  I'm not exactly a yoga guru, but I love it, and I figured I could keep up by following the instructors so I was thrilled to go.  When I arrived, they greeted me with a smile, told me to take off my shoes, and handed me a mat.  The class began, and the very first thing the instructors (a husband and wife couple, by the way) said was close your eyes.  Well, there goes my last resort.  Either I learn French really quickly, or I look like a fool.  Not that that leaves me much of a choic...

The house.  It's pink with green shutters. Facing North-West The Jura mountains.  The Jurassic period in geology was named for the formation of these mountains, and I would argue that they are one of the Jurassic period's more impressive accomplishments.     Facing South  The French Alps on the other side of lake Geneva.  The highest (and brightest) peak in the background is Mont-Blanc.  The vineyards are a nice touch, yes? (unknown leafy greens) apple orchards Is the mud here prettier too, or is it just me?

I don't really think I have an "adventurous soul."  I tagged that on to the name of this blog before I left for Switzerland because I wanted to be trendy and hipstery...who was I kidding.  But I just read it at the top of this blog and I don't think it's true.  In fact, I think I have more of an "I like to stay at home where I'm comfortable and can wear sweat pants" kind of soul.  So I've been thinking of new tag-lines. Journeys and Destinations:          "struggles of the comfortable soul to get out of the house"          "when being in my comfort zone beats being outside of it"          "only for the sake of reaching the destination"          "and a suitcase full of potential problems to worry about" I'm probably exaggerating a little, because I don't hate adventure.  Sometimes I enjoy it....

I went to bed last night smelling the most delicious, sweet aroma...actually it was kind of embarrassing because I was pretty much drooling alone in my room thinking about whatever it was that Vita was baking.  When I asked her she said "des biscuits" and said "Oh oui, c'est bon"  like the majority of our interactions involving food go, but not knowing what "des biscuits" were exactly. This story has such a happy ending.  Fast forward through a full night of sleep and waking up to a rainy, gray morning, my only plans for the day being an advising session and to write a paper on women immigrants, not the most uplifting topic for a rainy day.  Then I sat down for breakfast.  Violins started playing, a chorus of hallelujahs commenced, the sun broke through the clouds, my paper wrote itself, and all the people in Switzerland applauded for the miracle that I was about to experience. I present to you....des biscuits! Then the word I was waiting for...

Is that the name of a movie?  Oh no, it's just my life right now. Every time I step outside, and when I'm inside, for that matter, I just can't even believe where I am and what I'm doing right now.  I feel so incredibly privileged to be able to spend a semester abroad, let alone in Switzerland, let alone with the kindest, most welcoming, and most fun family in Europe, that I sometimes can't even believe it.  But that's how I feel about my host family. They have welcomed me in so kindly to their home and gone way beyond what I would have expected.  They are a couple with three grown sons and three little grandsons, two of whom I've met and the other I met on skype.  They are Sicilian/Italian/Swiss and married/dating Polish so when everyone is over it is a jumble of languages and noise and it always amazes me that somehow we manage to communicate.  Their sons speak English (as well as a few other languages, such is life here), but during the week I can onl...

Five days in and I'm beginning (barely) to feel like I have an idea of what it will be like to live here for the next three months. We spent our first three nights staying in Geneva, and here are a few things worth mentioning: -->It's true what they say.  Wine is in fact much cheaper than water in this fine city. -->The food is superb.  Fresh, local, whole.   -->Everyone (and I really do mean everyone) is multi-lingual, and being surrounded by it is the coolest thing. -->It is possible that, if you go to Mr. Pickwick pub on a Thursday night, you can witness the extraordinary.  Two grown women singing Shania Twain karaoke to an almost empty room.  But really, that don't impress me much.  -->Germans are splendid tour guides, but they don't like to wait around for taking pictures!  However, I did get the chance to capture these snapshots from the city:        Martin Luther goes green   ...

I wouldn't be nearly as nervous about the fact that I'm spending the next 15 weeks in Geneva, Switzerland, except that I only have one pair of black tights, and they have a hole in them.  I first saw the hole in November, and love them so much that I couldn't bear to replace them.  It's been three months now and they have been holding out like champs.  So many times I turned down buying a new pair; I had so much confidence in them!  But now that I'm in the airport, suitcase already en route to Europe, I'm having my doubts.  Oh well.  I guess this is my first lesson in trust.  The truth is, some things just have to be left up to fate.   My latest adventure (read: expensive endeavor) is going to be touring the Swiss countryside, skiing the Alps, and sampling every kind of chocolate, cheese, and wine I can afford.  In the off chance that I get tired of chocolate or skiing, I also registered for 16 college credits to occupy my time, studying g...