District 7430 Youth Exchange - Rotex

Author, Bruce Cockburn once said,"When you know even for a moment That it's your time Then you can walk with the power Of a thousand generations." What a gift it is to be aware of time. Once you realize how fast it passes you value it as something precious, even sacred, but at the same time you come to see how fast it fleets and with every second you try to pack every experience into every minute of your day. People often can´t imagine being away from their homes or families for a month not to mention a year, but i think of all things an experience like this provides you with a personal strength, with an openess of the heart, and a clarity of mind that you can only find when you are out of your element.

Perhaps it is the time you have to really focus on people, how they react to life, to study and question everything you´ve ever learned and how you learned it. Unlike alot of students, i never had that moment of culture shock, but instead found a passion for experiencing what culture really is and an appreciation of the traditions i have come to know and love from my home and family. I never realized how unconsicous you could be of the moments that mean so much to you. I don´t think I´ve ever been more intriqued or more eager to learn. To learn about the world, about people, about everything this life has to offer.

When you take a moment to step away from your everyday routines and exam everything about yourself, about your life, and about who you are, the meaning of walking with the power of three generations should move and inspire your soul. To be so aware of who you are, what you want, where you want to go is a gift i hope everyone can feel at one point in their lives.

Four months, such a short amount of time, exchange has provided me with so much inspiration. It is an experience that is so difficult to describe, so personal, and so amazing. I have always been one to open her arms to change and that is a blessing im so glad to posess.At the end of this week I will be moving to my next host family. I love my first family and also love the second, and am very lucky that they are related so I will see both every week like before.

This week was so different for me,celebrating 4 months on the same day as Thanksgiving, which i found rather ironic because i couldnt be more thankful to be here. But outside of America, people dont celebrate Thanksgiving, so I decided to share this tradition with my family. On Sunday me and my Grandmother here put together an American-Brasilian dinner, which was quite a success. We made Green Bean Cassarole, Potato Filling, Pumpkin Pie, and Turkey from me and some normal Brasilian cuisine from my Grandmother. Everyone really enjoyed the evening and were happy to finally understand this American Tradition.

This month I also got to experience my first wedding here. I have to say its quite a different party, and i loved every second of it. They don´t have alot of the traditions we use such as the father-daughter dance, of course the chicken dance and hokie-pokie, the bridesmaids and groomsman don´t stand with the couple at the altar, and there is no such thing as casually dressing, you wear very formal attire. It was a really fun evening and really got my sister excited about her wedding which will be in july.

School will end here in just a week or two and we have off until February. Everyone is busy preparing for Christmas. In the one mall we have a huge display equipt with fake snow,a sleigh, and reindeer, which really made me miss home. But, I´m still having an amazing time here and continue to enjoy your emails and comments.

I was so excited this month to recieve my favorite foods from my mom, especially on Halloween because we dont celebrate that either here.

Next week I will be traveling to another city called Natal for rotary so all of us are anxiously awaiting to see the other exchanges. And soon after i return its just a few days from Christmas (my favorite holiday) and then my birthday. I hope everyone had a great vacation/ Thanksgiving break and are preparing for Christmas. I think of you all always, but especially at this time. Let me know how you are.

Dear sweet good heavens above. It's been a long time, hasn't it? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you all, but I have not been kidnapped by the mafia, or mauled viciously by a polar bear. I am still alive and well and un-mauled. Just...er...not writing.
I really am sorry for not writing so long--it's just that my brain runs on half Russian and half English, so to get everything clicking 100% in English is kind of a pain. Plus, my Russian skills plummet for the next half hour or so while I reacclimate to the frigid world of Russian consonants. Ah, Russian consonants...but I digress. I actually had specific things to tell you!
A world, a WORLD I tell you, of adventures have happened since I last wrote you, oh audience mine. The alcohol-soaked parties I avoided! The Pumpkin That Time Forgot! The Presentation That Will Not Die! Host Family Adventures! All is well this side of the globe. The weather has warmed up, to everyone's delight, to a bizarre and toasty -10 degrees Celsius (this actually is toasty. We're breaking out the t-shirts.) My Russian skills are getting better, and I've seriously hit the grammar books again, so I'm whipping out superlative adjectives left and right, comparatives, adverbial phrases--everything to warm a grammar-maven's cold, cold heart. But as usual. I digress. Allow the story-telling to procede.
The Presentation That Will Not Die.
Every student is required to make a presentation to their hosting rotary club. This presentation is usually about themselves, their homes, their lives in their host countries, their lives in their country of birth, yada yada yada. I have the horribly bad luck to have entered the country after Eddie. Eddie is the Australian living in Barnaul. During his presentation, he danced. He sang. He had pictures and flashing lights. He raised money. Eddie is legend in Barnaul. I do not dance. I do not sing. I have no pictures.
So anyway, what with one thing and another, I still haven't done my ACTUAL presentation for my rotary club. I did a presentation in school (for, like, three classes in a row.) I've talked to English classes, journalism classes, society classes. I gave a (very) brief presentation in Tomsk for the Tomsk Rotary Club. I gave a presentation (which was a nightmare) for the OTHER Rotary club in Barnaul. And now I have to do it for my club.
Plus, due to legalities (you can't do your presentation for someone else's club before you do it for your own) the other rotary club has decided I get to do ANOTHER presentation for them. This presentation just will not die. It's like a terrible horror movie.
The Pumpkin That Time Forgot
So. In a fit of holiday warmth and friendliness, I decided to bake a pumpkin pie. Oh, naive, naive, American (who doesn't know how to make umlauts and therefore cannot actually speak "naive" correctly...). The Russian for that is "byedni ribyonak!" (poor child!) I hear this phrase a lot, and therefore learned it very quickly. What I did not consider was that, a.) in America, we use canned pumpkin and usually, frozen crusts. b.) In Russia, there are neither canned pumpkin nor frozen crusts. c.) Heavy Whipping Cream and brown sugar are surprisingly difficult to translate, but even more difficult to find. I have no engaged in a struggle to the death with the supermarkets of Russia, whose employees sturdily refuse to admit they can understand my Russian. I KNOW THEY UNDERSTAND ME. They just don't know it yet.
The one difficult ingredient I have succeeded in finding was the pumpkin, ironically enough. The pumpkin was a gift from the secretary of our rotary club, who gave it to me at one of our rotary meetings. I got some rather strange looks. That pumpkin is currently deep-frozen in the car's trunk. It's Russia. Who needs refrigerators? That thing is preserved for time everlasting.
Host Family Adventures!
So. I've been in the process of switching ye olde hoste familie for about er...a few weeks...or so now. Well, I mean, the process got running about a week and a half ago, but it's late by a few weeks, so I've been worrying about it. Worry counts as part of the process, right? Well, anyway. The rotary club decided I go to one family...thought about it...thought about it...didn't answer cell phones...and then, decided on another family. I have no idea what's happening. Or who. But I do know that this Sunday night, I am sitting down to dinner with Host Families Past and Future, and then leaving in a car for a new future. I feel like Ebenezer Scrooge, with his Christmas spirits past and future and all that. It's all good.
And--word has it I'm heading to Tomsk for New Years! Par-tay! (I really, really, really, hope I don't end up with anyone who goes clubbing for New Years. If anyone, and I mean anyone, tries to take me to a club for New Years....grrr....) So I'm voting Novokusnyetsk. But all is unknown. The future is ahead. The past is behind. More perfectly obvious stereotypical phrases to come.

Quote for the Day:
"This language is kicking my ass." --The Spirit of Exchange Students Trapped in Russia. Excuse my French, please. People who actually speak French...sorry.

I just wanted to drop you a quick note about something exciting that happened today: our winter concert. As I may have told you, I have had the opportunity to play bass with a conservatory orchestra here.

They even give me practice time at the conservatory and let me use one of their instruments! It is SO much fun, and thankfully I am not forgetting all the bass skillz (<=legitimate spelling) I once had.

Today, we had our winter concert. Parkland orchestra will be sad to hear there was no Hallelujah chorus (or happy I guess, depending).

The actual concert was preceded by a "cursillo", which is basically three days of intensive training. We got to spend all three days practicing with an instructor brought in (from Italy. it was wicked understanding her accent) especially for strings. The wind and brass had other teachers, and then we got together for rehearsal each afternoon. As you can see, this was a lot of time invested. I'm pretty sure the coffee machine in the conservatory lobby is the only way anyone got through it, especially since half the first violin section went to an Oreja de Van Gohe concert on saturday night.

Anyway, after the three days of practice (cramming) we had our concert. The full orchestra played:

Nicoli Rimsky-Korsakov's Dance of the Tumblers from Snowmaiden and Borodin's In the Steppes of South East Asia

The smaller brass group played two pieces before hand. The funny thing? One was by Aaron Copeland.

We played in a church with wonderful acoustics, and it went surprisingly well. The students here are much more serious about music in than we are in the US. They also study theory and music history, and it is obligatory for string players to also take at least a few years of piano lessons. I am not enrolled in any classes at the conservatory, but I think the director is pretty happy that I'm there because they don't have any other bass players at the moment.

So basically I got lucky with the music situation over here, and I had a wonderful winter concert. I hope those of you who are playing a concert this winter also have a wonderful time, and I hope those of you who aren't playing get the opportunity to watch a concert. And when you're done, drop me an email about it!

Hello everyone!!! All the pictures are viewable bigger and better at swisslifeblog.blogspot.com. You all can also scroll back a bit and read about my adventures with Bertolt Brecht and his Commie plays, all of which i have enjoyed.

As of next wednesday, my year here in switzerland is officially a third over. This however does not mean that I have switched host families, quite the opposite in fact, my host family is trying to keep me. My counsellor asked me what in the world I did, and I shrugged. I suppose it is just because I am far too sweet and wellbehaved.

I am currently in the process of picking return dates. There are really only 3 in question. The third and fourth of August. or the 23rd of July. The 23rd of July is the last date that the travel agency advises that I come back. The 3rd or 4th are of my own invention. August 1st is the National Holiday in Switzerland, when Kanton Schwyz, Uri, and uh, another that I haven't visited (I just checked on wikipedia, the third is Unterwalden) , joined together, followed in the years after by the other Kantons in order to rebell against the Hapsburgs Dynasty in 1291. Apparently this is call for a big party, and seeing the pictures in the newspaper when I first came, I think I will be going. If I leave on the 4th, that would mean that I spent 363 days in Switzerland, a nice round number I find.

Actually I found out yesterday with the help of a map in the telephone book that I have seen most of Switzerland. It is, afterall, about half the size of Pennsylvania. I only really need to go to Graubunden, Ticino, and Genf (Geneva to the rest of the world, but in german, it is Genf). I need to beg nicely to visit Germany sometime during a vacation. I am not allowed to stay in hotels or youth hostels, which makes travelling slightly harder, because I have to find someone to stay with.

I understand swiss german, an amazingly cool feat, now all that is left is to speak it. My friends find it weird when I randomly insert Swiss words into High German, like yesterday, Jasmin asked me why I suddenly had two bottles, and I said I had bought a coke, but I said cokie (coke-ee) and not Cola. If you want to say it was very funny in swiss german, you have to say "esch mega lustig gsii" which bears only slight resemblence to the High German "Es ist sehr lustig gewesen." Swiss German is amazing, it completely facinates me. I also have no idea why Germans have a hard time understanding it, it seems to me once you know High German, you should be able to understand most of the swiss dialects. If you can find a Song on limewire called "Grüezi Wohl, Frau Stirnimaa!" you should download it. My favorite song in Swiss German.

Christmas shopping started here in the end of October. Imagine that. I was christmased out before Thanksgiving, a new world record. Though I did cook on Thanksgiving. chicken, which was terrible, and filling, that wasn't exactly like my grammy's. I realized that nothing sets off all the bells and whistles for my christmas spirit quite like Black Friday. Lacking a proper mall, Best Buy, and fellow rabid shoppers, I am currently devoid of any idea that Christmas is in fact approaching.

Last Saturday I went to Endingen to see Zoe's Turnabend. Apparently it is a really swiss-village pastime. Once a year all the amatuer gymnastics clubs get together on stage and preform little acts to music with some nice banter and jokes in between. I thought it was very cool. Or "Mega Geil" as I told Zoe.

Then on Monday the Rotary had a Metgezte, which is the lovely party that happened in the past when someone killed an animal. They make Bloodsausage and Liverwurst, which need to be eaten right away, otherwise they spoil. Bloodsausage is, i find, inedible. Liverwurst I ate, but did not enjoy. Rather Kalbsbratwurst.

Onto other news from Switzerland. There's been a big Hubbub in the last week or two over a
story from Zurich. Apparently a 13 year old was raped by 15 boys from her school, in different locations and times. This initially caused a huge thing about media and the decline of society usw. As well as distrust in foreigners (9 of the boys were from former Ostblok countries... The rest were swiss) The newspaper articles seemed to speculate that swiss kids wouldn't do such a thing without the influence of these bad foreign kids. Then it was found out that this girl had willingly had sex with a few of them, altough no one seems to know now what really happened. It sparked a really intresting article in the magazine FACTS where they talked with 6 teenagers about violence, media, sex, etc. The general consensus seemed to be that the violence isn't a problem caused by foreigners, but instead boredom, but from all the foreigners, Albanians are the worst when it comes to violence.

That being said, despite Switzerland having the lowest opinion of American politics in the whole of Europe, I have never been treated poorly. The most direct question I have been asked is "What do you think of Bush?" and been told that we were stupid to elect him twice. I do get wide eyed looks when I claim to be a Republican. It is weird to live in a country that is more or less socialist. Or well, hanging around in the fog between socialism and capitalism.

But onto the intresting bits, the pictures.

Me, obvoiusly, in Widen Dorf (pop, 3000), taking a picture with all the pretty trees.

This is a picture of the most beautiful sunset I have seen in a while, taken from a bus. What causes beautiful sunsets? That's right! Pollution, more specifically soot, ash, and dust, most likely all in France, because I have yet to see more than a cigarette on the ground.

This is what is called a Nebelsee here. The valley below is filled with fog, but Widen is just above the fog boundry. Then you get this lovely twotierd effect. As a side note, every morning in fall is foggy. Like soup. Until about 10 am when it starts to lift on most days, then it gets foggy again as soon as it gets dark.

I just got my Christmas Box from HOME!!!!! Oh the excitement. Really, new videogames (at least that is what I asked for)! Videogames here are about twice as expensive and don't come out until 6 months later. The videogame magazine I get in America costs a whopping 19 CHF.

Russians are just made of different stuff. Like cryptonite. Or tupperware. I'm quite convinced of this, and it's not just me blathering. Well. Maybe I am blathering, but I'm also right.
Piece of Evidence #1: Russian girls.
Russian girls wear heels. So? you say skeptically. Lots of people wear heels in the US. Yes, I reply patiently. But they are not four inch heels which are worn for long walks in the city, picnics in the countryside and walks on the river bank alike. They are not Russian heels. Russian heels, and Russian clothes, go out of their way to thumb their respective noses at comfort and usefulness. I have heard that in -40 degree weather (it's the same in Celsius and Fahrenheit) the girls still go around in short skirts and stockings. Wha...?! Crazy.
[just as a quick side comment, the word "crazy," oddly enough, is known in English by all Russians. About eighty percent of the people I've met here were either introduced as "she's crazy" or eventually described so by their friends.)
Piece of Evidence #2: My Weekend.
Sooooo. First of all, a note on my host parents. My host parents are awesome. They are host-parents of the highest quality. They are kind, considerate, caring, and always challenge me to make my own decisions and work hard. They are tupper-ware host parents: they're flexible, durable, and keep you feeling fresh and non-freezer burned. Churchill said that Russia was a question in an mystery in an enigma. I disagree. Russia is extremely easy to understand if you think of it as a gigantic freezer. But yes, so, I was saying. My tupper-ware host parents. They are amazing. But they also have this very Russian quality of "spontaneity."
What this means, is that they decide to go to Novosibirsk for a few days. I realize this on the way out the door the morning they leave--only because I see their suitcase waiting to be put in the car. So I trot back upstairs, quietly pack a bag for the weekend, and come trotting downstairs (I'll be staying with my grandparents.)
So, the tupperwares and I decided to go to Tomsk for various reasons (and for one night), hopped into the car, and were off for the eight hour drive to Tomsk. Eight hours later (around 10:30 at night) we arrive in Tomsk. Thank heavens. Finally. I can crash. But no. I can't. We happily call up the girl we were meeting inTomsk (it's a long story--if you want it, ask) met her in a cafe (it was eleven by the time we found it) and chatted for around half an hour before driving her home. Sweet clouds of heavenly glory. Why me?
So, eleven thirty and we're hunting for the apartment of the people we'll be staying with overnight. I knew where it was, and pointed us down the right streets, thinking--FINALLY. SLEEP. So we go in, get the usually flurry of Russian love and hospitality, start chatting--and are offered dinner. So we have dinner. And then sit around the table drinking and talking until two o' clock in the morning. Tupperware. I'm telling you.
(Another quick sidetrack on the subejct of long meals...the next morning, I naturally woke up at nine. This is bizarrely early, at least for the Russians I know. So only the mother of the household was up. She made me breakfast, and I sat around chatting and drinking coffee until my host mother got up. Post shower and all, the host parents sat down to breakfast around 10:30. I sat with them while they ate, and then the father of the household came back from running errands around eleven. We all sat with him, continuuing our breakfasts, until around 12, when the daughter of the household got up. She joined the breakfast throng, and, our number complete, we proceeded to draw out the meal until about 2 in the afternoon. I love Russia.)

I know that this is really weird and rambling, but I've gotta say--on the subject of tupperware. One thing I've come to realize, is that to live with tupperware, you have to be tupperware. This is actually fantastic, and I consider it as typifying part of the exchange experience. You are just always on your toes. Experience number one: I have about five minutes notice that I need to pack a bag for Novosibirsk. I pack a bag for the necessary overnight, and am out the door. But the host parents stay away two days. It seriously does not occur to Russians that having to wear the same clothes two days in a row could be a problem to someone.
Experience number two: So. Next time the fam is off to Novosibirsk, I wisely pack an extra-complete bag, with all the proper things and necessaries for an extended stay, and leave it where I leave it every time to get whisked away to wait for me at the grandparent's house. But it was forgotten. Hm. So I arrived at my grandparents with my textbooks and the clothes I was wearing. Being an exchange student requires superpowers. And considerable foresight. Not that I have either, but I'm working on it.