Normal takes a Week

Chateau Chillon from the boat.

We reconnected with Edith Schaeffer on Sunday after church (pictured here with her aid, Carolyn Dahl) at the International Evangelical Church of Lausanne. Mrs. S turns 93 this November and we plan on spending regular time with her over the course of the year. This restaurant is in Lutry, one of many towns lining the shore with vineyards sloping down on one side, and the lake on the other. A local favorite is filet de perche - a dish of teeny weeny little fish caught from the lake, served fried with crispy fries, a common side accompanying just about anything it seems.

This is the Bureau des Etrangers (Population Office) where we applied for a residence permit – can’t get a cell phone without it (post 9/11 policy) and Michael’s kindergarten registration is on hold, as well. The new digs retain some of the old office’s Stalin-esque look. Foreigners is a hot topic, as in our own country, but has a somewhat different feel, since the outsider presence here is Muslim, as opposed to Mexicans in the States, who share a cultural footing with the much of America via Roman Catholicism. Some estimate that 1/3 of Lausanne’s primary/secondary student population is foreign, thus exacerbating local relations and helping fuel a vocal right-wing opposition. In contrast with these newer immigrants, affluent Europe is nearly childless, as well as lacking in religion - an anomaly in American society except for the secular university, whose social profile it closely resembles.

In practical terms, well, this means ethnic food has come to Switzerland! I also notice that, in contrast to 25 years ago, hardly anyone stares at me, since being non-white is no longer exceptional.

Michael and I took on an early morning walk.


Perhaps Jack’s favorite toy. Seeing Michael and Jack sprawled out asleep in row 14 of a British Airways flight impressed me at how connected they are to air travel. Being adopted from China, and being our children besides, their early lives have been identified by cross-oceanic travel. I Love You Like Crazy Cakes, a popular book in the genre of adoption literature, features two-page spreads of airplanes and many children confuse childbirth with airplane rides; hospitals with airports.

A daily ritual has been patisserie runs, where Michael and I load up on croissant and other high-carb, high-fat, high-glucose delights to bring home for breakfast. One bakery is associated with a Parisian-based order of pastry chefs and, as a result, even the regular rolls lean towards the dessert category; ie the croissants have sugar crystals sprinkled on top.

The open air market in Vevey. Beautiful breads with a smoky, fired crust on the loaves.

We've been downing quite a few of these cheese pies, mostly for breakfast.
All in all, it’s interesting to be back in Europe for an extended time now, 20 or so years after the gourmet food revolution hit America. The jury is still out, but while good bread is more consistently available here, I am generally less wowed now than I was before, since quality food and drink is available back home. Remember when you couldn’t find a place to sit and have coffee in America? The main difference seems to be symbolic, ie what these little delectables connect with in terms of cultural style, rather than as consumables in and of themselves.

Although after living in SoCal for 3 years, I think cooking good food is often experienced more as a recreational activity, like other labor (exercise, etc) people are willing to engage in for self-enhancement, not preservation.

Tomorrow, back to Lausanne to get Michael registered in a kindergarten somewhere and buy a present - he got invited to a birthday party on Saturday!