Universal Currency Converter | ||
| 2008.02.29 | ||
1.00 USD | = | 1.04 CHF |
| | | |
Michael applies the chocolate hearts.
Keith, Chris, and Tim in their party clothes.
The students were playing charades;
We bought Michael a scooter - a very popular item here - and he is learning, with Carolyn's encouragement. Jack coming up the rear! The Olympic Museum sits on a hill reached by a series of escalators: free ride up, then coast back down to the lake.
On the way home from church, we got caught in a train of cars celebrating Kosovo independence; flashing lights, honking horns, and waving flags. We thought the canton of Fribourg had won a sports match! Anyway, we were stuck, so I put on our flashers; Michael grabbed his Greek flag from the back, and began waving it out the window. Sorry, no picture. I was driving!
Warm sunshine came, as well, drawing families to the lake. Our gelato man set up his stand., and we dressed the boys in their Greek sailor shirts for a lakeside photo.
The owner painted Michael and Jack's names on their little boats.
They're simple; the labor goes into the painted cloth sails.
Here is his son, Alexander.
Greece's ancient legacy divides the national offerings starkly: monuments and rubble versus fun-in-the-sun. This past had a behemoth quality to it, reminding me of China. The wealth of the past didn't inform the present, unlike the way the Italian Renaissance - albeit more recent - seems to flood every nook and cranny of Florentine cuisine, design, fashion, car, gelato, etc with a sense of cultural style. In this way, very much like Hawaii, the tourism seemed locked-in; not generating industries that flow into or benefit the culture at large. Felt poor somehow. Happy, but poor.
Public behavior seemed really uptight, as though people had been severely shaped by rules-based discipline: guards at museums were unusually strict with slight deviation of movement; one taxi driver was hysterical about stopping to let us out for fear of blocking traffic (it wouldn't have). Forgive my stereotyping, but it seemed more Germanic or Swiss than Mediterranean? What's the story? Legacy of dictatarship? Our bad luck?
Hydra had the most charm of the Greek islands we visited, granted we never got past the tourist traps of the immediate port. We rode donkeys, ate ice cream & baklava, eyed unusual jewelry, bought junk...
but I did find some real markets with remarkable produce for this time of year. Oranges were plentiful, so we had some fresh squeezed juice. The tangerines were sold with leaves, like in Japan, and had a strong flavor. I gave Michael 10 euros to buy anything to bring home; he spent it on a Greek flag and a bag of olives.
BTW, 1/3 of the students got mysteriously ill, eventually hitting Michael, especially, who was miserable until the donkey ride. I have to recommend Greek pharmacies, which sold the cheapest over the counter drugs ever - a small consolation for feeling crummy.
Here are Jack and Robin, with our boat behind.
He later turned up at the final show dressed as a woman, lip-syncing to some hit, then returned as Mick Jagger, Elvis, etc. Interspersed with the commercial lowbrow schtick came Greek dance routines, a la My Big Fat Greek Wedding. One of the Japanese hostesses, whose job it was to get her countrymen far from home to loosen up, challenged opposite sides of the room in a "OOP-PAH" yelling contest, with only moderate success.
I certainly won't be forgetting her anytime soon. Nothing prepared me for what came next though: this couple's rendering of "Sukiyaki," the 1963 hit by Kyu Sakamoto; the only Japanese song to make it to #1 in America.
The clouds lent a dramatic backdrop for the architectural sites...
but I was drawn to the landscapes, especially given the gray winter of Switzerland.
Double-petal cherry blossoms at the top of the Mycenae? For one fleeting, bizarre moment, I thought I was in Japan.
Afterwards, we ate another one of those bust-your-gut meals at the Kolizeras tavern, a place with large autographed photos of prominent Americans: Bush Sr, Dukakis, Onassis, etc. Although far outnumbered by those of Italian descent, Greek-Americans seem to hold impressive leverage. My ignorance, but given the recent primaries, maybe Hillary should come sample the moussaka here, too. The pork was to die for!
Priceless legacy? Just another playground with neat rocks?
One thing I'm certain: food was consistently good, cheap, and plentiful. They have a way of infusing flavor into even really big, boiled potatoes. Cooked in bouillon and olive oil? Not sure, but large vege didn't automatically mean tasteless vege.
Our acerbic tour guide, Maria - armed with juicy factoids - was committed to restoring Greece's cultural pedestals, one ruin at a time, having been overshadowed by its Mediterranean neighbor, Italy. Did you know Italy purchases superior Greek olive oil, then markets it as Italian?
Name that ruin!
On the other hand, maybe we don't want to retrieve anything! We were tired. Ugh.
He was tired.
Then proceeded to entertain. Did this earn him kuddos at the orphanage?
You should've seen him coming through security at Narita; all smiley, in overalls bejeweled with buttons and clip-on toys, the Japanese agents burst into applause. I was thinking, "He's going to give Carolyn a run for her money."
Michael's first Valentine's Day card.
This lady has a set of seamstresses who custom-make jackets, scarves, you name it, out of the materials you choose.
More important, the VIVISHOP - hands down the best toy store in town, is next door...
with a view to boot.
It's all in the cathedral section of the old city, where we also stumbled across this cozy cafe. A thick brew of hot chocolate is handmixed cup by cup, then served in blue pottery mugs. Packages of the cocoa mix were for sale (above Michael's head), as well.
Back home, Auntie Ev's Christmas box arrived! This clever set of GeoMags was actually made in Switzerland, sent to the States, only to return.
We've been struggling with sickness, too; yesterday, Michael uncharacteristically crawled under my desk, then promptly feel asleep.
These days, merchandise seems graded by environmental friendliness, ergonomics, and number of cupholders; the Scenic scores highly in the last two for sure. I liked the backseat airducts and big storage compartments. It's diesel, so mileage should improve, and the gas warning told me exactly how many kilometers I had left! Nice.
Has two additional seats in the back, so can hold 7 squished people.
Switzerland requires snowtires in winter, but since this is a French rental, it only has all-season. I have tirechain-phobia, too, so every drive is a calculated risk.
Michael and Jack modeled the crown for me, although none of us really cared for the actual loaf.
BTW, yesterday featured a rare teachers' strike, so M & J stayed home with me, while Carolyn took her French quiz class downstairs (she joined the class this term). Homemade banners like this "school on strike" were hung everywhere, but it's very contained - ie it lasted one morning and supervised play was organized in place of school.
