The "Spectacle"

It was a first for us as parents, attending an evening children's program ("spectacle") of Michael's kindergarten. Le Soldat Rose ("The Pink Soldier") is a story about toys that come alive at night in their shop.

Students and teachers worked on the costumes for months.

Front row at the gymnasium.

Bus stop afterwards: waiting to transfer to #4 .

Michael really enjoys performance, staying serious about his role throughout the 1 hour show.
En route to McDonald's for a celebration milkshake, we came across police in riot gear and tear gas; Christian Blocher, the racist leader of the People's Party was arriving at the station. Michael's first demonstration.

Pully: 6th Move in 4 years

We moved to Pully - a village just east of Lausanne - and are enjoying the quieter life of a stand-alone house with nicely landscaped yard. We're out of a city center - also out of a hotel - and part of smaller, maybe narrower, little community of Lausannites who can afford this address (we had little choice - nothing else was available to rent). We're minutes from a great lakeside park and pool scene. You can hear the steamboat whistle in the port, reminding of the late night train rumble in Tacoma.

It's just great to use public transport, taking the bus 4 days a week for Michael & Jack's schools - only a 10 min. ride to the main square of St Francois. A ticket buys you unlimited travel on a particular route for an hour. Carolyn bought a bus pass, which has opened up the whole city to her, and the boys love seeing the city from a bus.
A new group of 35 students have arrived for the 5 week intensive summer session (4 weeks of actual class: what's the point?). We really miss the Spanish-speaking staff who make the hotel work, as well as the dozens of students we befriended, but will see again soon in Malibu.

Carolyn attended an evening concert in the cathedral - two choirs, full orchestra - where parents of one of Michael's schoolmates play; went out for drinks later. A few days earlier, she was invited to another mom's home for coffee - earthshattering move on the part of a Swiss. The social drawbridge is lowered and she's been granted entry.
A schoolmate gave Michael these shells. We explained how crabs sometimes use them as homes then move on; he smiled matter-of-factly, and said, "Like us."

Venice

We weren't going to go, but a new Swiss carrier started offering flights: Geneva to Venice in 75 minutes; entirely doable. That's Carolyn below, shadowed in the left foreground, holding Jack's hand, with Michael skipping along (typically) ahead of the pack.
Carolyn had been years ago, but my appreciation for the city was only rooted in John Ruskin's essays, who praised gothic architecture for its human flaws and craft over the mathematical precision of Greek ideals realized by slave labor, where humans were mere instruments, tools.

Part of the broader Arts & Crafts movement, along with William Morris - Ruskin was also both a reaction against and extension of the industrial revolution. An aesthetic counterpart to 19th c. feminism, which also critiqued modern industry - took labor out of the home - these "return to the natural" movements curiously owed their lives to the very phenomenon they opposed. ANYWAY, Michael and Jack's interest with Venice had to do mostly with gondola rides, gelato,
and non-stop, live orchestral music in San Marco square - all for a price (recurring Venetian theme). This outdoor cafe had a cover charge.

The gondolas (jet black with plush interiors) had a hearst quality to them - the last ride if you will - which, I understand, was their function at one time and the city was a water maze of narrow passages and bridges.
These newlyweds were in building-a-lifetime-of-memories mode, while tourists posed with pigeons. I recalled a grad student who told me that bird seed was being substituted for rice as after-wedding confetti; birds were fatalities of the uncooked rice which bloated in their stomachs. So, if you see an unusual number of fallen birds around a church, there was probably a wedding.
Venice was laid-back. The most enjoyable day was spent ducking in churches and underneath store awnings, escaping the rain. Impressive was the quiet (no motor vehicles), except for the occasional water taxi.

I don't know enough about Murano glass, except that there is serious marketing and rip-offs galore, but we visited the glass "museum," which was really a demo set-up to sell EXPENSIVE colored glass to tourists. Glass has been a motif of our lives: upstate New York's Corning Glass Musuem, then Tacoma's Dale Chihuly and Glass Museum. I bought an excellent tumbler set to hold gin and tonics. Michael tried his hand.

Dent-al check-up

"Find your tooth"

Michael's school has a resident dentist, so all the children got a free check-up. "Dent" means "tooth" and many of the famous craggy peaks that make the Alps so impressive are appropriately named Dent du ___; punned by this little poster on the office wall.
The dentist took 2 x-rays and declared, "Bravo." I bought Michael some congratulatory gummy worms afterwards.

Loire Valley

The "see all we can before leaving Europe" campaign was officially kicked-off with a trip to the Loire Valley in France; the 6 hour drive tested our new GPS and our boys.
Loire is a gentle region dotted with 300+ chateaus outside of Paris, well-traveled by kings and lords for its breadbasket bounty. Bright yellow fields of rape seed checkered the landscape.
Dave & Corina, our Aussie proprietors, were London professionals who traded in their good fortunes to "get away from it all" and pursue a dream - as well as, roping in others - to live in a chateau. There are BBC TV shows based on stories like theirs - often hilarious - as these hosts often have no training in hospitality management. Our facility was perfect, but staying there meant kinda hanging out with them, on their terms.
Which was ideal for Michael and Jack, who played with the dogs, jumped on the trampoline, and were encouraged to ride their scooters inside on the marble floors.
And Alex kindly taught Michael how to use this new guitar video program.

Then on to the chateaus. Chambord, the largest one, was holding its annual flea market and was, well, not that attractive to me:
Beth was visiting, and we all loved the bridge and grounds (a maze hedge) of Chateau Chenonceau,

which gave Michael & Jack plenty of imaginative play.
The comic strip, Tin Tin, was set at Cheverny, where the Mona Lisa was hidden during WWII. Yielded tasty, cheap wines.Leonardo da Vinci lived the last two years of his life at Chateau Clos Luce, which has a very impressive interactive park of dozens of his inventions, like the corkscrew well above.

Parents of one village were raising money for the local school, so we pulled-up to see what gives. It was the closing-up of the annual cookout, but this Leonardo kindly welcomed us, running inside to get extra sausages, promptly handing me the tongs!
This was a highlight of the trip for me, as I cooked and we all shared good beer and they even cranked up the fryer to cook us some fries. Michael got to turn the crank contraption that fanned the charcoal.
The second castle confirmed to me that Walt Disney was obviously trying to reproduce Europe when he designed Disneyland as a theme park of outdoor cafes, manicured gardens, flower beds, and a castle. The major difference being once outside the magic kingdom you have Southern California.

Jack

Jack's birthday was officially April 12, 2005. Sidelined by a busy schedule, we celebrated it in fits and spurts; blogging it only now.
Debby always remembers our children's birthdays and even gets her mother to follow suit. Here, Jack opens a book given by Edith Schaeffer on a Sunday afternoon after church.

Think of this poor excuse for a cake as a candle receptacle.

Auntie Ev brought Thomas trains. We lit the party "bomb" after the final banquet (must've been midnite!) - a Swiss firework that explodes streamers, small toys, and candy in the air that the kids scramble for.

Recently, Auntie Kathy and Uncle Lee sent over a rocket pump - huge hit. Highly recommend this toy.

I gave a vintage wind-up train that Jack could do all by himself.

On a somber note, the recent 7.9 Sichuan (Jack's province) earthquake has been devastating, but everyone in the Deyang City orphanage is safe and evacuated. The panda reserve we visited over 2 years ago was near the epicenter.

Clean-up

Lots of changes. People have been visiting and we're moving out on Sat for several weeks to Pully - a nearby village - to a quieter setting, house with yard, etc. So, meanwhile, here is an assortment of photos.

Michael's Christmas dress-up from EbayUK/Jack's pirate costume.

The Tree: the Lausanne Program's legacy on the southern wall in the student area. You can see Michael and Jack's handprints at the lower right of trunk.

These "Japonois" patisseries were amusing. All slanty-eyed and sinister looking (to me). Most are smiling, but some are missing a mouth altogether. Is that a French beret?

Note to Laurie Oban: that tearoom still serves the cream in a chocolate bucket, but it's heavy whipped, not liquid, cream now. Closer to Gruyeres cream or Devonshire, I think; not airy. When it melts in your coffee, the whole drink becomes rich, thick.

Went back to Strasbourg's beautiful cathedral with the in-laws. Note the circular star pattern above Mary - a not so subtle emblem of the European Union, which gifted the stained glass for the chancel. The political message stamps the icon in a secular reversal of "In God We Trust."

Posing for a humorous sketch. Michael really enjoys this kind of attention. The other day, at the altar during communion, he was prostate, looking blissfully pious at the railing. A real ham.
And Michael has been really drawing a LOT. He said that he wanted to make something you'd hang in a museum, ie BIG ART. His drawings have narratives now: a burning castle with a trapped mom needing rescue.

Swiss kindergarten has encouraged him to paint and make various crafts. They also get to a farm periodically and milk the cow. The other day, he came home, saying he had carved a pencil with a knife. Another time, he calmly replied, "I chopped wood."

Yes, with a small axe. Children still do this in Switzerland. In school.

"You are what you drive"

People often comment on how wealthy Switzerland is - true, but we've been struck at how simply people live, compared to the glam-oriented materialism of Southern California; a world of personal trainers, pick-up restaurant meals, platinum/elite cards, home delivery-and-removal Christmas trees, and inflated real estate.
One example. Most Swiss drive simple little cars; almost none of the high-end luxury models that dot the freeways of the Conejo Valley back home. I recall being struck - after moving down from Tacoma - at how many luxury cars existed in SoCal. There is some statistic that more BMWs per capita in the world are sold in LA. Granted, people spend more time in their vehicles, but the respectable position that, say, an Accord occupied elsewhere was, in some LA suburbs, held by a BMW or Lexus. I struck a compromise and got an Acura TL (basically, a souped-up Accord with branding to satisfy label-conscious Americans - the European version retains the Honda name) to replace my 1984 Honda Civic.

I also recall being at a car rental counter, overhearing one fellow congratulate another, saying, "Nice...out here, you are what you drive."

Public Behavior

All the while living here, I've been intrigued with public behavior.

Swiss schools teach children they are part of society and stress the elaborate customs of their in-group, such as formal greetings, upon entering or leaving a space you've inhabited, like a cafe. Passing someone on the street, a Swiss of your neighborhood is apt to acknowledge you properly, in rituals open to, more or less, strangers. Sort of the way we might make the rounds at a dinner party, making sure we say good-bye before leaving unannounced. It evokes more than "hi" or "bye," but ends there, too; deeper conversations are reserved for the smaller circle of friends.

Put differently, individuals negotiate public and private spaces which tangibly exist, where that line seems to have somewhat collapsed in America; the clearest example being talk radio, where the omnipresent private has overtaken the public.

However, this level of commitment seems entirely lacking in more anonymous settings here, such as entering an elevator in large malls, or doors of a bus or airplane, or, say, maneuvering your shopping cart in a supermarket. I've been startled when knocked into by other carts without the slightest apology. On the Saturday after Good Friday and before Easter Sunday, it was bumper cars all the way at Migros!
By contrast, in my America, people WAIT until the elevator empties, before entering. Other situations regulate the problem (Swiss post offices and banks have numbered ticket dispensers), but someone here needs to introduce the concept of a "line."

Many Swiss aren't used to anonymity, since their communities are still very intact; but drop into a large big box store outside their neighborhood, and their good manners curiously drop, too. It's as though they can only "do village" or the highly cultivated manners of mealtime.

Some of this is simply the reality of living in a densely populated area. Not a big deal, but can impact your perception of rudeness. We noticed in Japan, where personal space is almost non-existent, you are likely to be jostled, when making your way through a train or subway corridor. And after 3 years, we were back in the States, where an invisible buffer zone seemed to surround everyone; if I approached within 3 feet to someone on a sidewalk, I'd usually get that "back off" glance.