Switching to Switzerland

New blog!

2010-09-26T18:16:00.003+02:00

Hi followers, if anyone still reads this. I've now moved to London and have started a new blog here:

http://gwensjoblog.blogspot.com/

Check it out if you fancy it.

Leaving Zurich and you know what that means...FURNITURE FOR SALE!

2010-09-06T12:07:00.003+02:00

Well it's been over a year since my last post and in the meantime, we've come to the end of our Zurich adventure. We'll be leaving in two weeks (!) to move back to the UK.

If anyone still reads this (doubtful given my hiatus) and is interested in the **WONDERFUL WORLD OF SECOND HAND FURNITURE FOR GREAT PRICES**, check out what we've got at this Picasa web album and reply with a comment. Pick up in Zurich.

Thanks to everyone who followed my blog, especially throughout the difficult early months of unemployment. It's been a fascinating expat experience!

Want to give up smoking? Get marooned.

2009-08-02T10:26:00.005+02:00

I'm loving this - some guy is trying to kick a drastic habit by taking drastic action. This could become all the rage in new anti-smoking and quitting campaigns. True, need-t0-haves include access to a waterlocked piece of land lacking civilisation, adequate survival skills, and a healthy tolerance for sheep, but what better way to free yourself from an addiction than removing all temptation?

While it's a pretty cool idea on the surface, I do wonder about the sustainability of the smoke-free state that will almost certainly result from this method. What happens after dude's month of detox and he returns to smoke-infested civilization? He's got to have a re-immersion strategy. Going cold turkey is one thing when you have no choice, but in the end he's going to have to dredge up good old-fashioned willpower to sustain it. While infinitely more difficult, I think giving up the butt while constantly in reach of a pack yields a far more resilient Quitter.

I hope they do a follow-up story upon his return and then again a few months after. The article says he's smoked 30 a day for 43 years. While I enjoy a naughty smoke with booze, when stressed, and particularly when feeling rebellious, I can't imagine putting my body through that. I hope he's entirely successful in his new lifestyle transition.

Switching to Milan? Cologne??

2009-07-15T08:18:00.006+02:00

Oh it's been SO LONG and I'm sorry for that. My last post...my poor, lost last post...had me questioning Mustafa's reliability in keeping a lunch date. If I think waaaaay back, the resolution to that was that I cancelled on him. Am I childishly smug about that? Mmmhmm. Just the act of cancelling is enough to induce smuggity, but the reason for the cancellation gives me an extra layer of smuggy goodness: it was for a job interview.

That morning, back before the blog void, I was deep in my standard state of jobless despair when an urgent email from a headhunter arrived, immediately followed by an urgent telephone call, requesting my attention to a vacant PMO (Project Management Office) role. It was for a large, reputable insurance company and urgently needed to be filled because the individual who had originally taken on the job had quit. After one day.

...With some trepidation and an equal measure of anticipation, I cancelled on Mustafa (smug) and made my way to the headhunter's office. After an hour and a half of meetings I booked it to German lessons brimming with information, interest, doubt, excitement and RELIEF that something had finally come from my young-professional-on-speed jobhunting efforts. The role was interesting and challenging. It was also out of my realm of experience, my comfort zone, and my postcode. Like way out. Like Italy and Germany out.

So there I was, finally with a job offer in front of me (the meetings with the headhunter were a whirlwind of information session/interview/negotiation and in the end I walked away with the surprised understanding that I was being offered the role and pretty much on my own terms). I knew I was underqualified on paper, I was a bit shaken by the swift resignation of the previous PMO Joe, and I was rock-bottom bummed over the fact that taking the position would mean resuming a long-distance-in-the-week relationship - I ABHOR this!!!!. But I'm my mother's daughter, I'm (involuntarily) relentlessly ambitious, and I have a wonderfully supportive Harry, and these factors made it clear there was no way I could turn down the opportunity. There was also the dwindling bank balance and burgeoning unemployment insanity to consider, of course.

So dear friends, this is why I've been totally MIA for the past...two months??? I've been bouncing around Milan, Cologne and Zurich (and the UK and Canada for that matter), scrambling to learn how to do a job thoroughly enough to inspire some confidence from my team in my management abilities, and greedily soaking up all my Harry Zurich time when I have it. Now that I'm starting to get the hang of things (I am enjoying the job!) I hope I'll have more time to devote to my now inaccurately named but still beloved blog. Please forgive my absence and check back soon!

Wanna Bet?

2009-05-19T07:58:00.006+02:00

I had a meeting with Mustafa about three and a half weeks ago. It was a good meeting, our first face-to-face since November time. It's possible that there could be some work for me should a bid be successful so towards the end of the meeting we jumped into an on-the-spot case study where he tested my knowledge and understanding of all the reading materials he sent me. High pressure, high stakes, the usual with this kind of impromptu interview. You have to prove your grit as you might before a client.

So I was doing fine (it's possible that my best work comes out of these pressurised moments) when 11:00 rolled around, someone knocked on the door to take over the meeting room and our time was up. Mustafa said we should put another half hour in the diary the next week to finish up the meeting. Good good, I say. Can you see yourself out? he says. Of course, I say. We shake hands warmly and professionally (despite the drama, I do like the guy quite a bit) and off I go.

I immediately emailed about the next 30-minute meeting, and received no response. Dying a little inside, I emailed again a few days later, and to my shock and delight, he replied to that one (only the second email!!). He suggested a lunch meeting - another whole hour, WOW - to take place last Tuesday. I spent the weekend making notes on the case study and writing up a tidy little document to present to him. Tuesday comes around and ninety minutes before our meeting, he emails to say he has to shift to Thursday lunchtime. Ok. I sweat for a couple more days, wait for Thursday, don the suit again, annnnd another email comes prancing into my inbox saying he has to shift to today.

Please, ladies and gentlemen, make your bets. Will he cancel again? It's 8am. There are four hours remaining.

Zurich's Ethnic Food Geschäfte

2009-05-11T10:11:00.000+02:00

Harry and I were wandering around Zurich one hazy hungover Saturday when we stumbled across the city's ethnic food shops. This was a delightful turn of events as we used to cook a lot of ethnic dishes in Oxford and often frequented our local Chinese and Indian markets. I was happiest to find Zurich's Indian market and Harry stocked up on all kinds of goodies (because let's face it, I don't know what any of this stuff is I just eat it) - chapati flour, cumin, aniseed, cinnamon, cardamom, lentils, lime pickle, papadums, und so weiter.

Proof of existence.

Ooh, look at all the beans and things!

They also have a fish counter.

And produce section.

Lime pickle! Sauces! Tandoori!

At the Turkish shop we picked up a hunk of lamb shoulder mmmm some Turkish sticky sweets mmmmm and cooked a feast for some friends the next night. I also discovered that the Indian market sells PG Tips, Harry's tea of choice, which means we don't have to hassle family members to bring it over for us woot.

Proof of PG Tips.

Where can I find these culinary havens, you ask? Here's a map of Josefstrasse, where you can find gateways to India, Turkey, Mexico (sooo many kinds of tequila plus Dave's Insanity Sauce which Harry purchased with a wicked grin. I later licked a TEENY TINY DROP of it off the end of a fork prong and spent the next twenty minutes with my tongue hanging out trying to quell the fires of hell in my mouth) and more.

View Larger Map

Evolution of a Still Life

2009-05-04T10:47:00.011+02:00

I've been painting. It feels good. Here follows the evolution of my latest.

First, we start with a sketch. The cat got the axe in the end, sorry.

The sketch is then transferred to the canvas using charred willow bark.

The sketch is then finalised to the satisfaction of the artist. This takes hours, especially when the artist is an anal perfectionist. The drawing is the most important part of a painting.

Then, underpainting. Mmhmm, you paint the painting first and then you paint it again.

But I get bored with underpaintings and once I've covered most of the canvas I move on to the exciting bit. Colour.

And some more colour.

My back-breaking workstation. I need an easel.

Then comes the background (and teapot gets toned down a bit).

And the foreground.

Finally froggie gets some colour clothing. And then...

The finished piece. I like wine, Harry likes tea. Frogs always add something. So. There it is.

It's About Damn Time

2009-04-27T07:56:00.002+02:00

Haven't had time to read the article in detail as I'm CRAMMING for two Deutsch tests I have to take this morning, but I'm liking this:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/8019605.stm

Horny Frogs are Noisy Buggers

2009-04-23T08:34:00.008+02:00

No, this title is not meant to be taken metaphorically but literally word-for-word (um, and 'literally' is also meant as literally and not as a moderator for 'word-for-word'). Mum and I went to the botanical gardens of Zurich yesterday which were less than impressive. They do have, however, a large frog pond in their midst and it was absolutely teeming with screaming frogs getting their freak on. I think a video is really the only way to convey the cacophony, so please watch and listen. I'm not sure you can actually see the little romeos, but in person (er, in frog?) they were shocking exhibitionists, puffing their cheeks up, shouting, and jumping about all over their objects of affection. Someone should tell them to get with the modern days of cocktails, moonlit walks, and subtle glances. I almost can't remember the last time I was successfully wooed by this kind of inappropriate macho hoppy behaviour.

Anyway. I'm not sure what they do with all of the offspring but the pond was already full of squirmy black tadpoles. Those poor gals. They have been through the ringer.

Also, a few other photos from BoGardens:

Big domey thingies

Squirmies!!

Horny frog takes a breather

Greenness

Ups and Downs

2009-04-22T09:45:00.004+02:00

The day after the last post was better, just FYI. It was better because one of my contacts found a great job for me and I became hopeful and giddy as I wrote my cover letter. But the day after that, in probably the single speediest episode of Swiss job application replies, I was rejected. Bad news. And a lesson to anyone in my situation: don't ride the emotional roller coaster to a point where you can no longer see the ground. ABORT.

Things turned up again because my Mum's visiting from Canadia. She's having a fabulous time, largely because she wanted to use this opportunity to test out the retired life and is liking it (side note, she seriously just said of her own accord and with no knowledge of what I'm writing at this very second, "I LOVE this life. This is like Sunday morning over and over and over again!"). .....Yep, I'm living like a retired lady.

Today it's art and gardens and tonight it's pizza and wine. Not bad, objectively, but a teeny bit soul-destroying at 25 and eager.

Today Will Be Better

2009-04-15T11:34:00.024+02:00

My last job post was entitled 'Piss it.', suggesting I was feeling less than meh about the hunt. Yesterday was my first weekday in Zurich ohne German lessons, a thing I've been fearing since I arrived three months ago. To say I handled it poorly would be an understatement (shout outs to Alanna and Harry for saying sensible and funny things and ebbing the flow of tears). It turns out that for me, structure is a prerequisite for productivity. No, it's more than that. It's the impetus, the catalyst. The spark. The harbinger. Whatever it's important, and I didn't have it yesterday. What follows is a run-down of my day and lessons learnt from it.

In the morning I got up and had some cereal and coffee. I wrote a handful of emails to follow up on meetings I had had over the previous few days and sent my weekly email to Mustafa. I did three loads of laundry (seriously, I am not cut out for hausfrauing. I could not resent the task more). I organised my German papers from the last two weeks. I spent an excruciating hour on the phone to Air Canada trying to change around some flights. This almost drove me to start drinking but I managed to wrestle my hand off the neck of the bottle. I booked new flights on American Airlines. I wasted a ridiculous amount of time on the devil's plaything, formerly known as Facebook. I wasted a little more time on the devil's spawn's plaything, still known as Twitter but it's only a matter of time. I wrote a cover letter and tweaked my CV for a job as an English Lehrerin in Basel. I fought off swells of panic and stomach-dropping depression with a cheese toastie for lunch. I scanned the 65 new jobs on my Google Reader feed, wasn't surprised to find bubkiss, and reconsidered the bottle. By then it was about 1.30 in the afternoon. I thought I should get out of my bathrobe and have a shower so I did, and then I decided it would be a good idea to get out of the flat.

I took the tram into town and ended up wandering the dark, depressing shops underneath the Hauptbahnhof which didn't help my mood. I did a couple of errands and left the station wishing they had taken longer. To avoid going home, I shopped. Those of you who know me know how much I hate shopping so I'm sure you have an idea of my mental state. I bought two shitty tops from H&M and a book on consulting from the English book store. I then acknowledged that the answer to my unemployment woes would not be found hemorrhaging my non-existent funds so I dragged my ass home, fiercely hoping there would be some good news waiting for me in my inbox. The job hunting group of PWG was supposed to be meeting in the evening and I was looking forward to this ray of light in my day, but when I returned to the flat the only email I had was one saying the meeting was cancelled.

So, I decided to start crying. I felt so scattered and unaccomplished, had no focus, no leads, and no social interactions to diffuse the tension - the Air Canada rep does not count. I cried through a phone call with my best Canadian homegirl and through dinner with Harry. It didn't help that I got a chili in my eye in the middle of it all (seriously, it was a bad day). By then I felt I had earned a glass of vino so I popped a bottle of red and had three. Suddenly, it was today.

Now, what lessons did I learn from yesterday? Well friends, there are several. 1) German classes ward off madness. I'm going back as soon as I possibly can. 2) *STRUCTURE* is critical and not to be underestimated. Throughout the weepy conversations with my superheroes it became clear that I need to regiment my days. I didn't learn any German yesterday or read more of the material Mustafa sent me because I was too busy freaking out over having so much free time. Things I wish to accomplish must be allotted a chunk of time and this schedule will be revered. If my day is going to include indulging in self-pity and flirting with the devil that's fine, it just needs to be planned for and crossed off afterwards. 3) Never call Air Canada. Just don't. 4) Drinking helps, but only if done after dinner. Otherwise there's guilt to grapple with. 5) I love Zurich. Even at my lowest lows I'm not tempted to take it out on the city, start missing London, or regret my decision to come here. I'm a very lucky lady and success will come. Things could be a lot worse and I'm not so silly as to not be grateful for what wonderful stuff I've got.

Yes, today will be better.

Frohe Ostern!

2009-04-12T10:06:00.009+02:00

Happy Easter everyone. I hope you all enjoy OD-ing on chocolate and cracking eggs today. To celebrate, I offer you a few signs of spring I recently snapped around Zurich. It's been quite the transformation - two weeks ago we were in snowpants and yesterday bodies were sprawled by the lake in swimsuits and shocking skivvies (it's nice to realise there's a shred of quiet indecency in some Swissies).

Taken by Harry at the park by the lake.

Forsythia

Trees at the Arboretum.

A happy patch of green spring grass.

These lovelies above and the ones below can be found on our walk into the city.

So fat and happy!

My favourite, beautiful blues.

Cherry blossoms FTW.

Boats on the lake, mountains in the distance, 22ºC.

And finally, a very Happy Easter from me, Harry, and our doomed chocolate friends. Check out my guy - he's trying to be Swiss with his little red and white cardy but, like so many of us, he's actually a proud Canadian and just can't hide it. Chockey anyone?

Piss it.

2009-04-08T11:31:00.004+02:00

Frustration, setbacks, doubters, negative Nancys. F*ck f*ck f*ck. F***********CK. I just had a phone call with a Communications Director at an international technology company. I'll call her Mary Communication. I've become interested in pursuing a career in corporate communications since I had a meeting with a woman (not Mary) who writes speeches for the European chairman of the above-mentioned international technology company. Speech woman's job is fascinating to me - she gets to research interesting current events, interweave them with her chairman's perspective, the company's values and its own current events, and present a position to the audience. With flair, of course. She says it's challenging as hell and hard work but the subject of her work changes constantly keeping it interesting and fast-paced. She's in career heaven to me. Speech woman connected me to Mary Communication because she's a queen bee in communications and if anyone can help me, it is she.

When I spoke with Mary during our long-anticipated telephone call I was hoping that she'd suggest I apply for one of her unpaid internship positions. Unfortunately, I'm now considered a 'professional' and not a recent-enough student, so I'm automatically disqualified. Though Mary was kind and direct, our conversation was brief and the word is that with my lack of German, the economy, and my non-existent Communications degree, I'm just another liberal arts graduate with excellent communication skills and my chance of breaking into the field is, officially, balls.

When you have degrees from top, internationally recognised universities, when you have experience in one of the most well-known graduate business training programs in the world, when you're offering your services free of charge, and you're talking to a person who actually has the power to help you but doesn't, you know you're up shit creek.

Sketch

2009-04-01T09:50:00.007+02:00

I'm engaging in tandem German-English learning with a woman I met at Toastmasters several weeks ago. She's from Hamburg and thus a native speaker of Hochdeutsch (not Schweizerdeutsch) and she wants to perfect her English. We've had two two-hour sessions where we speak for one hour in English and one hour in German, thus allowing each of us to improve our Fremdsprache conversational abilities.

My friend is starting up a business for which she requires 21 simple illustrations of various body/yoga/kinesiology poses. She told me her friend, a professional illustrator, asked 400CHF a picture. I choked on my 8CHF Starbucks chai tea latte at this and said, "That's ridiculous. I do some art, I'll do it for you for an eighth of the price." She said to go ahead and send her a trial sketch and then we'll talk. In the end, she's decided to go with the drawings of another professional illustrator. C'est la vie. Trotzdem, I thought I'd post what I did for her. I sent her the first picture and in response she requested modifications to make the character sketchier, friendlier and livelier, hence the second pic.

If anyone knows of someone requiring the use of a freelance illustrator please let them know I'm available. And that I can do things beyond Standing Woman Wearing Suit Touching Knee. ;)

So Long, Snowboarding Season

2009-03-30T11:09:00.015+02:00

It is with joy, exhiliaration, and great anticipation for next year that we say farewell to the 2008/09 Snowboarding Season. Harry and I rounded out our beginner winter with a weekend away at Laax. We've become rather fond of this resort as it has a great deal to offer boarding newbies. Nagens, our snow area of choice, has a couple of wide, not too busy slopes with steep and shallow bits, perfect for practicing linking turns and carving. Run 12 (blue) and run 17 (red) have served us well, and 17 seems to be some kind of well-kept secret as it's often deserted. Keep the cat in the bag please. (If you actually checked out the piste map link, please turn your attention to the Crap on the left. Endless cause for snickering, especially when you tell your friends you're heading to the Crap Bar for a beer.)

In general our mornings have been better than our afternoons, probably because we've got more energy and we're so hungry by lunch that we stuff ourselves to ill-advised limits. Saturday morning was excellent and we were getting down the runs in record time, able by now to engage in a clumsy and only slightly life threatening dance with each other along the way. We're kind of like baby elephants doing figure eights on iceskates. On Sunday the weather was beyond crap (snicker) and visibility was terrible. We didn't have much hope when we woke up and peeked out of our window - you couldn't see twenty feet down the road the fog was so thick. But whatevs, we were there already so we figured we'd do the twenty-five minute gondola ride to the top and assess again. Though it was misty and snowing it wasn't as bad as it could have been so we gave it a go and glad am I that we did so. We had another fantastic morning, ice dancing baby elephants and all, had lunch with a friend, and then went back out for the afternoon session.

Here's where the cool thing happened. We had one of our two lessons back at the very beginning of the year at Laax. You may remember me mentioning Willy, our "gung ho and genuinely nice" instructor from South Africa. So Harry and I are on the 17 when we crest a hill and see a couple of snowboarders sitting down in the middle of the run. This isn't odd, people need to learn and you fall a lot early on. I'm ahead of Harry and I curve down around the boarders and hear an instructor shouting things at them. When I looked back up the hill I saw Harry moving over to the group like he knew them. I heard him say "Hey Willy!" And I was like, oh it's Willy! "HEY WILLY!" Keep in mind we're still moving down the hill as this is happening. Harry hits his helmet which is our signal to wait for each other, and when he catches up to me he says "Did you hear?" And I said, "No, what?" And he said, "That was Willy and when we were boarding past his students he was shouting at them to watch how we were doing it cause we're doing it right!" And that was pretty darn cool.

Some pics, because it's been a while since you've seen any (you can click on them to enlarge):

This is the 12 a couple of weeks ago. Check out the cloud we had to board into. You couldn't see anything at all within it and it really wasn't much fun. Makes for dramatic photography though.

The end of a beautiful sunny day sometime in Feb, heading back down the gondola.

As good as it gets.

Pretty much as bad as it gets. This was taken on Sunday at the end of our day.

In the gondola towards the bottom of the mountain the snow turned to rain and spring moved in.

*Informative Addendum*: We stayed at the Alpenhotel in Flims this weekend. For a 3-star it was fantastic and offered 4-star service. Alpenhotel's shtick is that it's a kids hotel but this wasn't a problem and you rarely saw the rugrats. Our room was lovely - very cottage-y/cosy with a balcony looking at the mountains, fluffy pillows, lots of storage space, and a modern bathroom with hairdryer. Great things about the hotel: snowboard/ski equipment storage space, 12pm checkout time, free quality coffee and cakes all day in the reception area, extremely friendly service, sauna, walkable distance from the lifts (and shuttle service as well), good American grill-esque restaurant which serves amazing and enormous burgers, lots of lounging places in the reception and bar, luggage room and shower room so you can check out on your last day and head to the slopes then come back and clean up before departing. And the price was reasonable. For Switzerland. Will go back and do recommend to best friend.

The Busy List

2009-03-24T20:34:00.008+01:00

Alas, I haven't written in ages. Don't ask me why. I want to say it's because I've been busy and that wouldn't be a lie, however my level of busy-ness hasn't significantly increased of late so my excuse (even though I told you not to ask and you kindly didn't) will have to be that...... I've been keeping watch over the cat ramp on the neighbour's building. It's just so cool to see kitty slink out the window and saunter down the criss-crossing wooden planks to the ground.

.....

....I've also been busy with other things. Like:

Snowboarding
Job applications (zum Beispiel: to a random Marketing Assistant position that I came across at a particularly desperate moment, and a slightly more promising Hewlett Packard graduate scheme in Dübendorf)
Networking (have a meeting tomorrow and Thursday with various people in high places)
Visitors
The Killers in concert (it was rather Hollywood and marginally boring, as in, they've got their act down and a little improv wouldn't hurt. I did get drunk on cheap beer though, partly because I like beer and partly because I was overjoyed at just how cheap it was when concert venues usually skyrocket the price)
Immer Deutsch
Culinary concoctions (yesterday I made a noodly, chickeny, sweet potato-y - I use a hyphen otherwise it's potatoy and that's just funky - gingery, HP-saucy dish that was delicious against all odds, and tonight it was meatballs made with wholegrain mustard, chilis, garlic, onions and eggies)
Wondering where my post has got to (I haven't had anything since my birthday. I think the city is holding it in some Ausländer repository until they're satisfied with my response to the mountain of paperwork they've dumped on me. Anyone care to post me something as a test?)
Losing my snowboard (So Harry and I went to Laax on Saturday and it was a gorgeous day. We were both having a fant-ass-tic time, feeling like we were improving and getting down the hill with style and no falls. Then I'm sitting down at the gondola station to adjust my boot when my (rented) board starts slipping away from me. I tried to grab it but it was too far from me, and before I knew it it had picked up speed and was happily racing off towards the edge of the mountain. I watched in horror as it gave a cheerful wave and sailed over the edge, never to be seen again. .... I kind of stood there and looked at Harry. And Harry looked at me. Neither of us was pleased, and I should mention that I'd already managed to leave the house that morning without my snowpants which meant I had to spend 200CHF on a new pair (they're lovely and mint green btw). It was one of those days. So Harry wants to climb the mountain and look for the board. I think Harry is crazy. I'm freaking out because I think I'm going to have to pay hundreds of franks to replace the board and want to call the shop right away. We bicker. I want Harry to continue snowboarding. Harry says of course he wouldn't, he wants to help me. I say that's nice but dumb. You get the idea. So I go to the gondola guy and tell him what happened. He goes into his little glass box and makes a call, then tells me to go to the SOS station at the top of the lift where someone might help me. This I do. The SOS station happens to be adjacent to the snowboard rental shop at the top of the mountain. I enter, relay my tale of woe, and shop dude starts looking at boards. "Burton Blender 45, you say?" "Yeah," I say, confused, "but I don't think it'll be there. I just lost it 15 minutes ago." He looks at me in a funny way, and I think there's been a misunderstanding with the language barrier. He says he only has a Burton Blender 51. I say ok....but....that's not my board. I've lost my board. The board I rented from your shop. A board that costs 600+CHF. And he says, "Oh, don't worry about it. Someone will go look for it tomorrow. It's a beautiful day, let's get you back on the hill." And he proceeds to fix new bindings to a new board. I stand there staring dumbly, still thinking there's been a misunderstanding and go outside to bring Harry in. I go through the same round of questions with Harry as witness. At the end of it, I finally allow myself to believe that in this country money and liability are not always the first thing on everyone's mind. I crack a massive smile and almost start crying, so relieved am I not to be charged for the loss, and because of this wonderful new feeling I was experiencing. Harry and I walked out of the shop on a giddy cloud, returned to the slopes and continued to have the best day we've had yet. I love this country.)

...My list of busy-ness appears to have got a bit longer than intended. I guess I have some pent up blog in me. I'll stop now and return to 'The Time Traveller's Wife', the first book I've thoroughly enjoyed in a long time, and get back to you again soon.

Underwater Volcano

2009-03-19T10:28:00.001+01:00

This is kinda cool. http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/7952030.stm

Kunsthaus

2009-03-12T08:27:00.007+01:00

On a whim yesterday evening I joined one of my German class friends (I think I called her Miranda before) on a visit to the Kunsthaus, Zurich's art museum. I've been meaning to go but keep putting it off, probably because when you live somewhere you neglect to do all the touristy things visitors do.

Wednesdays are *free* for the permanent collection which is smashing. We were a group of six in total, four from lessons and two newbies Miranda met at a couch surfing party last week. All expats, all international. I'm being spoiled by the diversity here...anything else will seem dull after living as an expat in Zurich!

We wandered around a bit and I had a fabulous time listening to my audioguide throw out terms I studied back in first year at McMaster. I always say museums and galleries bore me but when I actually get myself into one I have a pretty good time. After a while I sneakily siphoned myself off from the group. I find viewing art a personal thing and am often swayed by other people's opinons so I prefer to look at the paintings alone and see what I really think about them. I wandered off in search of the impressionist gallery, found it, turned a corner and was bowled over by two massive Monets - both featured waterlilies, were six metres by two metres, and were hung alone on opposite walls of a room filled with Rodin sculptures. The sculptures I couldn't care less about but the paintings... The room was empty so I sat myself down on the little leather settee and looked. And looked some more. I got up, wandered closer to the painting and moved across it with my nose almost touching it. Monet is so complex. There are no shapes in the painting, only brush strokes. You can see the way he whipped and dragged the brush across the surface over and over again creating layers of thick paint in beautiful pastel colours. His experimentation with light is so exciting too. It's there and then it's not and you realise he's actually succeeded in capturing shifting, reflective water. What a guy. I felt like I was there with him watching him paint...the strokes were doing something to bridge the gap between him and now and I felt so close to the painting. It was my painting, only for me, and I could have sat there for hours. For FREE! (On Wednesdays).

I regretfully left the impressionist gallery to find my friends and made the mistake of passing through the contemporary art wing. Compared to the impressionists and realists, much of modern art is total crap. Call me crass or unenlightened but a white canvas covered with splotchy white paint, no matter how big it is, is dumb.

So that was my visit to Zurich's Kunsthaus. Will go back.

Bad Day

2009-03-11T12:56:00.006+01:00

I had a not-so-good day yesterday. I'm starting to feel the pressure of unemployment. I don't like the fact that days are just going by and I'm not making some kind of contribution to the world. Yeah I'm still learning German every day and continue having meetings with people, networking, learning about new careers and so on and so forth. But it's not exactly lucrative. I want to make some money. Yes, that's a big part of it. It sucks to see your balance diminish everyday and know that nothing more is coming in in the near future.

So my back-up plan has been to temp. I got a list of temp agencies from my DBM consultant and left the house yesterday morning ready to present myself to them all. By back-up plan I mean the 'this will for sure happen but it's a last resort and I don't really want to do it' plan. Out of the four agencies I knew of, two weren't where they said they were. Of the two left, one refused to do any kind of business with me because I don't speak German. The other felt a bit more promising - the nice lady at reception took all my docs and said someone would be in touch with me for an interview. By the time I got home, I had received a generic 'thanks but we're not interested' email from them. I emailed my application to one of the first two agencies that weren't at their listed addresses and within four hours received another 'thanks but we're not interested' email. :| I thought anyone could temp. I've heard about job hunting being that much harder in Switzerland because people don't want to deal with you if you appear to be slightly over-qualified, so I'm guessing that's what this is. My Oxford education and Accenture experience are actually getting in the way. This is all very disheartening.

On the tram at the end of the day, however, a nice old Swiss lady offered me a chocolate easter egg. I didn't take it, not because of the whole don't take candy from strangers thing, but because I'd had a bad day which meant I'd already stuffed myself with enough chocolate. After the egg incident, a nice loud American woman got onto the tram. She sat next to me and I thought, ah, why not chat. She seemed cheery and I thought I could use some of that. It turns out she's from California, has lived in Zurich for 4 years and works for Zurich (the insurance company, not the city). We had a really nice chat and she missed her stop while giving me her card. We're going to meet up at the local pub and drink beer together which I think sounds super. So the day wasn't a total loss, but I'm still a ways away from working again.

A Quicky

2009-03-06T11:45:00.008+01:00

German

I should be studying for the German test I have this afternoon but I figure writing about German is kind of like passive studying? Right? Stimmt? Anyway, this'll just be a quick one.

We finally learned the past tense (Perfekt) this week. Now I can say things beyond "I enjoy drinking wine and eating chocolate", "The cat is on the table", and "Is his wife nice and honest? - No, unfortunately she's nasty and dishonest." This week's theme is health and illness so I've also learned all the parts of the body, how to tell the doctor what's wrong and ask for advice, and how to get out of playing football when I'm ill and have persistent teammates. Innocent passersby of our classroom two days ago would have heard us asking each other things like "Would - you - like - to - eat - some - ice - cream?", "No - thank - you, - I - have - diarrhea - today." Never a dull moment, I tell you.

Fondue

I ate fondue last week with a woman I met at PWG. The experience left a bad taste in my mouth literally and figuratively so I haven't posted about it, but fondue is like straight up Swiss so I should say something about it.

It's gross.

And another thing is that it smells so strongly that when I walked in the door after a thirty minute tram ride home Harry had barely begun to approach me when he stopped, sniffed the air around me, and asked if I ate fondue. He's also not a fan.

Oh and by the way...

2009-03-04T18:42:00.003+01:00

I turned 25 on Monday. I've been having difficulty coming up with Something Witty to say about it, hence the lack of post.

...Really...I've got nothing.

Cooking Update

2009-03-04T10:47:00.013+01:00

So I realise I haven't written anything about my adventures in cuisine since I made my declaration to conquer the kitchen. Problem is, when you have a boyfriend who can make delicious dishes and furthermore who enjoys making delicious dishes, it's tough to find the motivation.

I did lock myself away in the Room of Food last week, determined to make something that wasn't soggy frozen pizzas. In the end, it turned out ok. Here's what I did: I took two chicken thighs, drizzled them with olive oil and covered them with chopped up red chili peppers and mint leaves. I put them in a baking tray and popped them in the oven for...a while. I keep forgetting to watch the time. Then I went to work on a tomato/mint/couscous/onion salad. Couscous is awesome for the less-than-chef. You just put it in a bowl, pour enough boiling water over it to cover it and leave it for five minutes. Beautiful. I fried up some onions and a little bit of garlic, threw in some more chopped up chilis (this creates a smoke that will burn the sweet retinas out of your eyes so be careful) and used lemon-flavoured olive oil for extra taste. I also added chopped up tomatoes at the end to warm them but didn't let them fry. I mixed a vegetable cube into the boiling water to give the couscous a bit of flavor flav and before dousing it I tossed in a few fresh mint leaves. When the five couscous minutes were up I added the stuff from the frying pan, sprinkled some salt and pepper over it, gave it a stir and BAM PRESTO! I had made food. The chicken didn't require anything else except some friendly poking to make sure it was done, and then I served everything up alongside a can of my favourite tramp beer.

So there you go. With good reviews from Harry I consider this a step in the right direction. It was certainly a more positive experience than the time I cooked a battery into my casserole back in London, but that's a story for another day.

!The German Lessons are Working

2009-02-26T10:22:00.008+01:00

The German becomes trickier. As a class we were introduced to the Dative case yesterday. It was an awkward first meeting - no one really knew how to act or what to say, and there was definitely some sweating. In light of the new material I've decided to put my nose to the grindstone and make an extra effort by reading "20 Minuten", the evening transit newspaper, and other such materials. While waiting for the tram to take me home after class yesterday I wandered over to Kiosk to browse some headlines and see what I could pick up. The first few were a bit tricky but then I got in the swing of it and started picking up words and piecing together phrases. My eyes moved over to another paper and I was reading more and more...suddenly I could understand everything! "EUREKA!" screamed my brain. "THE GERMAN IS WORKING!" It was only after this internal victory party that I realised I was reading the Financial Times. In English. :|

Laax and Flims

2009-02-22T13:34:00.012+01:00

Saturday held another full day of fantastical snowboarding. This time we took the train to Flims/Laax/Falera, a two and a half hour train ride from Zurich and worth every minute. We rented our equipment and headed out for a private lesson with Willy, a gung ho and genuinely nice individual from South Africa. Instead of taking place on a silly little slope at the bottom of the hill our lesson was held closer to the top of the mountain, reached after two gondola rides which took about 30 minutes total. I thought we were high up in Flumserberg. I was mistaken.

For two hours we went over turns, slides ("Come on guys, butter your bread!"), traverses, falling, getting up, and proper use of the goddamned butt plate lift, something similar to the T-bar but more difficult to use, for those of you familar with ski lifts. You stand at the bottom of the lift waiting for a bar with a plate at the end to swing around to you, straddle it as it moves past (avoid crushing the jewels if you're a Herr), and get your foot back on to your board without toppling over. This was rarely achieved the first time for either of us and we would end up being ungracefully dragged up the hill until it occurred to us to let go of the bar. I should mention that there were five-year-old children capable of using the butt plate but it was easier for them because they're small. Moving on.

When we reached the top of the mountain before the lesson a cloud was sitting on us obstructing the view. As the sun burned away the mist we saw before us one of the most incredible views I've ever seen, perhaps comparable to the first glimpse of Macchu Picchu but maybe even more glorious. I don't know, I'm still shellshocked. I took some snaps with my phone that I'm reluctant to post because they just don't do any of it justice, but I can't resist so here they are:

After our lesson we met up with one of Harry's friends for lunch and then the three of us headed out again to test our skills sans instructor. It's considerably more difficult when you don't have someone shouting "front side turn!", "back edge slide!", and "CONTROL!" at you but we both feel we've almost mastered the basics. Thinking back to our first boarding experience at Horseshoe in Canada I laugh at what idiots we were to try it without instruction. No wonder Harry ended up in hospital.

Today we're both battered and bruised...we've got nasty coloured knees, aches in every part of our bodies (particularly necks for some reason) but continue to go over the day with glee and look forward to next weekend when we get to take our friends. We've got Stephen and Maite coming from Oxford and Amsterdam respectively and have big plans to show them our beloved Schweiz!

Weekend

2009-02-17T15:16:00.006+01:00

This past weekend was good. Really good. On Saturday we got over hangovers, did a monumental grocery shop for the visiting troops, and travelled across Zurich in search of a projector. I was half-heartedly following Harry on the little mission as this was his baby and I thought I didn't care about the size of screen we watched stuff on. Wowza was I wrong. The projector is a wondrous thing. Playing the Wii with it is even wondrouser and being able to watch Lord of the Rings the way it is meant to be seen is a true gift. I love the projector. It's now my baby too.

One option for Sunday was snowboarding but we reluctantly turned it down in favour of housework. Yes sounds dull but our flat was in a state and as we were expecting children to be eating stuff off the floor for the next few days it really had to be done. First, of course, we had to rearrange the entire house to make sure the projector was comfortable. Our massive lounge/dining room/office now revolves around the little black box on the bookshelf that points at the biggest white wall in the flat. Moving furniture inevitably uncovered dust bunnies which turned out to be no ordinary dust bunnies but dust Uruk-hai, bred in the fires of hell for one purpose. They defeated our pathetic hoover with militant skill. We're learning to live together. Harry and I did three loads of laundry, washed floors (for the first time ever, ugh), cleaned toilets, bathtubs, organised the bookshelf, beat rugs over the balcony, found overdue bills (oopsie), and basically did enough and achieved sufficient results to satisfy a TLC home makeover show. Like woah. We rounded out the evening with X-men on the ♥projector♥ and collapsed into beddy-by.

This Week

I realise I haven't mentioned anything re: the Job Search in a while. This is not to mean that I'm not on it. I submitted an application for a graduate program at an international pharmaceutical company last week. I don't have a shot in hell but I did it more to get back in the swing of writing cover letters and the like. I'm supposed to be having lunch with Mustafa tomorrow but have emailed to cancel as I still haven't received the pack of study material (*tear slowly trickles down my cheek...*). I also sent out a massive package that consisted of my CV, testimonials, academic transcripts and degree papers to a headhunter a friend referred me to. So things are moving. I'm happy to say my German is improving, to the point where I can phone up a restaurant, attempt to reserve a table and be told that they're full all in Deutsch (this is a real-life example and a major achievement that made me feel warm and glowy).

I've just returned from my second Professional Women's Group meeting feeling fired up and motivated. I met someone who may have the career I want - a very exciting development for me, ever the uninspired pessimist when it comes to the concept of job satisfaction. Definitely more on this later. Now it's time for bed. Sleep is precious these days what with the little visitors waking up before 7am.

Will the Potatoes Ever Really be Ready?

2009-02-09T12:59:00.011+01:00

Cooking is a serious business. I didn't inherit my father's culinary capabilities nor did I learn them from my mother so I'm left to make it all up for myself. I'd label myself a culinary infant at this point; I'm just a drooling, farting, giggling mess. I'm still unsure if I'm supposed to put the potatoes in the water and then bring them to boil, or add them after it's boiling, and when does the salt go in? Salt lowers the boiling point of water so if you add it first and then the water boils, it's a fake out. It's not really 100ºC. What happens if you put the potatoes in anyway? Will they ever really be ready? While I'm wondering about all this I'm usually ruining whatever else I've got going at the moment, be it curry or toast.

And meat. Meat is an entirely different ballgame. It's lethal. If you drop a piece of raw chicken on the counter, forget to wipe the spot and then lick it, you'll die. For this reason I've been cooking my chicken into dried out raisin-like pieces which Harry doesn't seem to enjoy. Apparently an hour and a half in the pan is too much. I heard about boiling meat recently and I think I may give that a try - you can cook the hell out of it but still retain some measure of moisture which sounds ideal to me. It also sounds difficult to screw up but I'm sure I'll turn that into some kind of challenge and manage it in the end.

Even with all the trickery and fatality involved in cooking I think it's an important skill to possess. The ability to feed family and friends is something I consider akin to loving them. My uncle is a phenomenon in the kitchen and almost every important event that's happened in the family has somehow involved one of his meals. So I've decided that I really do want to learn to cook. I made garlic bread last night which I'm pleased as punch to say was quite tasty. Sure, I only mashed up garlic, mixed it with Becel and spread it on bread but considering my history that's a triumph. I once made macaroni and cheese that turned out soapy (it's true, there are witnesses). I suspect I forgot to rinse the pot after washing it but who knows? Sometimes I think I have real magical abilities in the kitchen. So this post is a challenge I'm issuing to myself to learn to cook. I'll take it in baby steps and write about my successes, and more likely, my failures. Stay tuned. With any luck I won't have to report any major casualties.

Demons

2009-02-05T17:59:00.004+01:00

Shakin' my tush to Bunny Berigan and exercising my demons. No I don't mean exorcising, I mean exercising. I like to keep them in good shape with regular drills and healthy feeding, you know, in case a real emergency arises and I need them. I like my demons to be on call and dependable, like firemen. And nutella. At the moment I'm taking drinking and procrastination for a spin around the yard. I'm swilling cheap out-of-the-can beer from the grocery store and ignoring my German test which is taking place tomorrow afternoon. It just feels so. damn. good. Who wants to be nice and proper all the time eh? Wickedness is far more interesting.

Norn Iron

2009-02-05T12:00:00.008+01:00

I spent the weekend with my paternal grandparents, better known as Nannie and Grandad or The One Who Gives The Thumps and The One Who Gets The Thumps. Travelling weather aside it was a lovely visit. Nannie isn't very well so I spent most of the time with The One Who Gets The Thumps helping him to avoid being thumped. The two of us had great fun together and I've come away with so many delicious treats! In some cases I mean this literally (I've already eaten my treacle scones and most of the fadge) but in other cases figuratively. Grandad is a wealth of knowledge. He's got the scoop on everything - how to re-wire a plug and not just buy a new one, how to build a model train set complete with mountains and lakes, how to bake scrumptious muffins, where to go to download amazing 30s and 40s music hits, how to upgrade to USB2, how to make your toaster live for more than a decade, all the family history, where the family name comes from, where all the members of the family are and what they're up to, the evolution of the standard wall outlet, the latest satirical religious literature, where to get your hands on The Making of Wallace and Gromit, how to test if a fuse is working, and how to make an excellent cup of tea to name just a few. He's not so good at playing Monopoly but I guess I can let that slide. Anyway point being, I learned a lot last weekend. A message to all those kids out there who think that any and all information can be garnered from the internet: it probably can. But it's much more fulfilling and interesting to get it from older and wiser loved ones who will gladly share it with you alongside a cup of tea. Cheers Grandad, let me know when you're set to use the webcam over Skype!

Some eemageez from the weekend:

Me and the wealth of knowledge

Hanging out with Nannie

Fadge!

Meeting relatives

Update

2009-02-04T08:48:00.009+01:00

I realise it's been a week since my Last Post but I do have an excuse. I took a long weekend in Northern Ireland to visit my grandparents only to have Zeus step in on Monday and cancel both legs of my flight back to Zurich. I have a small piece of rage for the UK when it comes to snow...only 10 cm (ten cm, 10 CENTIMETRES) was enough to completely shut Stansted and London City airports, stop all buses AND most trains, and even cripple the Underground. :| The snow got worse throughout the day but at the time of cancellation there was a mere dusting. The Canuck in me was upset. So this put me on the phone and internet for two and half hours early Monday morning, where I begged multiple airlines to take more of my money so I could get home and not miss another day of my German lessons. In the end EasyJet, bless them, grumbled that fine, they'd take £200 of my hard-earned redundancy package and get me home. The route certainly wasn't similar to the original but I suppose I should be grateful for the opportunity to spend some time in Amsterdam and Basel. And take the train in the middle of the night from Basel to Zurich. My friend, who art in the Hague, is coming to visit in March and will be doing this exact Amsterdam-Basel-Zurich trip so I guess I'm also indebted to Zeus for the opportunity to scout it out for her. Thanks, bastard.

Anyway I only got home in the wee hours of Tuesday morning and then had to take a German test and generally get my life back under control. Also, happy news is that Harry's sister is visiting this weekend from Thursday to Monday so I'm preparing das Haus (there are rumours that we'll be going to Liechtenstein and I'll keep you posted). When I've finished doing this, I'll write about: the weeked (30s and 40s music, old family artefacts, the never-ending game of Monopoly, fadge), exercise, CV woes, and the man who came to Zurich to follow his girlfriend.

For now it's time for, in the words of Grandad, nosh.

A Job Story

2009-01-28T19:39:00.009+01:00

So I went for a job interview in Zurich back in November...no wait. It wasn't supposed to be an interview. It's important to paint an accurate picture of what's actually gone down here. A contact of mine (let's call him Bob) had a contact (let's call her Bitsy). Bob gave me Bitsy's name and suggested I email her about a job with her consulting firm in Zurich. I sent the email to Bitsy back in November and she was delightfully responsive. She suggested that I come by the office to have a coffee with her so I could ask her all my questions. I went to the office in my best suit and waited in a shiny leather chair. And then waited some more. And a bit more. Finally a man walked into the room and headed towards me with an expectant look in his eyes. "...Bitsy?" I said, standing up and holding out my hand, not wanting to seem thrown by the sex change, testosterone problem, or general man-ishness if that's what it was. Ha ha ha no, Bitsy had to go to the hospital (um?) I'm here instead, he said.

OK. It turns out that this man, let's call him Mustafa, is a Big Cheese at this particular consulting firm. Mustafa took me into a board room, offered me a latte, and commented on the fact that I was carrying a bag with a competitor firm's name on it. Shit. Great start, I thought. I sat up straight, said I won the bag, and readied myself to launch into the string of intelligent, thought-provoking questions I had prepared. It soon became clear that this wasn't going to be necessary as Mustafa steamed ahead, explaining the breakdown of his team, the work they do, the parallels that exist between his company and the one I was currently at, the qualities they want in teammates, the superior nature of the Swiss work ethic, how the economy is affecting them, how I might fit in, and so on and so forth. It was then my turn to talk and I was grilled about my CV, my experience, my presentation skills, Excel skills, people skills, language skills, cultural immersion skills, dedication, motivation and favourite kind of fondue. Good thing I glanced over my CV as an afterthought that morning while brushing my teeth.

I realised, as I walked out of the building an hour and ten minutes later, that I had just had an interview with a Big Cheese in a rather important firm, one that I'd quite like to work at. And apparently Mustafa was impressed with my slapdash performance. I was to expect an email the following day with some suggested reading material to use in preparation for a "proper" interview in the new year. Well. It's now the end of January and I've yet to see this email. That's not to say that there hasn't been contact. I've led a chase that would make Lucifer proud, and successfully wrangled two more promises from Mustafa to deliver the email in question.

Since arriving in Zurich about two weeks ago, I've sent six emails, left two messages and a dozen missed calls. Around Friday of last week I snapped and decided to spice up the titles of my emails. The subject line of one email held the name of Mustafa's favourite book, a piece of information I picked up while having lunch with a former colleague of his I happened to meet. This did not elicit a response. I entitled this morning's email "Perseverance" and said that I wouldn't be giving up any time soon so it's probably better if he just responds and gets it over with. And respond he did! HUZZAAAAAAH! Having just now got off the phone with him the unfortunate word is that the economy stinks and recruiting simply ain't happening. However Mustafa promised (sob) to send me some reading material in the post and once I've read it he'd like to have lunch with me so I can share my thoughts with him. I choose to see this as a positive little development as I was more than half expecting him to shout "stop freaking bothering me, psycho". In fact, he seemed to like my tenacious attitude and thank god for that. I felt that I was reaching a pretty stellar level of humiliation. Let's face it, two unreturned phone calls and six unreturned emails in any relationship pretty much a stalker makes. But now I have every excuse to continue hounding him not only for the reading material, but also for a lunch date.

German lessons und Toastmasters

2009-01-28T11:59:00.009+01:00

I've been busy and suffice it to say I wasn't expecting to be. I began German lessons at Bellingua on Monday and am so excited to be learning! I'm there for three hours every afternoon for the next month. My class consists of five ladies and one female instructor (just to keep you informed, four of the five female students are in Zurich "for love"). The students are all educated and motivated giving the course a quick pace and making me feel not quite so horrendous about spending £900 to be there... it makes me feel naseous to see it in print. Aside from getting a handle on the language, taking the course comes with some other happy perks such as school supply shopping (!!! :D !!!), and valuable nuggets of information from fellow expat students. One woman, an Italian architect, told me where I can join a gym for only 350CHF a year. This is priceless info as the going rate for gyms is +1000CHF a year and I had resigned myself to running outside (shudder) in the mornings instead. Indeed I dragged my ass out of bed yesterday to risk my life skirting frozen puddles on steep hills but I'll quite happily abandon that little routine in favour of the indoor crosstrainer.

What else has been happening...ooh so much! I attended my first Zurich Toastmasters meeting at the Mosquito Hill club on Monday evening. As usual the company was warm and welcoming. I'm always nervous at these meetings as I know I'm there to get up and say things in front of others, something I try to avoid doing at all costs, but the supportive environment helps to allay my fears a bit. I saw two people give their icebreakers (the first speech after becoming a member) and both were to a very high standard. This particular club consists of excellent speakers which I'm not so fond of as my Oxford club included a few members who almost couldn't speak publicly - their qualms made them hyperventilate or freeze up - which I found comforting. I believe I'll be the worst speaker at this club but I suppose it will force me to work harder on my technique. Once I figure out what my technique is. At the meeting I did my first ever table topic (an impromptu speech on a topic handed to you then and there) and had to speak for 1-2 minutes on my preference for white, milk or dark chocolate. I said something about my chocolate preference following my life, as I liked white as a kid, milk in my teens, and started eating dark as an attempt at sophistication upon my arrival in Europe. It went ok but as per usual my face flared up cherry red, every part of me shook, and when I sat down I couldn't look at anyone for a few minutes. Still it felt great to get the first table topic over with and at the end of the meeting a couple of people came up to me to complement and reassure me. I do love Toastmasters. When I got home I was all squirrly and hyper and danced around the flat a bit. I think I'll join and ask if I can deliver my icebreaker in two weeks.

I have more to say but have to rush off to day 3 of German lessons. Yesterday we learned how to say the letters of the alphabet and I got to use the lesson today because the postman made me spell my name for him! (You may think it's possible to just say the letters the English way, but it's not... 'G' is 'gay', 'W' is 'vay', 'E' is 'eh', 'Y' is 'uepsilon', 'H' is 'hah' and so on.)

Health Insurance, Flumserberg, and Luzern

2009-01-25T17:37:00.013+01:00

Ahhh, weekends. It's Sunday early evening, Harry watches footie, I'm having a beer and cooking a roast. And also learning how to cook a roast. Fingers crossed. Chickens are smaller here - the biggest one we could find at the big supermarket in the city centre was 1.2kg. I suppose we should enjoy the fact that they're not injected with water and steroids and other chickens or whatever, but still they're tiny effers and a little meat for sandwiches in the week would have been nice. ...Could I get more mundane. Right, more interesting blog fodder for you:

On Friday I got HEALTH INSURANCE! BAH HAHAHA! Maybe not interesting for you, but thrilling for me as I continue to knock down every administrative task in my path. Harry and I were planning on snowboarding Saturday but realised on Thursday evening that I didn't have the compulsory Swiss health insurance yet. And those of you who are aware of what happened the last time we snowboarded - i.e. Harry's concussion and lack of insurance in Canada - will understand our concern over this fact. However, a quick email to a contact at Harry's insurance company and I was in the office Friday afternoon, having a cheery personal consultant review my options with me. When all was said and done I was free to go and injure myself on the slopes. I also selected the option for the 'alternative medicine' (mmph) supplement which means I don't pay for massages! And this is all free for me as Harry's amazing company picks up the bill for partners of their employees. Wowza.

So Saturday snowboarding was back on, and what a fabulous day it was. We went to Flumserberg, the mountain closest to Zurich, and signed up for 'taster lessons' (after The Last Time we decided to start from square one). Flumserberg is an hour train ride from Zurich followed by a cable car ride up the mountain. Some snaps on the way up:

Note the almost vertical cables...

And this was the view from the top. You're seeing the peaks of some very tall mountains. We were high up.

We rented our equipment, suited up, and looked like this:

Please note the helmets. We headed over to the kiddie/newbie area (the "Boarder Zone mit Leo und Kurti!") and for an hour and a half absorbed the wisdom of David, our cool dude instructor, gradually getting the hang of balance, turns, and stopping. It turns out this last skill was the critical one we were missing the first time around. Every move I executed successfully was a thrill and I'm hooked. I even dreamt about boarding last night...though I also dreamt that Roheet sold me to a pimp so I suppose it's best not to take too much from that (Roheet we need to talk). Harry and I are both hideously out of shape and the lesson completely knackered us so when it finished we refuelled with chocolate and headed back down the mountain. Later on we engaged in an evening of beer and Mario Kart on the Wii in the company of a couple of Harry's friends. This made for good shits and giggles.

This morning I made a fry up and over it we decided to take the train to Luzern. It's been a stunning day, much welcome after a week of rain, so we thought we'd make the most of it. 90 minutes after leaving our door we were wandering through the darling downtown of the city. It was dazzling, with a misty mountain backdrop, gently filtered sun and crisp air. Apologies if the description makes you nauseous but it was just so beautiful. And quiet. We meandered around for a bit, climbed up the hillside to a castle and looked down over everything... I felt such a serene calm. I have no regrets about taking redundancy and radically changing my life. I'm so enjoying being here and the ability for us to take advantage of full weekends without having to face an international commute is a very welcome relief. A visual taste of our Luzern outing for you:

Moi reflected in Harry's glarses.

The gorgeous city.

A stack of luxemburgerli I wish was life-sized. :( I'm restraining myself for the photo op.

Geese and duckies fighting over scraps beneath a bridge.

The view in front of the station.

Ok I've been neglecting my roast and smoke is filling the apartment... Tomorrow is an exciting day - I'll begin German lessons, attend my first Zurich Toastmasters meeting, and book a massage. More words shall be written soon.

P.S. We ate roast before I published. The consensus was that it was similar to eating some kind of fabric. Better luck next time.

First Professional Women's Group Meeting

2009-01-21T11:20:00.017+01:00

Last night I attended a meeting of the Zurich Professional Women's Group. It's an organisation which offers women the chance to meet and mingle with other women and extend their networks. The focus of the meeting was a laughter seminar, the goal of which was to teach us ways to laugh for no reason. Unfortunately for the gentleman leading the seminar it wasn't much of a success and instead of a group of giddy girls at the end we had a somewhat blue boy (as in sad, not the other thing).

Aside from the talk the evening was entertaining and stimulating. I met women from several different countries in various professions who had many insights to share about their careers and social issues in Switzerland. One thing that surprised me a great deal is how many of these women are in Zurich because they followed their husbands here. Women in market research, academia, consulting, proposal management, finance all here because their men moved first. And then of course I thought of my own situation and realised that I'm also here because I "followed" my manfriend. I suppose in my case it's more that circumstances aligned in such a fashion that a great opportunity presented itself but still, I left my professional job to pick up and move to the country where my partner performs his professional job. I'm fairly certain I wouldn't be here if he wasn't. I consider myself a modern woman in a time when the concept of the second sex is dimming, where women are independent and in control of their lives. Being in the presence of so many smart, successful (and seemingly very happy!) ladies whose lives are so strongly shaped by men gave me a great deal to think about. I doubt very much that if there was a Professional Men's Group in Zurich an equal number of men would be there because they followed their wives.

Following in the same social-issue-vein, it came up over dinner that women are seen as "higher-risk" employees in Switzerland whereas men are more favourable hires. The "risk" comes straight from the uterus; women of child-bearing age (what is that, anywhere from 14 to 45??) may find it more difficult to find work because employers fear they'll get knocked up. Additionally, Switzerland only recently made maternity leave legal. Only 16 weeks paid leave is offered with no option for unpaid leave. If a woman chooses to stay away longer there very well may not be a job for her when she's ready to return to work. This is certainly a change from the 9 months paid maternity leave women are offered by Accenture in the UK, plus the option of 3 extra unpaid months and flexible working conditions upon returning to work. In addition, many UK companies are falling over themselves in attempts to attract women in order to boost their female workforce and be more competitive for young talent. It seems Switzerland is a bit behind on the equality front.

Anyway. The evening was great fun and I came home warm-faced and invigorated from the discussions (I may have frightened Harry a bit). I also made two new friends who both offered to refer me to their respective global consulting firms. Today I had coffee with an English woman who works at Accenture in Zurich (who happens to be here because of her partner (!)) who also offered to put me in touch with some of her contacts so the job ball is rolling. The expat community rocks. They're so chummy and generous. Overall I'm feeling positive and content. It was a beautiful day today and I got a run in, did the grocery shopping, ironed a million shirts (ja I become hausfrau), found the library, and did alotta job emailing. Now it's time to round it all off with a phone date with Barbs. :)

Swiss efficiency is no myth

2009-01-20T10:30:00.028+01:00

Swiss efficiency is no myth. Yesterday I succeeded in acquiring a temporary residence permit, opening a bank account, purchasing a monthly transit pass, and picking up a Swiss mobile sim card. All in one day. I remember being in tears upon first arriving in Oxford a couple of years ago when it seemed an impossible feat to open a UK bank account. They wanted letters I didn't have, forms I wasn't eligible for and my firstborn which I haven't yet conceived. Yesterday held little resemblance to that sad memory.

Some points from the day:

1) Church tax. When registering for my permit my interrogator asked me about my religion. First off I was shocked to be presented with such a personal question - it's illegal to ask about these things and almost to even bring them up as any kind of relevant point in the countries from whence I come. When I said no religion, I saw the interrogator's eyes widen as she gave me a Look. "Christ," I thought. I chalked her response up to a generation gap and just assumed Dawkins hadn't been translated into German yet. However when relaying my experience to Harry last night, it turns out that I had misinterpreted the interrogator's reaction. She didn't think I was a heathen miscreant, she simply thought I was a liar. Apparently the Swiss charge church tax and if you're religious and practice, you have to pay for it. When I said no to religion she thought I was attempting tax evasion. The agnostic-bordering-on-atheist in me feels a little smug about church tax.

2) The Swiss are nice. I've heard some things about their national attitude to outsiders - that they're aggressively insular, can be uptight, are very friendly when boundaries are firmly in place, etc etc. Of course you can't generalise and I wasn't approaching every Swiss person with a raised guard, but I expected a slight measure of iciness. Every interaction I had yesterday, however, with individuals ranging from government employees to retail staff to bankers, was friendly, polite, and welcoming. The interrogator even complimented me on my appalling German which was unnecessary but made me feel cosy.

3) As I said at the beginning, Swiss efficiency is no myth. I felt trepidatious about purchasing a monthly transit pass as Harry had mentioned that the people in the office don't really speak English. As I stood in line I madly flipped through my tiny German/English dictionary trying to figure out how to piece together the words "to buy", "pass", "month", and "tram", hoping I wouldn't end up saying something like "Bought I sufficient month bus?". Turns out that the combination of "sprechen sie englisch?" with a desperate look in my eye was enough for some help. I was taken to a machine with a friendly user interface, big type and a clear screen. After a short while and no frustration, the machine had told me that I was trying to pay too much for my pass because I qualify as a junior...!! :D It also allowed me to select the day on which I wanted the pass to become valid which surprised and delighted me. When I was heading to the transit office to buy the pass I realised I had already bought a 24-hour ticket that would take me into mid-morning of the next day. I sighed, thinking that I would just buy the monthly pass anyway and lose the value of my ticket, expecting there to be no choice in the date of validation because that would just make far too much sense. Lo and behold, the Swiss love things that make sense and furthermore, they construct their country upon them. I've become used to services and transactions operating on a firm principle of common-sense avoidance. I'm going to have to let go of such habitual thinking and embrace the possibility that somewhere in the world things work the way they should. And in some cases, better than they should. Please feel free to take a moment to enjoy that. Bottom line: the beautiful transit pass machine in combination with my overall day yesterday proved to me without a doubt that Swiss efficiency is no joke. It's taken very seriously and is a veritable joy.

Right. So that was yesterday. Today I'm focussing more on Job. I'm trying to chase down a contact I have at a consulting firm here in Zurich who may be able to employ me. I'm not one for hounding people and I hate cold calling but it appears that email isn't effective so telephone I will. I'm also attending a meeting of the Zurich Professional Women's Group this evening in the hopes of increasing the scope of my Zurich network and making some new friends. Sehr spannend!

2009-01-19T08:36:00.010+01:00

And with these first few words I forfeit my blogger cherry. Welcome to my Swiss blog. Swlog. My first blog. Flog. Though I write this for me I'd like to extend greetings to those who may read it occasionally, to those who may follow it religiously (for the sake of nepotism or other reasons yet unknown to me) and to those who may accidentally stumble upon it en route to things less egocentric. As I said, this blog is for me and for the most part this blog will be about me, so consider yourself warned. Switching to Switzerland will see me settling in to Zurich, me looking for a job, me learning German, me meeting new people, me pondering various topics, and me exploring my hobbies. Useful tidbits of information, interesting facts, and other things relevant to a greater population will I'm sure come later as I settle in to the blogosphere but for now, c'est moi. Moi moi mwah.

In a nutshell, this is me in my current situation: I'm mid-twenties, female, Oxford- and McGill-educated, attached, English-speaking, unemployed, Canadian, British, something of a perfectionist, a former management consultant, living in Switzerland, looking for work, trying to figure out what kind of work will satisfy and sustain me (though which requirement will take greater precedence remains to be seen), slightly artistically talented, a Toastmaster in training, a lover of organising and cats, and a hater of typos. I think that covers the pertinent blog information.

Today is Monday and today Swiss life begins. I woke up early with my man (who I'll call Harry for privacy reasons until he tells me differently), hit up the post office to pick up a parcel and attempted to purchase a Swiss sim card. As it turns out, I have to be registered with the canton of Zurich to do this, and to open a bank account, and to get a job, and to prove my address, and to legally live in this country. So I think that alone calls for the cessation of my virginal blog entry and a trip to the canton office at Bahnhof Enge. I'll let you know how it goes.