Deck the walls

I arrived home today to find a Christmas arrangement bearing a wood candle with carved wooden flame in the planter box just outside the door of our apartment block. I have no idea who did it.

I should just say that the plant underneath the verdurous pine is none other than the Australian native brachyscome. Lord only knows how it ended up here in Switzerland, but we were rather tickled to see it when we first moved in.

Shedding some light on the subject

Candle-dipping is a bit of an institution around these parts. And you can see why. A winter Christmas lends itself rather well to nights peppered with candles and fairy lights and boughs decked with snowy baubles and all things twinkly.

So I took DS and DD down The Hill yesterday to do their bit for the candle population of the world.

It seems that in and around Zürich there are a number of events based on tradition and a long cultural history (such as the Räbelichtliumzug and Weihnachtsmarkt or Christmas Markets), which are really quite charming when you've just arrived from a relatively young (if you're not Aboriginal) cultural environment steeped in such traditions as the cricket, the Christmas day BBQ, and the Boxing Day sales.

In fact, I was at a bit of a loss last night in my First German Class Ever, when we were talking about different countries' traditions. When asked what the biggest national celebration was in our own country, and what we do on that day, the Italian and Spanish students had a lot to say, as did the Sri Lankan and Croatian students.

I could barely keep up, except I did get that in Spain they have to wash the streets afterwards (must be big, whatever it is - I'm thinking something to do with tomatoes?); and also that the Italians don't eat until 5pm and then only until about 7pm (OK, I really didn't understand that one).

Teacher: And in Australia?
Me: Er... New Year? Australia Day? (I wanted to say 'Election Day'.)
Teacher: Und wie feiert man das Fest? (What does one do for this celebration?)
Me: Essen und trinken? Und Feuerwerk? (Note: all my answers are actually questions these days.)
Teacher: Gut. Warum macht man dieses Fest? (Good. Why do you have this celebration?)

Indeed. I couldn't answer in German, and I couldn't even think of an answer in English. I kept thinking, 'What is Australia Day anyway? Surely it's really the day that Captain Phillip declared British sovereignty over indigenous lands? Surely that's not very PC... Surely we don't still celebrate that? And what about the whole multi-cultural thing?'

So after the class I wandered up The Hill in the sub-zero but very candle-lit and twinkly night, to Google it. I discovered with some relief that on the Australia Day website, the 26th of January is now a day for 'celebrating and reflecting on our national spirit'.

Well that cleared that up. Now I just have to work out how to say it in German.

A Never-Ending Sunday in the Theatre of Life

After half a day water-sliding my way through life at Alpamare, you'd think I'd've been on the couch recovering.

Not so. I did have a reviving cup of tea, but then realised we should think about heading into the city to see the annual Santa parade down the Bahnhofstrasse.

So off we set, into the Kinirtaq (!), and on the train to the Hauptbahnhof, where floods of kids and parents were making their way into the city.

As we got off the train at the Hauptbahnhof, we were a little surprised to see a Harry Potter mural along one side of the train parked on the very next platform (or Gleis).

Not only that, but there was a queue of people lined up to go on the train. DH and I cast excited looks at one another and, without further ado, swung into action.

He and the kids joined the queue as I headed for the nearest 'Hogwarts Security' guard, who explained that we could go on the Hogwarts Express (read: ZVV train all Pottered up for promotional purposes). He told us it was an exhibition which included costumes from the most recent movie, as well as props and partial sets (read: the launch of The Order of the Phoenix DVD).


We really couldn't believe our luck (remember how DD was reading all those Potter books in parallel?), especially when we boarded the Hogwarts Express to see the real live robes of Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy and Luna Lovegood, as well as a reconstruction of part of Umbridge's office complete with pink cat-plates.

DH was rather taken with the rows of ingredients for making potions and frankly, even though this sort of blatant promotion aimed at children makes the cynic in me cringe, I couldn't help feeling somewhat excited and more than a bit interested in the costumes and theatre of it all.

And we even had time to get to the Santa parade! (Which we privately and totally undeservedly congratulated ourselves on...)

In fact, the parade was just about to get underway as we arrived, and I must say I rather enjoyed seeing all the Elves and Santas in costume, congregated in the just-rainy night with their various floats and horses and Christmas lights.

Brass bands played very oom-pah stuff as the procession worked its way down the Bahnhofstrasse, but even though it was very Euro and Christmassy and all that, there were bucket-loads of people lining the street, and the kids were starting to get cold and hungry. Plus, I suspect seeing approximately 37 Santas could have been a mite confusing for DS.

PS. I took a few photos of the parade, but after the HP adventure my camera kept shutting down and telling me I had zero charge. So I had to keep tricking it and quickly taking a photo before it shut down again.

So if you look closely at this last photo you might see one of the old trams all lit up like a Christmas tree, and - at the top - you might also see the vertical Christmas lights which are hung the length of the Bahnhofstrasse (the ones people complained about last year). And I must say they are kind of interesting, but not really Christmassy in the twinkly sense. Another photo later, perhaps, when I have a charged-up camera.

A watery Sunday

This weekend DD was invited to the farewell party of a friend she'd only just met. (Such is the life of the ex-pat.)

This was no ordinary party. It was at Alpamare, home of Europe's biggest indoor water-slide.

Now I don't think I'm an over-protective mother, but I did have a little niggling feeling that it might be best if I accompanied her, or at least loitered nearby, since all the girls were at least two years older than DD, and DD is not yet a strong swimmer.

So at the crack of dawn I jumped on a train to Pfäffikon, with the aim of meeting them there. (DD had joined the girls in the car.)

Oh boy was I glad I went.

Not for DD's sake - she was fine; happy I'd come, but basically fine.

No, I was glad I'd gone because Alpamare has some serious water-slide action, and let me tell you I might have been acting all casual, but it's not every day you get the run of the place without having to keep an eye on a five-year-old as well.

The first thing I noticed on approach was that the side of the hill was steaming. That looked promising.

The next thing I noticed was that, because we were there so early in the day, the car park was rather empty. So far so good.

I located the girls easily, made sure DD was OK with new faces and non-English-speakers, and then went for it.

I can't say I tried all the slides, because there were a few favourites which took up a bit of my time, notably one which was very fast and you had to go down solo: unaccompanied by people or floatation devices.

DD, whenever I passed her, forced me to go down whichever slide she'd just been down, so of course being a good mother I obliged.

But by far the funniest thing about this place was the wave pool.

Every 20 mins or so a siren went off, and people started swarming towards the wave pool (which was really just like a 50 metre pool, if that) to the throes of Hawaiian guitar. Not only that, but as the Hawaiian music subsided, the artificial thunder started up, the strobe lightning kicked in, and then it started to 'rain'! I couldn't stop laughing, and wondered what DD was thinking about it all as she braved the chlorine waves.

I tried to explain to DD's friend's mother why it was so funny, but found myself telling her about Australian beaches and how DD had been surfing last Christmas holidays, and how huge the beaches are...

Even the raspberry (or was it grape?) slushy at lunch couldn't mask the homesickness at that point.

I meandered back to the train station with my hair still a bit wet under my hat, and wondered how long it would be before I felt sand between my toes again.


I felt the solidarity, though, when I got home to find DH glued to the computer again after yesterday's election, eyeing off the electorate figures and ruing the fact that he hadn't been able to go back to the tally room this year.

Boot on other foot

Saturday really began on Monday, when DH and I sat down and with great ceremony filled out our postal votes. (Which way would it swing? Could we really wait until Saturday to find out?)

The Real Saturday began with DH and the Hausfrau glued to the computer, streaming radio and (eventually) ABC TV.

Presently, however, Life in Switzerland intervened: I had to go and find DD some snow boots before her feet froze and fell off, and Real Saturdays are the only weekend shopping days, since everything is closed on Real Sundays.

So off we set, leaving DH still glued to the computer, not knowing if we'd return to a Liberal or Labor government. I had my mobile phone at the ready.

We passed our friend Sheepish on the way, which of course made me think of elections even more, since in the recent Swiss election there had been a campaign involving sheep.

Please, let me explain.

The Swiss People's Party (SVP) came up with the idea of using the image of a black sheep to represent their view that Ausslanders (foreigners) with criminal records should not be allowed to stay in Switzerland. Unfortunately marrying the 'black' concept with the 'we don't want you to stay' concept was wading waist-high into racist territory. And, regardless of what they might say (and they claim they're not racist), pictures speak louder than words.

I guess any press is good press come election time, but I must add that the mug-shot bill-board posters of SVP candidates around the time of the election could be seen not infrequently with extra 'decoration' from the public. (Read: Hitler moustaches and devil horns.)

Not only that, but one weekend some protestors had set up a kind of patting-pen on the Bahnhofstrasse, in which were a number of white and black sheep, living in harmony, one presumes.

Back on track, though: Did we find a pair of boots for DD?

Yes, we did. Not only that, but as she was replacing one old pair of (I could say jackboots, but that would be silly) boots with new black ones, DH called with the news.

Out with the old, and in with the new.

(Now where have I heard that before? I should be a speech writer.)

Old friends

Dear Aussie Pal and I went to the Zürich Wine Expo last week, which I must say was rather good fun.

20Francs got us into the event, which was spread across about 5 boats, all moored at the top of the lake and gang-planked together so one could wander easily between them. Each boat had about 15 different vineyards represented in booths, and at first DAP and I were a little confused about how to proceed, since the program was all in German. Needless to say we soon got the hang of it, and we soon discovered that her v. good French was rather useful, as were my few not-so-good words of German.

We started out with the Swiss wines but hastily transferred the centre of operations to the Austrians, which we enjoyed tremendously - especially the dessert wines.

Following that little sticky interlude, the German whites were a little disappointing, but we forged onward, and forced ourselves to try several more before we decided we might do well to quit while we were ahead.


So we trouped off to get some hot chocolate and dessert at nearby Globus, in Bellevue.

This is a place I'd cast longing glances at in passing, several times. During the day the outside tables are jam-packed with punters, and a bread-stall sells the most divine-looking loaves to passers-by.

So, as you can imagine, it was pure joy to sit with an old friend and watch Zürich pass us by as we shot the breeze and nibbled on fig tart and tiramisu.

Waiting

Christmas must be around the corner.

Yesterday we saw lots of chaps high up in the city, busying themselves with what looked like the beginnings of decorations.



I've heard that the main Bahnhofstrasse Christmas lights were changed last year, after many years of twinklies, to very modern, long, vertically hung, coloured fluoros, which run the length of the street.

In retaliation against the 'eye-sore', I'm told that local shops (read: Prada, Chanel, Cartier, H&M, FC Weber, etc etc - oh but it's a long street...) went overboard with twinkles, so I'm looking forward to a night-time visit closer to Christmas to see what the outcome of all this will be.



In the meantime, there was a fire last week in one of the medieval buildings on the East bank of the Limmat, which took out most of the building and a firefighter with it. The ruin was a strange sight to say the least, standing as it did amid the history-laden old-town, but also a reminder, I suppose, that all things pass.

A tropical outing

The kids and I headed out into the swirling snow after school today, to see Das Dschungelbuch, or The Jungle Book.

We met up with a couple of other 'Spouses and Partners of...' and their kids at the Bernhard Theater, which is right in the Opera House and theatre hot-spot in Zürich city.

Part way into the show I was starting to panic because I understood literally NOTHING of what was being said.

[Thinks: Why don't I get this? I'm sure my German's better than this... Where's my brain when I need it?]

Happily, I realised shortly after that - when one of the characters started counting to five - that it was in fact Swiss-German, which is quite different to High German (e.g. drüü instead of drei for three). Usually it's really easy to tell the difference, but for some reason my brain and ears were at loggerheads up to that point.

The play was, happily, a little slapstick, which kept me - and many children - thoroughly entertained.

DD said she had no idea what they were saying, and DS asked a lot of questions very loudly throughout. They did enjoy it, though, as did I, and it was rather fun to see bright tropical costumes on a wintry Zürich day.

Poor old DS was drop-dead exhausted by 4pm, as he is every day since kindy is all in Swiss-German, except for a couple of children who speak English (including one very lovely chatty girl to whom DS has taken rather a shine).

It was still snowing as we arrived back at Horgen station.

Ice-cream for the Ausslanders

Can I just show you this amazing ice-cream/sorbet stuff I accidentally ordered from home delivery?


How's that for nationalistic!

And it tastes amazing - berry sorbet, with a creamy ice-cream cross in the middle.

It's all about categories

My Dear Aussie Pal called this evening to tell me she had 'arrived in this popsicle of a city' - meaning, of course, Zürich! Exciting for me to show her some sites and the now refreshingly not-so-stinky apartment.

Tomorrow we are expecting a high of -2 degrees C, and a low of -8 tonight! And it's well on the way there: this evening I raced out of the apartment into flurries of fluffy snow to put the compost in the Big Green Bin.

Yes, we have composting! It gets taken to the local recycling plant, which is just around the corner and up the road a bit.

I just realised I thought I was going to be writing about snow, but I'm actually writing about waste product. How about that. But I've been meaning to blab on about this for a while anyway, because I'd heard (prior to arrival in Z) that one had to pay for tickets to stick on rubbish bags so that the garbos would take them away.

Of course, this information was slightly baffling to us, sitting in our Wohnzimmer (ha! just showing off - living room, it means) in Canberra, since we couldn't imagine leaving bags on the streets due to the presence of curious Aussie wildlife. And secondly, we couldn't imagine Joe Blow being so civil-minded as to purchase his tickets and dutifully stick them on bags.

In fact, it's slightly easier than that. You do have to buy specific rubbish bags appropriate for your area (about $20 for a roll of 35 litre bags), and only these can be left for pickup.

We were most impressed that there are an abundance of recycling bins for glass and tins on most streets in the city of Zürich, and PET and milk cartons can be recycled at all the Co-op supermarkets.

I'm not quite on top of all various types of recycling in our town yet, as I was given all the information in German and have been too lazy to babelfish it. But the gist of it is that there are particular days where you can leave out e.g. cardboard, paper, etc. (I just look out the window and think: 'Oh look. There's a whole bunch of cardboard...')

So back to the snow: I happened to be doing some surfing about snow, because I wanted to know all the Inuit words and what they meant. Mainly because since we've been here we've had: sleet, fluffy snow, hard hexagonal ice-bits, hail-ish looking tiny balls, and slushy wet big flat bits of snow.

So here's a list, from the Inuit, Aivilik and Igloolik languages:

Aluiqqaniq : Snowdrift on a steep hill, overhanging on top
Aniuk : Snow for drinking water
Aniuvak : Snow remaining in holes
Aput : Snow on the ground (close to the generic Snow)
Aqilluqqaaq : Fresh and soggy snow
Auviq : snow brick, to build igloo
Ijaruvak : Melted snow, turned in ice crystals
Isiriartaq : Falling snow, yellow or red
Kanangniut : Snowdrift made by North-East wind
Katakartanaq : Crusty snow, broken by steps
Kavisilaq : snow hardened by rain or frost
Kinirtaq : wet and compact snow
Masak : wet snow, saturated
Matsaaq : snow in water
Maujaq : deep and soft snow, where it's difficult to walk
Mingullaut : thin powder snow, enters by cracks and covers objects
Mituk : small snow layer on the water of a fishing hole
Munnguqtuq : compressed snow which began to soften in spring
Natiruviaqtuq: snow blasts on the ground
Niggiut : snowdrift with South-east wind
Niummak : hard waving snow staying on ice fields
Pingangnuit : snowdrift made by south-west wind
Piqsiq : snow lift by wind. Blizzard
Pukak : dry snow crystals, like sugar powder
Qannialaaq : light falling snow
Qanniq : falling snow
Quiasuqaq : re-frozen snow surface, making crust
Qiqiqralijarnatuq: snow when walked on
Uangniut : snowdrift made by north-west wind
Uluarnaq : round snowdrift
Uqaluraq : taper snowdrift

PS. Watch where the huskies go: beware of the yellow snow.

(... and with that I guess we're back to waste product.)

Candles

Yes, it's been an indulgent week...

I'd also like to post a pic of my special candle. It was made for us before we left Oz.


Friends all put a chunk of wax into the mold - for themselves and for absent friends.

We lit it on Sunday night.