Homesick for Disaster?

Tonight's blog was going to be about Geneva. But I find myself spending the evening balanced between swirling my mind through a multicultural diaspora and telescoping focus to the U.S. East Coast. On the one hand, I have discovered television after a 3 year hiatus, and it's fascinating to see the world through Swiss eyes. I have about 40 channels, I think, and there are at least 6 languages officially represented - 7, if you recognize Winston Churchill's observation that the Brits and Americans are two nations divided by a common language. Tonight alone, I have seen:

• Chinese drama, dubbed in German with French subtitles
• A Chilean documentary dubbed in Portuguese
• CNN
• French stations - mostly news
• Italian soap operas

When I left work, the Genovese German lady who works for my French boss was speaking Spanish with the cleaning lady.

In my heart, I know this is the right place to be. But strangely, I find myself watching the East Coast of the U.S. almost longing to be part of the fray.

Serendipity - Found an Apartment

Most people will say that finding an apartment in Geneva is extremely difficult. High density, high demand, and a very stable Swiss Franc contribute to this. There is simply a limited amount of space before reaching the lake or France. Due to these factors, finding a place to live is competitive, and one hears stories about 30 people applying on-the-spot and then each application being compared against the others to determine who is the most desirable tenant. This involves a "regie" or a Swiss rental agent, which can be made even more challenging if one does not speak French.

There are several approaches, including renting through an agency, buying (expensive!), renting from the owner, and subletting. Subletting - often these are found through office bulletin boards and English language (and others) sites like World Radio Service or Glocals. The process of finding a place can take months. I found an apartment in 5 days.

Moving Desmond Overseas (US to Switzerland)

I moved last weekend from the United States to Switzerland with my 3.5 year old labrador, Desmond. Prior to moving, I read websites and blogs (See Claire's Ale), visited the veterinarian over a month in advance, and even spent 30 minutes on the phone with a government official from USDA APHIS (U.S. Department of Agriculture Animal Plant Health Inspection Service) Veterinary Services. (This was cute, yet frustrating, as he tried to help me navigate the website by indicating that I should highlight words, then click on them in order to move between pages.)

Prior to a move into an EU country (Switzerland adopted the EU regulations), one must have a sheaf of paperwork and some advance work.

Testing the Waters of Lac Leman

In preparation for my upcoming move to Geneva, I'm in for a one week consulting trip to the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (the Federation or the Secretariat). It has been an interesting series of meetings, training and meals, and I think there are some challenges ahead that will keep me well busy starting next month.

Mermaids... and Quirkiness

At the Farmer's Market this morning, Bill called me quirky. I like it.

Then this afternoon, I opened All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarden from my shelves that I haven't read in over a decade... it's of short anecdotes, so I opened to the middle-ish and found the following story:

"Giants, Wizards and Dwarfs was the game to play

Facebook Juxtaposition

I just noticed two friend posts next to each other on Facebook. One is a link to a Stop Abortion site. Right below it is a link to a Stop Hate group. While some might find this substantive dichotomy of politics disturbing, I find it enriching. By conversing with people who have different belief systems, I'm able to form more intelligent and educated decisions of my own. And I love that the fundamental principles of this country celebrate diversity of thought and opinion, even though individuals may abuse the gift and mis-recognize it.

You're Kidding, Right?

In Afghanistan, the minimum age for suicide bombers is 15. Makes you think again about the driving and cigarette laws here, eh? "I wish I were 15... then I could blow myself up." Don't grow up too fast, kids.