The Kissing Evolution

When I was younger, I was taught that I should shake hands with people upon meeting someone for the first time or simply seeing a friend. As I entered my high school years, it became commonplace to hug a girl upon seeing her, but to still shake hands or give high-fives to guys upon seeing them. I think this is pretty standard for the majority of America, especially for those of us who were raised in the suburbs.

Then, when I arrived in Miami, I started seeing this new phenomenon that absolutely blew my mind and made me a little uncomfortable at first: people were exchanging kisses on the cheek as a friendly greeting method. At first, I was pretty hesitant and slow to acclimate. I remember vividly the first time that a girl went in for the kiss-on-the-cheek-hello, I was at a loss and really had no idea how to react. I just kind of stood there, half hugged her, and let her kiss me on the cheek. I think a lot of this influence comes from the Latin vibe down in Miami; it is the cultural norm for many Hispanics.

Then came my study abroad experience in Spain. I still had not completely warmed to the idea of one kiss on the cheek when to my dismay, I saw people everywhere doing two kisses: kiss on one cheek, quickly pull the head back, rotate the neck, kiss on the other cheek. However, I got the double kiss down pretty smoothly. Maybe it was a direct effect of the frequency of drinking alcohol in Spain that made me more comfortable kissing people hello, or maybe it was my willingness to open up to other cultures as someone studying in another country. Regardless, when I got back to Miami, the single kiss was a breeze.

Two kisses is the maximum, right? Nobody in their right mind would do more than two, right? Wrong. Now that I am living in Geneva, the customary greeting is three kisses. It is a little bit time consuming to be honest. This is because the kisses come at the greeting, and then they come again when someone departs. So there are a lot of cheeks being kissed. Nevertheless, the kissing has really grown on me. I find that it is a warmer way to greet friends, family, or friends of friends. Sure, three might be a little over the top, but I am going with the flow.

I am just waiting to find the country where four kisses will be the social norm.

The Stereotypical Frenchman

Last night I went out to have a couple of beers with a few guys I know from class. It was me, another American, a French guy, and two Swiss-German guys. We got into a discussion about stereotypes and what our respective countries think of the others. So the French guy went first, saying that French people think Americans are loud, easily excitable and overly demonstrative. For example, he says he met an American in New York, and upon learning he was French, the American yelled, "Oh my GOD, you are FRENCH? Wowwww, like from PARIS OR WHAT? Say something in French!"

Then it was our turn to say what the stereotype in our countries was of the French. We all agreed that the stereotype is a cold, unwelcoming people who are more than a little rude to outsiders. Then, we started talking about how a typical French person looks. We started off with the pointy, overly formal shoes that are worn even on the most informal of occasions. Then the tight, dark blue jeans, a long-sleeve collared shirt covered with a sweater, and then a trendy blazer usually over that. Definitely wearing a scarf; probably carrying a baguette; possibly wearing a beret; prone to carrying a fashionable handbag.

On this last point, the French guy started saying how he needs a new Longchamp hand bag for class. I said, "Oh yeah, my girlfriend was saying she needs one too." He insisted that men and women's Longchamp bags were different, and he even went so far as to sketch the difference out on a napkin. When he drew the "man's" Longchamp bag, I again said,"That is exactly the one my girlfriend wants." It reminded me a lot of the Seinfeld episode where Jerry buys a European carry-all, and when robbed on the street, he yells, "Officer, that guy just stole my European carry-all!" The officer says, "Your what? Oh, you mean your purse?"

We also joked that French people like to ask rhetorical questions in conversation, and then shrug one shoulder and stick their chin out in front of their face and higher than normal. Also, when they do not know the answer to something, they make a peculiar little noise. To replicate this noise, purse your lips and blow air out from between your pursed lips. It sounds like a little fart.

There is a joke that goes like this: There are two French butts sitting on the beach talking to each other. One butt asks the other butt, "What time is it?" The other butt responds with the little fart noise.

The conversation got a little more serious when we started talking about Nicolas Sarkozy and the recently enacted law that the retirement age in France will change from 60 to 62. The French guy got really worked up about it, telling stories about how rude and power hungry Sarkozy acts. Next week there are going to be daily protests against this new law. I am in three-person group for one of my classes, and when we were trying to arrange a time to meet to discuss a research paper, the French guy (a new one, not the same one) said he could not come next Thursday. I asked why not, and he said he is taking part in a protest in France Thursday against the new law. That was honestly the first time someone has told me they could not do something due to a social protest.

Bikes, Bars and Hookers

Classes are in full gear at the start of the fourth week. We only have 14 weeks of class, but we go all the way through Christmas Eve, which is an absolute travesty in my opinion. Who ever heard of going to school on Christmas Eve? Not me.

I had my first ever presentation in French in front of my International Relations seminar last week. I hate reading presentations, so I tried to just talk to people and make eye contact with the class like I would do in an English presentation. It did not go quite as smoothly as it would have in English. My mouth got really dry, my armpits starting sweating, and I stumbled my way through the presentation. I got my point across, but I was certainly anything but the smooth talking presenter that I normally am. I will have to work on it, because I still have two more presentations this semester in my other two seminar courses.

Last weekend I went out to a bar with some friends I met this summer. My roommate offered to let me take his bike, so I took him up on the offer because the buses and trams take quite a while to arrive to where I wanted to go. I must have biked about 9 or 10 miles in total that night, but I cannot remember the last time I had so much fun on a bike. I am not really sure if I followed the proper biking rules of Geneva, but I tried to stay in the bike lane as much as possible. Then when the bike lane would disappear, I just kind of cruised in the middle of the road. That may have been the wrong decision, but the streets were relatively empty at 3 a.m.

We went out in a pretty dodgy part of town. Geneva has a rule that prostitution is legal as long as there is no third party involved (a.k.a. a pimp), and the area we were out in was more or less Geneva's red light district. The bar was pretty interesting too. There were a lot of girls who looked pretty manly, and after seeing the sizes of their calves, it becomes pretty apparent that they were not actually girls. But that is the life in free-thinking Geneva I suppose. If you do not want to see that, then go out in a different part of town.

This is my first Fall since 2005. As unmanly as this is going to sound, I really enjoy seeing all the leaves changing colors and falling off the trees. In Miami that does not happen. With the cold weather, out come the scarves. People here absolutely love scarves. I go to class, and everybody around me is sporting a scarf; even in class they do not remove the scarves. I have three scarves in my wardrobe. I think I need to up that number to at least nine to fit in around here.

Cultural Learning Points

This evening I informed my Italian roommate that I had finally purchased a bag of instant coffee, so now I would be able to drink coffee at home in the mornings. We do not have a coffee machine in our apartment, and coffee machines in Geneva are way outside of my budget, so I have been going without since I arrived. Earlier in the summer, I attempted to buy a bag of instant coffee, and I incorrectly bought Espresso mix. So, I was excited that I had finally bought the instant coffee tonight.

However, upon telling my roommate that I have been going without coffee, he kind of laughed and asked me why I did not use the Espresso maker that we have. I responded that I did not know we had an Espresso maker, and where was this machine hiding in our little apartment? He then opened the cupboard and showed me a little metal pot. Incredulous, I asked how that little thing made Espresso. He then explained to me how to fill the bottom with water, the next piece with the Espresso, screw on the top, and place it on the stove to let it heat for about five minutes. I felt a little bit foolish.

Another time, I had decided to buy a microwave for our apartment because that is an appliance that I use practically every day. Upon seeing the microwave, my Italian roommate informed me that he had never actually had a microwave while growing up. His family thought it silly to reheat yesterday's meals instead of simply preparing a fresh, warm meal for that day. Incredulous yet again, I thought about how often I use a microwave, and I wondered how somebody could live without one.

Each day I carry in my bag a grocery bag to use if I decide to go to the store that day. Here, it costs money to buy grocery bags (50 cents / bag). This is because of the environmentally friendly culture that exists in most of Europe--they do not believe in wasting 20 or so plastic bags each time that you go to the store as most Americans do. My roommates here actually told me that they take classes in high school on the subject of how to cut down on waste and be more green. I really think this is a great idea, and I will probably continue to take my grocery bags with me to the store even if I move back to the US after finishing my studies.

Not Quite a Denny's Grand Slam

This morning I went with Ana to have breakfast at a restaurant for the first time in Geneva. The place was really good, and it had a deal going: the full breakfast for the price of 10 Swiss Francs. As an American, when I think of full breakfasts, I think of the Denny's Grand Slam. In other words, I think of a plate overflowing with eggs, toast, hash browns, and bacon. I also think of a coffee with free refills, and maybe even an orange juice on the side.

However, the Swiss idea of a full breakfast is a little, well, smaller. It consists of a coffee to drink, three pieces of toast, and butter and jelly for the toast. For the Swiss, the fact that butter and jelly are included is a big deal. Do not get the wrong impression; I am not insulting the Swiss breakfast. First, it is much easier on the fat intake. Instead of being a meal that satisfies a person's daily calorie count, it leaves plenty of room for calories in the next meals. Plus, the jelly is great and not just something out of a jar bought in a store. Additionally, the coffee comes out in a cool little personal mug for me to pour coffee into my glass as I please.

On a side note, I will say that I have found several food items that I prefer in Switzerland. First, the chocolate is great. I was never a huge chocolate eater, but since I have been here I think I consume chocolate at least once a day. Second, the bread at the grocery stores and restaurants is always fresh and tasty. They are very particular about their pastries and morning bread. Third, the cheese is pretty spectacular. And finally, the fruit and vegetables are much better. Still, I do miss a lot of American food, namely Mexican restaurants, Chick-fil-A, and buffalo wings.

I finished the first week of real class at the University. It is pretty different from my experience at the University of Miami. First, there is no busy work or weekly assignments. The only grade in each class is a final exam at the end of January. Period. If you fail the final exam, you fail the class. And I guess it is quite common to fail an academic year over here. Maybe it is because we pay so much in America that we expect to pass, but here, if you do not bring your A game to the final exams, you will be repeating that academic year.

Another difference is the price of books. Most professors put all the assigned readings on the Internet so we can easily access them without being required to buy a book. This cuts down on costs enormously. In one class, the professor required us to buy a book that costs $45. The students around me were up in arms at the thought of paying that much for a class.

Also, Switzerland leads the world in the amount of waste recycled per year. 52% of its waste is recycled annually. Austria is second, and Germany is third. The USA is seventh at 31.5% of waste recycled annually. So, teachers here do not like to print a lot of papers. I did not even receive a syllabus in any of my classes. We are expected to access that online.

I am curious to see as class continues how I feel about the value of a Swiss education versus an American education. I am withholding judgment at the current moment until I see how the semester plays out.

Berlin: Poor, but Sexy

I returned Saturday to Geneva from another excellent European city: Berlin. I had to leave Switzerland to get my student visa, and I chose Berlin since it was a capital city that I had yet to visit. I had a long layover in Copenhagen, so I ventured out of the airport and saw the city for about 3 hours. It was a nice, but short, first Scandinavian experience. Once in Berlin, the visa process went smoothly. I found the Swiss Embassy the first morning I was there, finished the paperwork, got my visa stamped in my passport, and headed out ready to explore the city.


Now, I have been thinking long and hard about the statement I am about to make, because I want to be sure in what I am about to claim. I think Berlin is the most interesting city I have ever visited. Ever. It is certainly not aesthetically appealing like a Prague or a Venice. Instead, it has massively daunting gray steel buildings everywhere that are typical of Communistic architecture. It is certainly not filled with dazzling shopping areas or global tourist hot spots like a London or a Paris. On the other hand, it has a really grimy, grungy and melancholic feel to it, and for this reason the city slogan is "poor, but sexy." Berlin has enormous unemployment and city debt. However, its recent history really appealed to and interested me.

The first full day, my friend Jo and I (he is Norwegian; we met during the summer French course in Geneva, and I invited him to come down from Oslo to meet me in Berlin) took a bike tour of the city. This proved to be a great choice because we got to see the whole city relatively quickly (5 hours) and had someone giving us information at each stop. Here is a pic of me on my bike, the government building that has a transparent dome to signify a transparent German government, and Jo and me in front of the remains of the Berlin Wall right near Checkpoint Charlie.




We also saw sights like Hitler's bunker where he shot and killed himself, a memorial to a massive book burning that took place under Communist leadership, the hotel where Michael Jackson dangled his child out the window for all to see, a plaza where Karl Marx used to preach, and a large Jewish memorial. This memorial was interesting because it is left open for interpretation--the designer says the meaning is for each person to individually interpret.

The next day, we did an alternative street graffiti tour. Berlin is renowned for its artistic, punk spirit of denying authority, and it really shows in its street art. We entered old, abandoned warehouses where squatters live, saw a mile long piece of the Berlin Wall ironically rebuilt just to be decorated with art, and just downright cool graffiti on the sides of buildings. Here are pics of a man made up of other naked, pink men eating a little white man, a corporate man bound in shackles by his gold watches while tightening his tie, me with some designs, and a piece on the rebuilt Berlin Wall.







All in all, it was a really nice way to end the summer. That is because I start classes tomorrow, so no more vacation for a little while. Maybe.

Meet the Neighbors

I recently moved to my new permanent residence in Geneva. It is called the Cite Universitaire. There are three buildings in total, and I somehow got lucky enough to land a shared apartment in the only building not consisting of traditional student dorms. I am now living with an Italian guy studying Economics, and a German guy studying Computer Programming. They seem like good guys.

Last night my roommates and I decided to go and introduce ourselves to our neighbors in our hall. First, we knocked on a door and four girls answered. They were nice, and a couple of them are here doing study abroad. The next door we decided to hold off on because there has been a baby stroller parked outside the door for the last week, and the names on the door indicate that a married couple lives there. (I guess there is some subsidized housing here for citizens who do not earn a large salary.)

The next door, we knocked, and all we heard was someone come to the door, pause, and then lock and bolt the door. I guess they did not want to meet the three young gentlemen from down the hall. The next door we came to was answered by a student doing his PhD in Biology. He invited us in to a dirty kitchen, and we had a brief conversation. He was nice, but it is obvious he is better at communicating with microscopes, Bunsen burners and petri dishes than with other students. At the last door, no one responded.

My bedroom is starting to feel a little more welcoming after decorating the walls with some pictures and University of Miami paraphernalia. I also put up my map of Europe with tacks in all the places I have visited. I started this travel log when I was studying in Spain, and oh how it has grown. I have really seen most of the key cities in western Europe. There are a couple of gaping holes that I would like to fill in, primarily southern France (Monte Carlo, Nice, Marseille) and northern Spain (Santander, San Sebastian, Pamplona).

After I visit Berlin this week, the next cities that I would like to see are Zurich, Vienna, Budapest, and Florence. At the moment, Prague is the eastern-most city that I have visited in Europe. I think visiting Scandanavia would also be quite cool, but those cities do not make the short list, and moreover, they are not ones to be visited with Fall and Winter right around the corner. Additionally, I have heard that Croatia has some great countryside and is quite cheap to visit. We will see where the discount airlines take me this Winter.