I need to lower my hovering skills

There is a strange park next to Jason's office. It is fenced in and only open at certain times. What times those are, we're not quite sure, but it was open yesterday, so we went.

We had gone to Jason's office so that I could sign mortgage papers, accepting an offer on our house. (A terrible offer, with lots of contingencies, but an offer nonetheless. Better than no offers.) Jason took the baby with him to go scan it and e-mail it back and Sarah and I went into the park.

There was a tree house building section. Trees, boards, nails (rusty!) and hammers. Build your own tree house, kids. Then there was a zip line, which stopped you by ramming you into an old tire, and hopefully you didn't break your head. Sarah played on rope swings that started you four feet off the ground. (You pulled them up to a jumping off point if you didn't have a mother to lift you up.)

In short, it was the most dangerous playground I have ever seen.

And I was the only mother.

Sure, from time to time another parent would come in, call their child's name and their kid would trot off. But, I was the only hoverer.

It struck me that this park would never be built in America. The lawyers wouldn't allow it. I mean, "here kid, build your own tree house!" in a public park? No. A zip line without safety equipment and monitors? Never! (Sarah rode it twice and loved it.)

And let's just say, to humor me, that it was built. There would be mothers everywhere. "Watch your step, honey!" and "Pound that nail carefully, darling." Aiyee! So very different.

Sarah loved it. Loved it. She wants to go back next time it is open. I think we'll go, as we now have our Swiss health insurance. Plus, her tetnus shots are up to date.

Things that are different

• Exit doors open in, not out. This does not bode well in case of a fire and panicked exit. Of course, the Swiss would probably just line up.
• Grocery carts go forward and backwards, just like in the States. But, they also go sideways. Seriously. Sideways.
• If you want to cross the street, just stand there and look like you want to cross and no matter how much traffic there is, all the cars will come to a halt. I always feel embarassed by this. Really, keep driving. I'll wait.
• It takes 1 hour and 40 minutes for my washing machine to run. My very small washing machine. Thankfully, I have my own. I don't know how I'd manage a shared one.
• Church bells ring regularly. It sounds just like the marriage scene in the Sound of Music.
• Totillas are 5.40CHF for 8
• Grocery stores close at 6:00, or 8:00 on Friday and 4:00 on Saturday. They aren't open on Sunday. All stores follow these rules unless they are close to a train station (train, not tram) or are a gas station. Stores can be open on Sunday if they are independantly owned and only family members work there.
• As Sarah keeps pointing out, everybody speaks German.
• People assume that there will be people walking in the streets. This is nice for us walkers.
• I now worry about letting Sarah watch French television. Will this inhibit her German acquisition?
• You can't buy boxes of baking powder. Only two tsp sized packages.
• Bottled vanilla is non-existent as well. You can get vanilla sugar, or vanilla beans.
• Corn chips? Ha! If you find them, it's 7CHF for a small, small bag.

Swiss Culture is Different

Well, in addition to Jason not having to work over Easter weekend, the people who work at the grocery stores don't have to work either. Yikes, as we had no food.

Fortunately, we got two calls from Ward members on Thursday afternoon to warn us that the stores would be closed Friday and Monday. Grocery stores normally close at 6:00 and it was already after 5:00. This is by law, by the way.

Stores located in a train station can stay open until 10:00, so I left Jason with the kids and headed out with a pocket full of francs. (They don't do credit cards the way Americans do, so I have to be prepared with cash, which is totally foreign (ha!) to me.)

This was my first trip out on my own, and I was concerned about getting off the tram at the right spot. Jason had instructed me, and I was all prepared and paranoid. In order to get off the tram, you have to push a button to open the doors. Unlike the subways in NY, they don't automatically open.

I was counting down the stops until the Bahnhoff SBB (Bahnhoff=train station) and the announcement came that my stop was next. I prepared myself to get off. The tram stops. I jump up and push the button. The doors do not open! Everyone is looking at me funny.

Turns out, the tram had stopped prior to the station to wait for another tram to move out of the way and we were still a little bit away from the station. Oh well, embarrassing situations are always fun.

The store was a nightmare. Since the only stores in the region that are open are at the train station, and it was just a small store in the first place, it was so crowded I could hardly fit down the aisles. I stood in line forever as well. But, we got some food, I had enough cash to pay for it, and I headed home.

I did not make a fool of myself on the ride hoome. Whew!