Bargaining Versus Begging

Last Sunday afternoon, I took the train to nearby Nyon to attend a meeting with a group of expatriate Americans who are greatly concerned, among other things, about the radical right-wing's well-funded and concerted onslaughts on public employees in various states in the United States.

If you live in the United States and have not heard much about these occurrences, you are not alone.  What passes for mainstream media in the US has largely been deafeningly silent about them.  For the most part, good factual coverage of the Wisconsin demonstrations in support of bargaining and other human rights, as well as similar events around the nation, can be found on-line on sites such as Daily Kos and The Huffington Post.  Some regular columnists at mainstream print media sources such as the New York Times and the Washington Post have also published excellent opinion pieces. 

Among events that have received a tiny bit of exposure in the US press - the news has been covered much better abroad by the Guardian and the Independent than by US newspapers generally, I'm sorry to note - have been the ongoing demonstrations, at times numbering well over 100,000 participants, in the state of Wisconsin throughout the month of February.  What is fascinating is that these events have attracted a worldwide audience and a feeling of global solidarity that surely were not intended by the radical righties!

Because anti-union (public employees' unions are the current targets) and anti-collective bargaining actions have been taken by legislators and governors in thrall to radical ideologues who were voted into office in November 2010 and these disturbing actions have seemed to be so well organized, William Kronon, professor of history at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, prepared an interesting and well-researched historical context for these actions and published them here.  For performing this true public service, the Republican Party of Wisconsin has literally launched a modern-day witch hunt against Professor Kronon.  The historical context must have hit too close to home, methinks.

Some in our expatriate group have connections to UNI (Union Network International), the global union for skills and services that represents 900 trade unions and 20 million workers worldwide, including those in the United States.  UNI is headquartered in Nyon and occupies a modern building there with well-appointed conference rooms.

The meeting had many - of all ages - in attendance.  Discussion was lively and it was a very interesting afternoon.  The gentleman seated in front of me proudly sported a sweatshirt with the logo, "United We Bargain, Divided We Beg."  These are sobering sentiments indeed.  More sobering is the fact that we Americans should have to be standing firm for such  - again - and in the 21st century! 

Among other actions, to show our own solidarity with and support of Wisconsin's public sector employees, we approved a resolution that denounces the unprecedented attacks against public sector workers.   The text of the resolution, entitled "We Are All Wisconsin," can be found here.  On 4 April, we, together with other like-minded Americans and supporters, will rally at the Place des Nations in Geneva in support of collective bargaining rights.

The 4th April timing is significant, as it represents the 43rd anniversary of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., in Memphis, Tennessee, where he had traveled to stand in solidarity with striking sanitation workers demanding their chance to attain the American Dream.  We keep having to fight the same battles - over and over again.  As the saying goes, "The more things change, the more they stay the same."

Some "Butterfly" Moments

It's been a while - much too long a while, in fact - since I've seen my very precious Princess Butterfly.  So I was absolutely delighted to receive several recent photos from Proud Papa Big S.  Best of all, he promises to send more soon!  Here was the Princess on St. Patrick's day, just as her Papa was getting ready to travel to Montana. 

I didn't see that she was wearing anything "green," but that may just be my old eyes!   Anyway, before he left for Montana, Princess Butterfly and her Papa spent some time together in the local park, where Princess Butterfly discovered a dandelion (fr. dent-de-lion or pissenlit).

The dandelion had blossomed some time ago.  Its flower had now become a cluster of seed spores.  (One can also notice that the Princess has been very busy tattooing herself.)

So Princess Butterfly did what just about everyone who picks a dandelion that has seed spores does.  She blew on the seed spores.

And off they scattered - eventually to produce more dandelions!  But that left the Princess only with the stem - a very bare stem.

So then it was time to do something else!  Having a good time on the swing is always an excellent "something else" to do!

At least, Princess Butterfly enjoyed it very much!

Enjoying Alfresco Dining

One thing that is so enjoyable once the weather turns warm enough is to enjoy one of the many alfresco dining possibilities in this area.  Thus it was that six adults, accompanied by two small ones - one tiny! - met for luncheon on Thursday at the Domaine du Château de Penthes in Geneva.

It was an absolutely splendid day and I was delighted to see that tables, ours included, were set up to take advantage of the brilliant weather.

The Domaine du Château de Penthes is a wonderful sprawling area that dates from the 14th century.  The site comprises six buildings, including the Museum of Swiss Abroad (first photo above), the Geneva Military Museum (last photo below) and the Restaurant des Cent-Suisses where we had a very enjoyable lunch.

It was a great day to be out and about.  Tiny Princess C, just three weeks old, mostly slept or munched throughout our visit.  We hardly heard a peep out of her.  She looked very content.

We all selected the plat du jour, a delicious veal with vegetables, for CHF 19.50.  Some of us were unable to resist the additional temptation of a tarte au citron avec pignons.

After our very pleasant meal, I wandered about the premises with the two young mamas.  It was simply too nice outside not to.  Sweet Momma E braided a coronet of tiny spring daisies for her own Princess C

who was not excited about posing for the photographer.

We were happy that we could take advantage of this lovely site at such a beautiful moment.  In fact, such moments, at least in this spot, may be numbered.  The problem, as described more fully here, is that the Domaine du Château de Penthes occupies a prize location in Geneva, where good real estate is scarce, real estate values have soared and zoning laws are strict.   It is located between the Palais des Nations, the headquarters of the United Nations in Geneva, the US and Italian diplomatic missions to the UN and the city's Botanical Gardens.  The foundation that has been managing the site and museum for decades has a lease with the Geneva regional government that expires early in 2012. The problem is that the canton will not disclose its plans, although it favors developing the site as a retreat and conference area for the international organizations.  The foundation is unsure whether it should stay and invest, try to relocate or close down altogether.

Until the matter is sorted, those of us who are able will try to enjoy this lovely location for as long as we can.

Velvet and Amethyst

Almost exactly a year ago, Friend D was visiting.  As I was showing her around this area, we stopped in the lovely little village of Céligny, and found the cemetery where the great Welsh actor Richard Burton was buried in 1984, after spending his last years living in this area.  I described that visit in this post.

Two days ago, on Wednesday, Burton's ex-wife (twice), the beautiful Elizabeth Taylor, died in Los Angeles, where she had been hospitalized with symptoms of congestive heart failure for six weeks.  According to the local paper, there was speculation as to whether she would be buried here in Switzerland.  She is reported to have said, when she attended Burton's funeral in 1984, that she wished to be buried next to him.  Of course, later on, she stated that she would like to be buried next to Michael Jackson.  It is probably just as well that she had a change of heart.  Burton had originally purchased a plot for her next to his own.  It is reported that he ultimately cancelled the purchase.  No doubt such a threesome would not have been welcomed by Burton's widow.

All speculation ceased when it was reported today that her funeral, a small private service, took place yesterday and that she was buried in the cemetery where other screen greats such as James Stewart, Clark Gable, Errol Flynn, Humphrey Bogart and Spencer Tracy lie.  In the end, she was buried closer to Michael Jackson, who also has his last resting place there, than to Burton.  Note: the story linked to erroneously reports that Burton was buried in Wales.

Elizabeth Taylor was an cinematic icon of my youth.  Who can forget her as the beautiful, feisty Velvet Brown, who rides her gallant horse to win the Grand National in National Velvet and then is denied the prize because girls were not allowed to be jockeys?  She was barely 12 years old at the time.  Thus began one of the most tumultuous screen careers of the 20th century, both on- and off-screen.  Married eight times to seven different men (Burton counts twice in the marriage statistics), the black-haired amethyst-eyed beauty accumulated two Oscars for Best Actress.  Among her many movies, two of my personal favorites are Giant and Raintree County.  Both are movies that I like to watch over and over again.  Each time I see them, it renews for me the age I was and the era I experienced when I first saw them.

I remember the shock we all felt to hear of the sudden death of her third husband, Mike Todd, in a plane crash.  I also remember the deep disappointment so many of us felt when she turned to the married Eddie Fisher, husband of her erstwhile friend, Debbie Reynolds, for comfort.  Soon after that, she and the ill-fated Fisher went to Europe for the filming of Cleopatra, where she met Richard Burton.  And that was that.  Yes, there were a couple other husbands after Burton, but Burton looms largest.  For those who might be interested, here is an interesting blog post about the various homes she resided in with her various husbands.

Elizabeth's leaving Fisher and the United States for Burton and the Europe of her birth happened around the time - just a bit earlier - that I myself left the US for Morocco.  Her turbulent years with Burton spanned several of my own turbulent years, not nearly as headline-grabbing or public, but important to me.  When I returned to the US with HWMBO in 1982, it was to a Washington scene where she was married to a Republican Senator, an incongruous marriage at best, given her own activism for causes like AIDS, not at all dear to Republicans.

Part of my early fascination with her dealt with her regal name, "Elizabeth," one she shared with the current English monarch, as well as with the first Elizabeth, the great Queen Bess of the Renaissance, and my own mother.  Rest In Peace, Liz, Velvet and so many other characters to whom you gave life!  Your work will live on after you - and so will the memories!

Biking Woes 3

Keeping my fingers firmly crossed, I believe that the Tale of the Tire has been successfully concluded.  I sincerely hope that it is over.

My decision to leave the inner tube to deflate a bit was a wise one and did the trick.  Yesterday morning, I was able to finish rolling the tire edge under the rim.  Then I inflated the tire, replaced it on the bicycle, re-engaged the gears and reattached the brake cable.  I even took a short trial ride.

Alas, I had a new problem.  The brake pads were rubbing against the rim.  Not good.  This meant that a brake adjustment was called for.  I discovered, by the way, that my bicycle has Shimano cantilever brakes.  A week ago, I wouldn't have had a clue what a Shimano cantilever brake was.  I can't say that my knowledge has advanced immensely since then.  But at least I know what that sort of brake looks like.

Because I had arranged to meet a group of friends in Geneva for lunch, I decided to leave the bicycle to its own devices.  I spent a very pleasant afternoon visiting, catching up and admiring and/or playing with the little ones who came with their mothers.  The weather yesterday was absolutely glorious - as was today's.  In the meantime, workers had also arrived to repair my garage door.  Fortunately, all that was needed was an adjustment and their time and labor was covered by my service contract.  Apart from the bike problem, all was well with my world.

So, first thing this morning, I tackled the brake pads.  After consulting the ever helpful how-to videos and other instructions that Google fortunately is able to provide for those of us who need to know "how-to," I was able to adjust the brakes.  I then took a trial ride again.  It was an extremely short one.  All of a sudden, I had no tension whatsoever in my rear brake cable, which meant, of course, that those brakes were not working at all.  I was also startled to see that a small piece near the operational lever - I later learned that the missing piece is called the "adjuster" - had disappeared altogether.  I retraced my route twice, looking carefully, but could find no adjuster.  I returned to my worksite.  Again, nothing.  I resigned myself to having to purchase and fit a new brake cable and decided to have a cup of tea and ponder the situation.

In the meantime, HWMBO called me on Skype.  He wondered how my repair experiences were going.  He pulled up a "how-to" describing brake cable installation and I pointed out the missing adjuster.  At just about the same time, we both realized that the adjuster may simply have come loose and slipped down along the cable.

It was back to the bicycle again.  Sure enough, the adjuster had indeed simply slipped down.  When I slid it back up to its original position and tightened it, things looked promising.  But there was still no tension and the brake pads themselves didn't move at all.  This time I examined the cable line carefully and discovered that right about where the cable divides and is attached to each brake pad, the cable line had managed to slip out of a small pullley groove.  I gently worked the cable back into the groove and voilà, everything worked as it was supposed to.

Let's hope that all is well.  The weather has gotten much too pleasant not to be able to enjoy the outdoors.  Even my forsythia is nearly in full bloom!

Its cheery yellow flowers give a major lift to one's spirits!

Biking Woes 2

This photo was taken last weekend at one of the little benches out in the countryside that provide convenient resting and viewing spots for those of us who are walking or cycling through the area.  I am still hoping that I'll be able to be out and about with my trusty little cycle in the same area this coming weekend.

The Tale of the Tire continues.  It's not been a complete disaster so far.  With the assistance of the many DIY videos and instructions that the Internet provides, I was able to a) disconnect the brake cable; b) shift to the lowest gear and pull back the derailleur so that the chain was no longer attached to the gears; c) use the shift release and loosen the screws holding the wheel to the bike frame;, d) remove the wheel from the bike frame; e) loosen the tire from the rim of the frame; f) remove the inner tube from the tire and find the offending puncture; g) remove the tire from the rim; and h) thoroughly check the inside and outside of the tire itself to ensure that whatever caused the puncture was not still there.  In short, I was on a roll.  Of course, this particular "roll" had lasted about an hour.

Then I hit the first snag.  I put one side of the tire on the rim and, per instructions, tried to inflate the new inner tube partially, prior to inserting it into the tire.  My problem: the pump wouldn't work at all on the valve which was apparently a "Presto" valve.  The valve itself fit through the valve hole.  But without being able to inflate the inner tube, I would have major problems.  So I repackaged the new inner tube, pocketed my receipt, took the old inner tube (la chambre à air) with me - which is probably what I should have done in the first place - and returned to Jumbo, where I am practically becoming a fixture.  The young man in charge of the bicycle department has warmed up considerably since our first encounter.  Seeing such a persistent customer apparently raises hopes that someday the persistent customer may opt for an expensive bicycle.

I hate to burst his bubble, but that will happen only when this persistent customer wins the Lottery.  Ah well!

In the meantime, he examined my inner tube.  It was fortunate that my valve hadn't worked because the first inner tube that I had purchased was also a size too small.  So, he selected the right size with an "automatic" valve and I was able to exchange it for my former purchase.  I then returned home.  In accordance with the DIY instructions, I partially inflated the inner tube and gently pushed it into the tire.  The next step was to insert the outer edge of the tire under the rim.  It went well until there were about six inches left to push.

There was no way that I could push that final section under the rim.  I concluded that I must have inflated the inner tube too much.  After trying without success to get the extra air out, I left the cap off and resigned myself to going without a bike ride today.  By this time, almost two hours had passed since I had begun my efforts.  I checked on the tire again this afternoon and it was still impossible for me to get the final bit under the rim. 

I'll try again tomorrow.  I'm SO close to finishing this.  It's quite humbling to realize that bike racers can change their flat tires in a matter of minutes.  That CHF 70 per hour for bike repairs does not seem quite as outrageous right now as it first did.

Of course, right now, I also have a new problem - again a minor one in the grand scheme of things.  Now I can't get my automatic garage door to close.  I am not able to close it manually either for some reason.  Nuisances as my "problems" are, I am sure that those in Japan right now would love to trade theirs for mine.  What gracious courage they have shown!

Biking Woes

In the grand scheme of things with nuclear reactors breaking apart and all the human misery in Japan and with mad dictatorial tyrants being stymied from killing their own people wholesale - momentarily at least - my little biking woes are certainly not important.  Nonetheless, they are the ones that are impacting me most currently and directly. 

Having managed to replace my bicycle seat - and yes, it's working beautifully so far - I thought that my biking excursions would no longer pose a problem.  I was too optimistic.  This morning, as I approached Céligny-Gare, about 5k from home, I felt an ominous bumpety-bump.

Sure enough, my rear tire was rapidly going flat.  There was nothing to do but to dismount and walk the bike home, hoping that the tire wouldn't wear out on the way.  I guess it was time.  Both the tire and the inner tube, which is the likely culprit, have served me well for 20 years.  But now the challenge is how to change a tire.

Having learned from my last experience, I checked what expertise Google could offer me.  Sure enough, first there was this advice from Wikihow.  Then, there was this exellent video from Expert Village.  Unfortunately, the only problem with that video was that the demonstrator was changing the front tire.  Rear tires are somewhat more complicated.   Google didn't let me down.  This little video from Ehow showed me how to do remove the rear wheel.  Then I found another comprehensive description of changing a bicycle tire, this time without using the levers that all the other instructions had provided for.

I had the choice of repairing my inner tube or replacing it.  Considering its age, I decided to replace it.  The information that I found stressed that I had to use the right size inner tube, which meant that I had to measure my wheel and tire width.  Then there was a quick trip to my trusty Jumbo store to pick up the new inner tube, which set me back CHF 5.95.  That amount fell within the price ranges that I had seen on the Web so it seemed reasonable.  The only thing that I am worried about is whether I have the right kind of valve.  I never realized that bicycle inner tubes were quite as complex as they seem to be.

After I've run through my video tutorials and other information one more time tomorrow morning, I'll try to change the tire.  If I'm successful, you'll see it here!  If I'm not ... let's just say that I probably won't be trumpeting my failure.

Rising to the Challenge

From St. Patrick's Day last week to Saturday, March 19, Grandson Prince C and his team, the Robo-Lions, participated in one of the first robotics tournaments of the 2011 season: the 2011 Chesapeake Regional FRC Tournament.

HWMBO, justifiably proud of Prince C and his accomplishments, attended the events in Baltimore on Saturday and was thus able to witness the prowess of the Robo-Lions and their intrepid little robot "2199" firsthand.

Proud Dad Big B also forwarded a video news clip from the local Fox affiliate, which featured Prince C and his team.  Although I am not a fan of the national "Faux Noise" right-wing propaganda channel generally, their local news coverage can be decent, especially when they allow events to tell their own story, as in the clip.  It was fun to see our own family TV star!

HWMBO reports that the Robo-Lions, working in tandem with two other teams, did very well.  Their defeat came in the second tier of the competition when the teams had to compete with two robots rather than three (one was still rebooting when it was time to compete) against another set of teams with a fully-fleshed out group of three robots.  Even then, the Robo-Lion-alliance managed to achieve a respectable score of 85, which might have been a winning score in other competitions.  Unfortunately for them, however, the alliance against which they were pitted scored 115 points.   Having one less robot was clearly a determining factor.

But trusty little "2199" did very well even though the Robo-Lions did not win the competition this year.  Of the 60 robotics teams taking part in the tourney, the final ranking for the Robo-Lions was 18.  It's a young team and we all look forward to even greater achievements from them!

Back in the "Saddle" Again

Thursday morning, Friend J and I went grocery shopping together - her husband is currently on a work trip to the Far East - so I missed my early morning bike ride.  Upon returning from shopping and thinking that I might still take a quick jaunt, I was dismayed to discover that my bicycle seat (selle in French, which also means "saddle") was finally showing the wear and tear of the past 20 years.  Of course, my having taken a couple tumbles in the past couple weeks - more embarrassing and undignified than harmful - hadn't helped.

The damage was irreparable.  Unless I was willing to endure sharp nails in a very sensitive part of my anatomy as well as tear my bicycle shorts to shreds, it meant that I couldn't ride my bicycle at all until I had a new bicycle seat.

So I set off for my neighboring Jumbo DIY store, because in addition to all sorts of DIY items, it stocks bicycles and cycling gear at reasonable prices - reasonable for Switzerland, that is.  The prices would most likely seem hair-raising elsewhere.

Sure enough, I was able to find a new bicycle seat.  In the 20 years since I've last been in the market for one, I didn't realize what changes had occurred.  There are now specialized seats for women, as well as men, children and adolescents - racing seats, mountain bike seats, seats with gel padding (always nice to have extra, IMO), etc.  The choices were enough to make my head spin.  But I finally settled on a reasonably-priced women's 20 per cent gel seat that will serve for my everyday riding needs.  Arriving home with my new seat, however, I realized that I had absolutely no idea how to remove the old one and attach the new one.

I described my dilemma to HWMBO later on during one of our Skype conversations.  Usually, in such a situation, I would merely ask him to do it for me.  But since he is 3,000+ miles away right now, I needed to go to Plan B.  As always, he provided me with a suggestion by googling "how to change a bike seat" - with this result.   Unfortunately, this description was sparse, to say the least.  It was also not helpful because it instructed me to look for a nut and a bolt and to use a wrench.  Try as I might, I could find no evidence of a nut or bolt or anything for which a wrench would be appropriate.  On the same website, however, I found a much more helpful set of instructions, complete with video, under "How to Install a Bicycle Seat."

But now, the problem was that I needed a special tool.  I sifted through the many tools in HWMBO's trusty tool bucket.  The most promising were some of the special "keys" (Friend J calls them "Allen keys") that I have in various sizes courtesy of my many IKEA purchases.  As things turned out, however, none of the sizes that I had worked.  This meant another trip to Jumbo.

Once at Jumbo, I asked for help - reasonably it seemed to me - from the young man in charge of bicycles.   He determined that I was not worthy of his attention once he ascertained that a) I didn't want to purchase a new bicycle or b) I was not interested in having my bicycle repaired at a cost of CHF 70 per hour.  And yes, you read that figure correctly!  He merely waved me back to the tool department, saying something about a "machin 6" (roughly "thing-a-ma-jig 6") that should solve my problem.  So I hied myself to the tool department where I was quite simply and thoroughly lost before a seemingly endless wall of tools.  Fortunately, there was a gentleman there who looked very much as if he knew what was what.  So I explained my predicament to him.  He kindly pondered the situation, then chose a tool that I never would have selected in a million years.  He even walked back to the bicycle department to show me how to use it.

I have no idea what the "machin's" real name is.  Even the description on its tag (clef = key) hasn't enlightened me.  But it was quite reasonably-priced.  Best of all, it did the trick perfectly.  I had a very comfortable ride yesterday.  And I look forward to many more!

Irish Genes

St. Patrick's Day yesterday presented an opportunity to reflect on my family's Irish roots.  The oldest generation that I can remember was represented by my father's father, who was 100 per cent Irish.  The family of my paternal grandmother, however, was primarily descended from English roots, so my late father's Irish heritage was already substantially diluted.

That never presented a problem for him, however.  His surname was quintessentially Irish.  Even his first name, although not a common one, marked him indelibly as Irish.  For those who knew him, my father was the epitome of "Irish."

We who were his children also bore his surname.  We were always singled out as being of Irish heritage as a result.  This was a source of pride for us.  Indeed, two of my - much younger - sisters retained their maiden name after their marriages.  It was probably just as well because neither marriage lasted too long.  Even so, I wish that I had done so too. 

Retaining one's maiden name was not done as much among women when I married my first husband. For much of my early professional life, I was known by my first married surname and I kept that name even after the divorce. When I remarried, it would have seemed churlish not to change surnames, when I had already done so once. I have retained my maiden name officially on my passport, MD driver's license and many other official documents, in addition to the married surname I have borne for nearly 30 years. But it is almost as if I have been several different persons. Each life has certainly been different.

Because our mother's heritage did not include Irish ancestors - that we know of - the actual quantity of Irish heritage for each of us siblings is a mere quarter.  For my sons, it has been diluted to barely one-eighth because their father has no Irish ancestors whatsoever. 

My granddaughter Princess Butterfly likely received a small influx of Celtic genes from her maternal grandfather's family that may have strengthened her Irish heritage.  But my grandsons, Princes Tyger and Attani, have a mere one-sixteenth of the original Irish.  That has certainly not kept any grandchildren from celebrating their Irish heritage for St. Pat's, as did Prince Tyger two years ago.

But the latest standard bearer for our little Irish "dynasty" is the youngest member, my grand niece Princess Jelly Bean, sporting her St. Patrick's Day regalia yesterday.

And no matter how small the actual amount of genes, the Irish twinkle lives on in this youngest generation!      

Celebrating St. Paddy's

Today, 17 March is the one day when all good people of the world who wish so can be considered to be Irish whether they actually have Irish roots or not.  Yes, it is once again the festival of good St. Patrick.  Patrick, who is considered to be the most widely recognized patron saint of Ireland, wasn't even Irish himself, so why quibble about origins?  It's a good day to celebrate life, which does need some celebrating during these otherwise doleful days.

If you were in Geneva, you could celebrate at an Irish-style pub, such as Mulligan's or Charly O'Neill's.  There are many Irish expatriates who live in this area.

If you chose to eat at Mulligan's, you would find smoked salmon with brown bread followed by Irish stew on the menu.  It would set you back CHF 20.  You would not generally find corned beef and cabbage on an Irish pub menu here.  That appears to be more of a North American, specifically United States, tradition.  To go with your Irish meal, you should drink either Guinness or Kilkenny.  If you're pressed, any good beer will do.  But a traditional Irish beer is always the best!

Whatever you do, enjoy!

Hints of Spring ... one hopes

In recent days, tentative signs of winter's passing are beginning to appear.  One of the most obvious is the temperature.  After my arrival in February, it had consistently been the warmest of the past three years.  Then, during the last days of February, it suddenly plunged and became the coldest.  Since March's arrival, however, the trend has reversed itself.   For the past few days, the daily temperature has begun soaring to the point where this year is once again the warmest.  Thus, Rue Froide (Cold Street) in my village's bourg (Old Town) no longer has the same effect of dread.

Two days ago, the sun was shining and the sky was blue, not the milky haze that we seen so often.  The weather was absolutely glorious. It was one of those days when it is very difficult to imagine anywhere in the world that is more beautiful.  I could almost feel the plants on my terrace beginning to burgeon.  Indeed, since then, my forsythia, with its exuberantly yellow buds, has begun to blossom.  Even the lavender that I cut back last fall in the hope that it will flourish is sending forth small shoots of green.  I wandered down to the lake shore to visit the beach, now deserted, that will be crowded during the hot days of summer.

We who are here are so incredibly fortunate.  We are not those public employees whose unions are being targeted by right-wing zealots.  We are not those terrified civilians in Libya, whose hopes for better lives are being bombed into rubble while the West dithers unforgivably about something so basic as establishing a no-fly zone.  We are not those terrifed victims in Japan, whose mourning period for lost loved ones has barely begun.  Even worse, the dread of what could happen with the damaged nuclear reactors that once provided them with so many necessities and facilitators of modern life hangs over their lives.  And not only theirs.

The controversy over the development and use of nuclear energy is once again reignited.  There is too little being done to develop energy sources other than those that are fossil-fuel or nuclear based.  This will continue so long as our world is dominated by those who seek power and profit for themselves and who care too little about the world around them or the people in it that they harm in their selfish quests.

At the same time, there is reason to believe that all is not lost.  We finally see stirrings of revival and unity among fractured union movements in the United States.  Recall efforts to rid local governments of the most flagrantly selfish and hypocritical politicians and legislators are also being successfully mounted there.  This is happening there even though the so-called "Mainstream Media" has remained deafeningly silent throughout.  The rebels in Libya know that their cause is a just one - even though the West that purports to support them and offers no to little assistance temporizes.  The tyrant will ultimately fall.  And the people of Japan who survived the two most deliberately awful bombing attacks in 1945 that this world has ever known will provide us all with lessons in how to survive this latest catastophic debacle.

Celebrating New Life

Last week, I visited a good friend in Geneva, Sweet Momma I, who had just given birth to her third daughter, Princess C.  Princess C and her older sisters, Princesses L and E, are all beautiful, healthy and intelligent children.  They are very much loved by their proud parents and other family members.

But it took a lot of effort, patience and modern technology - for them to be here at all.

All three girls are happy results of in vitro fertilization (IVF), where eggs are removed from the woman's ovaries, fertilized by sperm in a fluid medium and then transferred back to the uterus so that the fertilized egg can grow and develop normally, hopefully to become a living baby.  This technique first succeeded in 1978, with the birth of Louise Brown, the first "test tube baby."  Since then, IVF has enabled couples to become parents who would otherwise have remained childless unless they were able to adopt.  In 2010, Dr. Robert G. Edwards, who, working with others, successfully pioneered the treatment, was awarded the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine. 

So this was not only a visit to a special friend, but also a tribute to her steadfast determination and perseverance.   All three girls were born in this tranquil clinic.

I visited with two other friends and former colleagues.  Sweet Momma E has a daughter of her own, just a couple weeks younger than my very special Prince Tyger.

While Sweet Friend H does not have children of her own, as one of nine siblings, she is an aunt who is much in demand..  It is clear that both are accustomed to babies!

Best of all, Sweet Momma I also made it through this delivery well, was in fine form and delighted to welcome her visitors.

Having a third daughter necessitated the purchase of a new family car: a VW Sharan.  Their former vehicle was simply not large enough for the three carseats that three precious little girls - aged almost 4, 1.5 and less than one month respectively, require.

Exercising the right to vote

Today is Election Day here in Switzerland.  It is also the first opportunity that I have ever had to vote here.  Granted that right is limited to the local level and only to the elections for those officials who govern the place where I live.  But still, as a foreign national  living here legally for the prescribed number of years, I have a right to vote in these local elections.  I do not believe that Green Card holders have an equivalent right to vote in the US.

I received a package of voting materials earlier, as described here.  I did some research on the candidates and ultimately was able to enumerate candidates of my choice.  I can only hope that I have chosen well - as we all do after we have voted.

The process has been a little more confusing that it should have been, or at least it was for me.  When I went to the polling station (local de vote) this morning around 10 am, I was surprised to see no one in attendance.  There was merely a little slot labelled "Votations" into which I should slip the envelope containing my duly marked ballots.  But that presented a logistical problem.  I had received a separate voting card, where I was supposed to provide my full date of birth and then sign.  I had also been instructed not to put the voting card in the voting envelope, which made sense in a secret ballot situation.  But, if there was no one there to check me, how could they know that my ballot was indeed accompanied by the voting card?

I was presented with a dilemma.  Fortunately, right then, a gentleman walked in and slid his own voting envelope into the slot.  So I greeted him, and asked what I should do.  He asked me whether I had kept the envelope in which I had received my voting materials.  I said that I hadn't.  He shook his head.  I could literally see the thought, "Oh, these foreigners!" running through his head.  He explained that the proper procedure is to seal the envelope containing the ballots, sign the voting card, put everything back into the original envelope, and then submit the package together.  Failing that, I could either a) get a different envelope and put everything into it or b) return at 11 am when the polling station would have officials in attendance.

As he explained this to me, two other persons came in and seemed as surprised as I that there were no officials present.  Neither one had his original envelope with him.  Both were as stumped as I, which lessened my own embarrassment somewhat.  So the gentleman who knew what should be done explained it all again.  We each elected to get a different envelope so that we could get on with our day rather than waiting until 11 am.

Switzerland was the last Western republic to grant women the right to vote.  Although women in some cantons received the right to vote after 1959, women here did not universally have that right until 1971.   I personally prize that right and am happy to have exercised that right today both as a woman - and as a foreign national.

Blowing in the wind

Friday morning, like so many around this shared globe, I arose to news of a devastating earthquake and subsequent tsunami in Japan.   Once again, we are reminded that Mother Nature can never be taken for granted.  Every so often, this Earth that can on one hand be so incredibly beautiful shows us that it has an equally awesome power to be even more destructive in one fell swoop than mankind at its worst.  And that takes some doing.

So, while an insane and criminal tyrant such as al-Gaddafi massacres his own people and the European Union and the United States dither about enforcing no-fly zones to protect civilians - which would seem to be a no-brainer in the circumstances - our Earth decided to make its own unhappiness felt in spectacular fashion.  Unfortunately, rather than deservedly wreaking havoc on al-Gaddafi, the wrath of natural forces fell upon the unassuming Japanese.  Estimates so far are that some 10,000 people may have been killed.  Whole towns have been wiped off the map and more than a million people are without water or power.  Alarmingly, two nuclear reactors situated in Japan have been crippled.  Officials are working desperately to prevent explosions there that could release nuclear material into the wind.  To spread to us all.

There is literally nothing that I can do at present here other than to contribute to relief agencies.  I would love to take part physically in attempts to assist, but right now am only able to help fund such efforts.  In a sense of kindred spirit, I walked down to the Lake Geneva shore on Friday afternoon to gaze through the haze across the lake's gently rippling waters where gulls were floating on the waves and ponder how the same water that gives life and sustenance to us all can take that life and sustenance away in seconds.

My heart and prayers go out to all those who are affected and the families and friends who love them and are waiting desperately for news.  It is not hyperbolic to describe this happening as a disaster of epic proportions.  If anything, that is an understatement.  As the Japanese Prime Minister has said, "The earthquake, tsunami and the nuclear incident have been the biggest crisis Japan has encountered in the 65 years since the end of World War II."

To belabor the obvious, it will be a very long time before this crisis is sorted.

Women in Geneva's History

One event in Geneva that commemorated International Women's Day yesterday was organized by a group called Genève Escapade.  The name refers to an association of guides, all former students of history, art and cultural heritage courses at the University of  Geneva.

Through organizing traditional guided tours and special themed visits of Geneva, the association attempts to share its enthusiasm and strong attachment to Geneva, as well as to help publicize the beauty, cultural wealth and history - both of the city and the wider Geneva region.  Its tours feature Geneva's architecture, parks, museums, markets, bistrots, international organizations based in Geneva ... and lots more.  In addition to the tours and presentations, the association can also organize special events, regional food and wine tasting, and visits throughout Geneva Canton as well as in other regions of French-speaking Switzerland (la Suisse romande).

For yesterday's event, the association led special tours of Geneva's Vieille Ville that focused on women who have featured in Geneva's history.  One of these was Michée Chauderon, who was the last woman executed in Geneva for witchcraft.  From 1520 to 1681, during one of Geneva's very dark periods, 340 people were put on trial for sorcery; 150 were executed.  Ms Chauderon died in 1652.  She was the last person to be executed for witchcraft in Geneva.  She was not the last person to be executed as a witch in Switzerland; that dubious distinction has been left to Anna Göldi, who was executed in 1782.  Technically, Anna Göldi was executed for poisoning rather than witchcraft.

Ms Chauderon's execution was conducted with zealous overkill.   Evidently there was some doubt that she was a witch.  Rather than giving her any benefit because of that doubt, she was tortured severely, then hung until she strangled to death before she was burned.   Her real crime seems to have been that she was merely a poor widow washerwoman of little status, who was considered socially deviant and sexually promiscuous.

Other women featured in the tour were sisters Jeanne-Françoise and Henriette Rath, who were the creators of the Rath Museum, the first Swiss museum to be devoted to the fine arts and inaugurated in 1826.  Another early woman mentioned was Genevan Protestant reformer and theologian Marie Dentière, formerly a Catholic nun who converted to Protestantism, married a former priest and - especially - provided a uniquely outspoken feminine perspective in the rapidly changing world of the Reformation.  She was intensely disliked by Calvin and other Protestant leaders in Geneva, in part because she was so outspoken.  Plus ça change ..., I'm afraid. 

Women were allowed to study at the University of Geneva from 1872 on.  But the first women who studied there were all from foreign countries.  The first Genevan woman to attend courses at the University of Geneva was Marguerite Champendal, who studied medicine and became a doctor.  But she entered the University some 30 years after it first opened to women.  This late start was due primarily to the fact that Genevan secondary schools for girls did not offer courses, namely Latin, that would allow girls to matriculate at a university.

It was refreshing to read about these women and their role in Geneva's history.  Several Genevan women are prominent in Swiss politics today, both at local and federal levels.  The current President of the Swiss Confederation is a woman from Suisse Romande who was also a politician in Geneva, Micheline Calmy-Rey.  She has always been one of the most approachable and accessible of Swiss politicians.

Centennial - well, almost - but still a LONG way to go!

Today, March 8, marks the observance of International Women's Day (IWD).  It was originally known as International Working Women's Day, begun as a socialist celebration in 1911, influenced by rapid world industrialialization that included women in the work force in growing numbers.  The resulting economic expansion led women to join men in protesting against inhumane working conditions.

The first IWD was observed on 19 March 1911 in Germany, so technically, we have not quite arrived at the Centennial date.  But 8 March is now the date of observance.  For some countries, it is a national holiday.  The site that describes activities being held all around the world is International Women's Day 2011.  For whatever reason (malicious hacker attacks are suspected), the site has been down intermittently throughout the day. 

The background and timeline of events leading to IWD as it is celebrated today can be found here.  Thousands of events have been and are being held throughout the world today to inspire women and celebrate achievements. A global web of rich and diverse local activity connects women from all around the world ranging from political rallies, business conferences, government activities and networking events through to local women's craft markets, theatric performances, fashion parades and more.  For the United Nations, this year's theme is "Equal access to education, training and science and technology: Pathway to decent work for women."  The IWD site clarifies that, whatever the umbrella "global" theme may be, each participating country and group may choose a theme appropriate to its perceived requirements; it lists selected themes here.  

In the United States, for example, President Obama proclaimed the whole month of March 2011 to be "Women's History Month," calling Americans to mark IWD by reflecting on "the extraordinary accomplishments of women" in shaping the country's history.

When HWMBO lived in Switzerland full-time, he volunteered services as an extremely versatile network engineer to non-governmental organizations (NGOs) located in Geneva, among them the World YWCA.  As part of his volunteer activities, he was able to assist on the spot with technical matters for international women's conferences in Cairo (Egypt), Nairobi (Kenya), Brisbane (Australia), Dakar (Senegal), and Georgetown (Guyana), to name some.  He was able to see much more of the world than I!   His consciousness was thoroughly raised when he was able to see firsthand what conditions, prejudices and circumstance, often socially, politically and economically debilitating, that women - still - face around the world. 

It's a real shame that so many others have not had the same kind of enlightening experiences.  In my own country even today, right-wing politicians are practically conducting all-out war on women's reproductive choices.  Canadian author Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale is all too eerily prescient, I'm afraid.

Preparing for Lent

Over the weekend, in part to distract from news footage devoted to the strife and bloodshed in Libya, where brutal - and insane - dictator Muammar al-Gaddafi is proving his inhumanity and unfitness to be a leader daily, we were treated to reports about Carnival celebrations throughout Switzerland.  Tomorrow marks Mardi Gras ("Fat Tuesday"), traditionally the end of Carnival celebrations around the world.   Things in Switzerland can get more complicated.

Yes, some Carnival celebrations, notably in Lucerne and Fribourg, occurred over the past weekend and will thus be complete before Ash Wednesday.  But elsewhere in Switzerland, including Basel, Bern and Zurich, Carnival's last gasp only occurs after Ash Wednesday.  We will thus be treated to more Carnival coverage over the next weekend.

Not that I'm complaining ... I love these colorful celebrations!

They don't celebrate Carnival in Geneva or in Vaud, where I live.  Carnival celebrations are a tradition in predominantly Catholic areas.  Since the Reformation in the 16th century, Geneva and Vaud have traditionally been predominantly Protestant.  That does not mean that sizable populations of other religions, including non-Christian religions, do not successfully and peacefully co-exist - despite deliberately provocative actions like voting against minarets, etc. - with whichever Christian faction is dominant; it merely means that certain regions of Switzerland have traditions that the others do not.

So far as I am concerned, vive la différence!  

Relearning the Network

It's been a long time since I've been a regular customer on the truly excellent public transit systems there are in Switzerland.  I used the system in Geneva quite a lot during our first year here.  Since that time, however, we moved outside Geneva City.  It has become too convenient to hop into my vehicle to run errands.  For some errands, that convenience will not change.  But, now that my life is no longer delineated by the routines, schedules and deadlines of the workplace, I am determined to relearn and use the system.  Even if for no reason other than that I must be able to explain it to others.

After all, my young niece and a friend - both university students - will be staying with me this summer while they attend French courses at the University of Geneva.  In order for them to get the full benefit of their summer abroad, as well as to gain self-confidence and earn themselves some autonomy, they should use the public transit system.  I'll help to get them oriented, of course, and we can make a couple "dry runs" (HWMBO's tried and true techniques) before they begin to take classes.  But the experience will ultimately be most meaningful for them when they can use the system themselves without having an older person constantly watching over their shoulders, however well-intentioned that person may be.

So today, on the occasion of a visit to a friend and former colleague while she was recuperating at a local clinic, I took the train from my little village into Geneva's main train station, Cornavin.   Here's the little local gare:

I was delighted to discover that I was not the only train neophyte today.  Several others who have gotten more dependent on their vehicles over the years were also taking the train to visit the Motor Show.  We all had exactly the same questions but we had only ourselves to learn from.  It was somewhat like the blind leading the blind.  But ultimately all of us did manage to buy tickets and board the train.  Our train is just coming into view around the bend.  There is another train already stopped at the station, and it's also a train to Geneva.  But the train I took was the Express: nine minutes versus 29!

And, as predicted, nine minutes later, we disembarked at Cornavin.

Here is Cornavin's main entrance.

There are - almost - as many bicycles here as I remember seeing in Amsterdam.

From Cornavin, I went in search of the tram that would get me to my destination.

 
The system worked marvelously! I avoided the troublesome traffic attendant on the Motor Show.  I also avoided parking fees.  I enjoyed the ride, got to my visit in good time, and even returned home in a relaxed state.

I look forward to the next experience!