Author: Claire

Reasons to be Cautious…

Me in pre-Facebook days

Since moving here, I’ve joined an online English-Speaking Parents in Switzerland group that hosts some interesting discussions. Most stuff is child-related, obviously, but child-related is life-related after all.

There was a recent thread about posting pictures of your children online, kicked off by someone saying a childless friend had posted pictures of her kids online without permission, which generated much food for thought for me. I have a few different, conflicting issues with posting pics of my kids (and others posting, and posting pics of other’s kids) online. And because I had unexpectedly lots to say on the matter, I decided to turn it into a blog post.

Reasons to be cautious about posting pictures of children online:

1. Consent – the children have no say in it.

2. Safety – there’s a lot of whacky types online. I hate to check into paedo paranoia, but there are some sickos out there. I don’t know what they look for. Shudder to think. So you want to be careful. That said, however, I would also suggest that this falls into the “critical mass” category of safety. Eg: in UK you probably wouldn’t let your kids walk to school cos no one else does and so if the unthinkable were to happen, your one child walking alone would be an obvious target. Here in Switzerland, mostly all kids walk to school and there’s safety in numbers. Pics of kids online has reached critical mass IMO so you’d be unlucky (as opposed to shame on you) if something dodgy happened.

3. Privacy – a bit like consent, we grew up with pretty much just our close friends and family seeing a few select photos of us. How weird will it be for our kids and their friends to go online and see their whole lives documented? However,  I’m a bit torn here because with family and friends across the world, Facebook is an excellent way to share pics and info. However, I do have privacy settings on photos so they’re only seen by people I actually know well, eg: friends I’d invite to my house for cake.

4. Cyber bullying and identify theft are real and do happen. If I was an ID thief I reckon a great source would be all the “Belinda Mary Reynolds born 18.11.2013* mum and bub doing well” announcements!  I have no idea if my fears are valid and maybe I’m too paranoid. This is not just an online issue. When I edited my local NCT magazine in London, I would only put the month but not the actual date for birth announcements. Again, I have no idea if this was warranted, but it seemed better to err on the side of caution. Cyber bullying is more of an issue for tweens and teens where I think the 3. Privacy issues are relevant, plus see 6. Setting an Example, below.

5. Ownership – FB might own the crunched down version of pics on its site but if you hold the original, it’s still yours too, right? Is this a statutory rights thing? I’m not a lawyer… Also there’d be an uproar and lawsuits if people’s pics did start appearing in ads or unsolicited places so I don’t think one should panic. Then again, FB is a free service which means as users we don’t really have much power or any binding contract with the company re: our data, so that’s something to consider. Come to think of it, so is this blog… maybe I should start paying a bit of money to (hopefully) ensure I own some rights to my content here!

6. Setting an example – our kids are going to grow up in a very different world than we did in terms of social media and “connectedness”. I’d like to think that my online behaviour sets a reasonable example for what is appropriate for them to do. Of course, they will end up doing whatever the f&ck they want and/or what their silly friends are doing anyway – for a while… but eventually I’d hope they’d be sensible. I guess it’s a bit like drug taking. I hope they’d talk to me about the consequences and would take my experience (ahem) and advice on board. At least a little bit!

In conclusion, I don’t know what is right. I try to limit the amount of pics I put in the public domain and I have a bunch of privacy settings on my Facebook as I mentioned above. I may be overly cautious but I see this as a better safe than sorry situation. For the record, I should also state that all this is just my opinion. I don’t write this to preach to anyone or suggest you should do what I do. Then again, when I read stories like this one, I wonder if perhaps I am not careful enough! And then there’s this father making arty pics of his naked daughter. Hmm. What do you think?

*a made-up name and date – any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The pursuit of perfection

Hot wheels or hot heels… you get what you’re given

Last week, we found out we’re having another boy. I don’t plan on having any more children after this one, so right now I feel a bit disappointed. I was 90% sure it was a girl. Which would have made the perfect little family.

My disappointment in not “achieving” perfection here, and the headline of this blog, takes me back several years to when I used to edit a customer magazine for a semi-luxury car company, the tagline of which was The Pursuit of Perfection (er, not Lamborghini by the way!). The job made me unhappy for many reasons that I won’t detail now. Suffice to say, it was during my employment there that I first sought help for clinical depression. At that time, I was passed to a rather young, freshly qualified and enthusiastic NHS counsellor with pale pink hair who helped me in two valuable ways. One was putting me onto an online Cognative Behavioural Therapy programme (MoodGym) and the other was her “diagnosis” of me as a perfectionist.

Perfection – I scoffed at the time – was something I absolutely did not seek. I’d worked in publishing too long to be an adherent of ‘perfection’ – that way lies missed deadlines, endless do-overs and disappointment. Near enough is good enough: do it well, proof it, fix it, proof it again, sign it off, ship it to print and move on! Bear with me, she said, and take home this document, read it and see what you think. I did and she was right. Perfectionism in psychological terms is not always trying to be “perfect” per se, according to http://www.cci.health.wa.gov.au/ it is:

1. The relentless striving for extremely high standards (for yourself and/or others) that are
personally demanding, in the context of the individual. (Typically, to an outsider the standards are
considered to be unreasonable given the circumstances.)
2. Judging your self-worth based largely on your ability to strive for and achieve such
unrelenting standards.
3. Experiencing negative consequences of setting such demanding standards, yet continuing
to go for them despite the huge cost to you.

I am not going to comment on whether the car company I worked for achieved this goal but for myself, I was glad to recognise and acknowledge these traits and try to work on them. However, like depression, I’ve found perfectionism can rear its head at various times life and screw around with you. And I guess now is one of those times…

I have been thinking about the fact I’m carrying a boy for a few days now and I guess I can only describe it as thus: I feel like people will judge me as though it was a choice I made. “Oh, you wanted a 2-boy family.” When my choice would have been to have one of each. And I know that’s stupid, and selfish and anal and stuff but there you have it. Of course the main thing is he’s healthy and I’m healthy. There are people out there desperate to conceive, or with rafts of other baby- and child-related problems, and I truly am grateful we’re all healthy so I really should shut up. I will love the kid and I will get over this. But if you’ll indulge my wallowing and justifications for a moment or two?

So: I am a girl. And one who enjoys dressing up, shopping and vanity things. And it would have been so nice to have a female child to do this kind of  typical girl stuff with. Plus, in general, when they become adults, women are better at staying in touch, remembering birthdays, helping to tidy up after a dinner party, all that stupid stereotypical shit that perhaps shouldn’t matter but of course it does. (And I know I’m getting about 20 years ahead of myself, but these are some of the conclusions I jump to).

Also, it means I will never have a daughter who has a baby so I can go through the pregnancy with her and tell her what it was like for me, etc.  BUT – this is all a bit silly. Who’s to say that even if I did have a daughter that she would be any of those things? Or that I will “miss out” in any way? For example, I was at a 3 year old’s birthday party the other day and the mother-in-law (MiL) was just lovely and obviously very involved with the family of her son (her only child). In fact she reminded me of my own wonderful MiL (who I know reads this blog, hi Avril!), who has given me some fantastic motherly advice over the years and been very involved with P’s life as well as in the lives of the children of her other son (she also has a daughter, but her daughter has not had children so there’s no guarantees of that “shared motherhood” experience anyway!) . I would hope to do the same for my son’s partners one day. Assuming they have them. Because my son/s might be gay, or not have kids, or be perpetually single, or anything. And that is also fine.

So I guess it kinda comes back to this weird feeling of no choice, or the wrong choice somehow. It’s like – everything else in your life you basically get to decide on (if you’re a privileged WASP like me): where you live, your tertiary education and/or career, if/who you marry, what you wear, the stuff you have – from the car you’re driving to the handbag you carry to how you decorate your home. And while I might not love the fact, it all signifies stuff about you. And I guess I feel like the outside trappings of my life are all fairly well curated. I’m happy with them and the impression that I give off and, yes, I do think about it a fair bit (does that make me a pyscho?!)  But this, well, it’s not my choice – the way it will be reflected on me feels like it doesn’t quite fit. So I feel a bit sad and, if I’m brutally honest, slightly embarrassed? Like people will whisper: “oops, unfortunate, was that on purpose?!” God that’s awful. But that’s why I wanted to write about it – get it out there, see how ridiculous I’m being.

I went online and read a few forums and stuff about this topic. One commenter had a really nice suggestion which was: enjoy your sons and if you feel the urge, just go and buy that frilly dress and donate it to a child in need. I like this idea. Besides, many of my close friends have girls, and I have two nieces. Being “cool Aunty Claire” to them should surely be almost as satisfying! Plus I won’t get the growing-up girl tantrums (when I think how horrible I was to my mum at some points in my life, agh), I won’t have to deal as directly with all the horrid over-sexualisation that’s shoved in girls’ faces as they grow up (although I will make damn sure my boys respect women and join the feminist fight), and selfish, vain old me will never have to “compete” against a fresh, younger version.

I am glad we found out though. I wouldn’t want to deal with these feelings on top of the “baby blues” a few days after the birth. And I know I’ll get over it. But right now, I am a bit sad and, for a perfectionist like me, it’s tough to bid goodbye to what I thought my family “should” be.

Achtung

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I just wanted to write a quick blog to say I’m feeling a bit better and to thank everyone who got in touch to check in on me after the previous entry (and in relation to past entries too). I really appreciate it, thankyou. I am so lucky to have such awesome friends and family scattered across the globe 🙂

So, on a lighter note, here’s some photos of funny stuff I’ve seen around Zurich.

What’s My Scene

And another thing, I’ve been wondering lately

Am I crazy

To believe in ideals?

I’m a betting man, but it’s getting damn lonely

Oh honey, if only

I was sure what I feel…

 

I spent half of the afternoon putting away old, non-maternity clothes. They seem like outfits from another life. Much of it is office wear. I don’t know if I’ll ever put those things on again. Some of it is clothes I bought in Australia more than eight years ago. Is it time to let that stuff go too? For good?

Since coming back from London 2 days ago, I’ve felt unfortunately adrift. I don’t know what I’m doing here – I’ve got no connection to this country with its foreign language I might not ever properly learn. We are trying to potty-train P and I don’t even know how to have the conversation with his Swiss-German carers at the kinderkrippe. Then there’s the stupid heath insurance (don’t get me started), the crazy-expensive everything. The slightly different culture that, while it doesn’t exactly grate, just rubs, giving a slight feel of unease, creating sore spots in unexpected places.

I read an article about Peaches Geldof’s death from a heroin overdose and it was upsetting. Maybe it was an accidental OD. But if two little children and all the trappings of a “very nice life” could not keep her tethered to it, could not solve the emptiness inside, the destructive urge for Something to fill that hole in the soul… Poor Peaches. I sort of understand, you see? And that’s worrying.

There was a lot of talk among my friends in London about the demise of the goth/alternative scene. A festival got cancelled and it seems to have been the catalyst for several people to say ‘over and out’ on the whole shebang. I “retired” as a goth several years back now but it still makes me a bit sad. One less thing to return to, to be involved with, albeit marginally.

I also read about funding being cut for women’s refuges in the UK, and I know similar is happening back in Australia. Along with a raft of other benefits cuts, the way the First World is treating refugees etc, that’s more upsetting. These are people that really need help – people without anything like the resources of those such as myself and Peaches bloody Geldof. What is the world coming to when we are edging the most vulnerable people in our societies ever closer to misery, destitution and even, in extreme cases, death?

Before I moved here, I was very concerned about feeling lonely, isolated, and poor, with a lack of occupation. And all those things have come to pass. I thought I’d shored up some safeguards against it, mainly to do with indulging my creativity. But I’ve found I feel too empty to write much. And I still don’t have that One Great Idea to spark into a novel. So I’m stuck tapping out the occasional blog and spending too much time on Facebook. It doesn’t feel like there’s any place for me right now. What’s my scene?

 

 

 

Zurich on a Sunday

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It’s very quiet in central Zurich on a Sunday. Especially if you’re out early, as I was this weekend. Around the lake, there’s a bit of activity. A few tourist buses, people catching ferries, joggers, dog walkers and a few people fishing.

I had a wander around the top of the lake on the Enge side – the West side of the Zurichsee, also known as the Silver Coast. I haven’t really been over there before. It’s a bit quieter and more residential than the opposite bank – the Gold Coast. But there’s Seebads (lake swimming areas) and rowing clubs on both sides. And nice looking restaurants / sail club type places too.

I didn’t go very far though, because I had spotted something interesting to explore at the top of the lake. A little estuary that weaves its way through central Zurich. It’s called the Schanzengraben – and a quick bout of internet research tells me it’s actually an ancient moat – part of the city’s fortifications dating from 1642.

Nowadays it’s a very quiet spot – a clear green stream rushing smoothly through town. Walkways on both sides (mostly) that dip down to below water-level underneath some of the bridges, so you’re walking shoulder to shoulder with the flow. Some bits have a wooden boardwalk or smooth stone walkway that’s almost at the same level as the water. Because it’s Switzerland, there’s no fence or anything.

I didn’t see many other people – a few dog walkers and a couple of lost-looking Japanese toursists. All the shops in Zurich are closed on Sundays, which means Bahnhofstrasse goes from one of the most expensive retail strips in the world to a ghost town. As for foliage-clad 17th century moats nearby… they’re even emptier.

I didn’t really know where I was going but I knew the general direction. And I’ve seen the top of the river Sihl from the train so I guessed I’d come out somewhere familiar. And I did, one block away from the Hauptbahnhof.

A very pleasant morning’s walk.

So long slackers!

My homemade cupcakes

Today was the last lesson in my “slacker” German class before Sommerferien (Summer Hols). I was planning to write a short profile of my fellow students anyway, and today we had a little farewell party where we brought food and sat around chatting. I found out more about most of them than I had in the previous six months!

I think I’ve mentioned what an international group it is. We started off with about 18 students but have dwindled to about ten… so, not meaning to be offensive in any way… here goes!

Ms Bulgaria – Looks like a cliche “eastern European” with stripper shoes, tight sparkly jeans, loads of makeup, big hair, fake nails with designs and diamantes (I’m jealous), possibly a boob job. I actually wondered if she was a prostitute for a while, but I don’t think that now. She is a singer – not sure if professionally or not (must look out for her on future Eurovisions!). Speaks v decent English and is pretty diligent with the German. Not a slacker.

Ms Croatia – Sits next to me. Scrappy and a bit tough. A real talker, if not much of a written-word sort of lady. She reminds me of some people I’ve known through the years, seems like she’d be fun to get drunk with. Has a son around P’s age and another one who’s much older (in his teens). Works in a shop I think. I like her. Although she sometimes seems slightly insane and Ms Somalia inferred/asked me once if I thought Ms Croatia had a drinking problem?! A bit of a slacker.

Ms England – Nice girl from Nottingham. She rides horses and is quite sporty with pilates classes, walking up mountains etc. on weekends. Works as a nanny for a Swiss family with two girls aged 6 and 8 (who she says “hate her speaking German” and ask her not to do it in front of their friends because it’s so embarrassing!) I targeted her early as a native English speaker and we exchange homework/notes if one of us misses class. Not a slacker.

Ms Algeria – I always thought she was a bit snippy. She’s one of the younger ones in the class (22?) and doesn’t speak English, which must be a bit difficult (she speaks good French and Arabic). But today she said her husband has told her “no babies until you learn Deutsch!” which made me angry and sorry for her. Also that she’s doing school/uni here studying mathematics and all sorts, which is impressive. Not a slacker.

Ms Sri Lanka – This lady is really lovely. And pretty good at German. She has young kids and wears a headscarf. I asked her if she was not eating today for Ramadan but she said there’s no fasting when you’re menstrurating. Good timing! Not a slacker.

Ms India – Don’t know much about her, she’s pretty good at the Deutsch. Is Hindu so doesn’t eat meat (Ms Sri Lanka made vegi samosas for this reason, sweet). She said she’s not continuing the class because she’s going back to Bangalore for 2 months for her brother’s wedding and then her husband says no more classes. Didn’t quite get the full story on this – if it’s financial, or he doesn’t want her to study, or to learn elsewhere or what. Not a slacker.

Ms Eritrea – I really like this girl. She’s also pretty young – early 20s I would say – and has children (one at least, more? not sure). She’s savvy and a bit gangsta in that she wears mull-leaf leggings, Lady Gaga T-shirts and a leather jacket (fake, I think, but who am I to talk with my Topshop model?!) I thought she was one of the queen slackers, but today she revealed that her husband laughs at her whenever she attempts to speak German or even gets out her homework book at home so she “gets nervous” and doesn’t do it. Fucking hell. What’s with these husbands?! A slacker, but with extenuating circumstances.

Ms Somalia – Sits near me. Didn’t know how to tell time on an analogue watch/clock – I said “dude, you’re in Switzerland!” Next class, she had a watch and asked me to set it for her and show her the ropes. She also took great interest in my German-English dictionary. Surely she has seen a dictionary before? I dunno. Plus there’s a funny relationship going on between her and Ms Croatia that I can’t quite work out. Not quite sure what to make of her. A bit of a slacker.

Ms Switzerland (the teacher) – She’s a funny lady with a somewhat whiney tone of voice that does her no favours. She is actually quite nice and friendly but I find her a bit small minded somehow. Eg: she gives us these needlessly fiddly little games to play, that I’m not sure really help us learn. Oh well…

Ms Australia – That’s me.

Absent today:

Ms Turkey – Reserved mum of three (or was it four?!). I don’t know her that well. One class she had to bring her 4 year old son and he was quite sweet. Might be a slacker, more likely just a busy parent.

Ms Indonesia – Tiny powerhouse with 2 kids who completely mangles all German words when she speaks. It can’t be easy – there’s surely no correlation between Deutsch and Indonesian (Portugese?!) at all. She has perfect English though. Might be a slacker.

Ms Peru – Used to sit next to me but hasn’t been seen for a while. I think she’s pregnant. Really struggled with the Deutsch. I think it’s a much bigger leap from Spanish to German than English to German. Plus most of us speak some English and can discuss/explain stuff to each other so she was pretty isolated. A slacker due to circmustance.

Ms Cuba – I almost wasn’t going to mention her as I think she’s attended about 7 classes in total. Was very friendly and smiley and always made an effort to chat for a while to Ms Peru. Slacker? Or is she doing another class? Very odd…

Ms Nigeria – Sits on my row. I’ve had some good convos with her in the breaks. She’s got 2 kids similar age to P. Has been in Switzerland 3 years and bought a house here (points! She said it was difficult because it’s difficult AND because having dark skin). She is a beautiful lady with a large diamond ring. She wants to go back to work (in HR) but says it’s nigh impossible with the language barrier and skin colour a bit too (her words). She’s a slacker, but blames the class.

I was thinking that now I’ve started my new faster-paced German classes that I might not go back to finish the module in the slacker class (we have 5 weeks off, then another 3 weeks to finish up). But actually I’ve grown quite fond of these women, although I don’t know if I’d quite call them “friends”. And now I’ve written all this, I realise most of them aren’t really slackers after all. Funny how your assumptions catch you out sometimes.

PS: My cupcakes were a roaring success, even the Ramadan-ers took one home for later 🙂

CLAIRETHICAL? part 1

Totally radical man! Near Zurich HB

I’ve been thinking quite a bit recently about trying to live a more “ethical” life. By this I mean, walking the walk, acting more in accordance with some of my views and principles. This is in no way a manifesto. I just thought if I could do the occasional blog about it, it might help me clarify things.

So: What the f&ck do I mean by living a More Ethical Lifestyle? It’s about the choices I make when it comes to buying goods, recycling & environmental stuff and the things I support by engaging with them (or not), actively or passively. This still sounds a bit academic, so let me give some examples…

Buying stuff.  This is probably easiest to define. In terms of food, it’s about buying stuff that’s been ethically produced – no battery farmed stuff, preferably organic fruit & veg etc (although I admit I’m a bit sceptical about “organic” as the labelling is not always regulated, and it’s often an excuse to print money). Furniture that’s been made well and to last (eg: not Ikea!), from sustainable or eco-friendly sources, clothes that aren’t sweatshop or near enough. etc. I’m in a good spot food-wise here, because Switzerland loves “bio” stuff and is very strong on local produce, most of which is excellent, although you do pay more for it – oftentimes A LOT more. Oh well.

When it comes to other products though, it also gets harder. Cosmetics are a big issue that I would rather ignore but I can’t. For want of a better word, the “un-ethicalness” of being a vain woman is kinda scary. Hair dye. Makeup. Plastic containers of goop for hands, face, hair etc. Contact lenses (not gender specific of course, but when I think of the hypothetical pile of used and discarded contact lenses that would build up throughout a regular CL-wearer’s lifetime, it’s pretty gross).

Then there’s sanitary products, the waste/discards from hair removal/waxing, nails (I had acrylic nails for 5 years – lemme tell you, that shit ain’t organic!), junk jewellery. Old handbags. Shoes that you don’t wear because they were good in the shop but they’re actually hideously uncomfortable. Throw-away fashion. Unfortunately on the clothing front – I’m a bit fickle. I like cheap, fun stuff a lot of the time and I generally prefer quantity over quality. So that’s a bit of an issue for me. It’s depressing. Of course, I always put old clothes in the charity bin I’d really prefer not to encourage/support so much cheap tat being produced in the first place.

Problem is, I just can’t see myself going out tomorrow to start seeking biodegradable hair dye, organic makeup or vegetable nail polish. But maybe now I’ve written this, I will try a bit harder. And, again, the expense of pretty much everything in Switzerland is a deterrent to impulse buying for cheap thrills.

Recycling. Luckily for me, this is a no-brainer in Zurich because the city is really well set up for all kinds of recycling. In fact, Stadt Zurich actively encourages you to put out less “landfill” waste by taxing the garbage bags (Zuri Sacks) you have to use and, I believe, even the “landfill” rubbish goes to a biomass recycling plant rather than to actual landfill (Oh and I see there’s even a recycling tram to collect bulky items!). Plus there are paper and card collections every other week, there are bottle banks everywhere and there’s even a separate bin for bioabfall, which includes all kinds of kitchen and garden waste.

Environmental stuff. This is a biggie. For all the horrendous human rights abuses that are going on around the globe, the damage we’re doing to the natural world is just criminal. Policies that involve people can be changed, our behaviour towards others can be changed. If we destroy the environment, there’s no takebacks. I’m not saying I don’t believe in addressing human issues: of course I do. But the environmental stuff is so urgent and crucial right now. It’s a cliche but there’s no point creating a wonderful society of human beings if there’s no planet for us to dwell on, right!? And it’s so often sidelined. I would like to do more to help.

Things I engage with. This is the trickiest one and perhaps what kicked me into thinking about this whole “ethical lifestyle” thing in the first place. And it’s a lot more insidious. Example: The World Cup is on at the moment and Fifa is well-documented as being corrupt, so part of me would like to not engage with anything World Cup related on principle. Especially as Fifa is based just up the road… But, assuming I did that, would it make one jot of difference to Fifa? And I quite enjoy watching some of the matches. So who am I hurting with this highly-principled response? Only myself. And this one is relatively easy, because I don’t enjoy football that much. What about when it comes to giving up something I really love because it’s produced by a corrupt Big Business?

Because, ideally, I would “boycott” all companies and their output that I deem corrupt and/or essentially evil. But that’s almost all of them! I’d have to change my bank accounts in three countries, stop buying most of those cosmetics and vanity products listed above, never eat takeaway food from a global chain, never buy another piece of clothing from Topshop. As well as encouraging my husband to quit his job at one of the Global Big 4 auditing firms etc. Again, it comes down to – how much does acting “ethically”  impinge on my lifestyle? It always strikes me how it’s so easy for people to scream against Monsanto, while happily guzzling down a Diet Coke. I can’t believe that on a world scale Coke is much better than Monsanto. All big companies are essentially corrupt – you can’t make shitloads of money without doing some dodgy deals somewhere and screwing the little guy/s somehow.

I don’t have any answers for this. I am probably being too idealistic too think there are any. And, ultimately, I’m a bit too lazy, vain and complacent to change things. But I’ve been thinking about it… and it does bother me.

I suppose an obvious answer is to fight the good fight more – be part of the solution, sign petitions, write letters, give to charity, raise awareness (whatever that means?! I am reluctant to start posting loads of preachy/guilt-inducing articles on Facebook!) Yeah, I’m sceptical about slacktivism – in some ways I think it’s worse than doing nothing because you feel all self-satisfied but what do petitions really achieve? Perhaps I am wrong. I probably need to do some more research.

Anyway – if you have some ideas of (ideally easy) changes that can be made (or petitions to sign ;)) … let me know!

 

 

Milanosmith

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Thought I’d better write a more cheerful entry after my latest doom-and-gloom posts.

I recently took a trip to Milan to see one of my favourite bands: Aerosmith. The train trip from Zurich-Milan is excellent: easy, relatively cheap and with some stunning scenery.

For this reason I set off just after 9am in the morning from Zurich HB. The journey is four hours taking in stunning views of the Swiss alps as well as some hugely impressive feats of engineering. All those rail and vehicle tunnels, the tracks and roads themselves, as well as power lines and cable cars snagging their flimsy way up the mountains is seriously cool.

Milan itself was interesting to visit. It’s not the most stunning Italian city there is – and in some ways reminded me a bit of Zurich – you can almost smell the money and the business that’s done there. Plus: trams. However the Duomo is spectacular and prices were cheap compared to Switzerland. It was also pretty cool to see big glitzy shops of Versace and Prada, Missoni etc and know that it’s the “home of…”

The Aerosmith show was at RHO Fiera Milano – a large stadium complex on the outskirts of town. I think we expected a stadium – I was thinking it would be a bit like Homebush in Sydney (where I saw AC/DC) or perhaps London’s O2. But it was more like the carpark of the MCG. In 1988. Very oldskool – a concrete carpark with a cruelly low stage (we only had about 15% visibility, especially as the catwalk seemed to slope down!) and only about 50 portaloos for what must have been 10,000 punters(? 20,000?). I have to say, after Switzerland the UK and Australia even, this venue was a bit wanting!

Transport to and from the place was also somewhat confusing although we made it there OK (Metro track works meant a rail replacement bus for the last 2 stops out there, which was spookily uncrowded considering how many people we thought would be making their way to this stadium show). And when we left, we completely missed the non-signposted entrance (via underpass) to the overland train station that would take us back to Milan. As for the rail replacement bus back, they sent a single one, which about 500 people crammed on to so fast and so full they couldn’t even close the doors! I think by the time the show finished, the Metro would have stopped running anyway so who knows where it was taking the people if/when they ever managed to get going.

Anyway, after following the crowd for a bit, then doubling back after a conversation with two Irish Aerofans who were even more confused than us, we found the concealed station entrance and caught the train back to Central-ish Milan. Unfortunately the stop it went to was the opposite end of town to our hotel. Once again, nothing was organised or clear with buses or taxis (and huge queues) so we walked it – about a 45 min trek – luckily it was a lovely, balmy evening and the Milanese seem to stay out late so there were plenty of people around. Plus we got to see a bit more of the city. But it meant heads didn’t hit pillows until 2.30am after standing/walking for 5+ hours!

It was all worth it though – the show was awesome. They played for 2 hours including encore (Here’s the setlist). Sound was excellent. Joe Perry has a sense of humour and I liked the old fashioned touches like bothering to introduce the whole band at the end (even if ST did forget one guy’s name). But I really couldn’t see, even with Steven Tyler STANDING ON THE PIANO. Oh well…

Next day and a half, we spent doing tourist stuff – the Last Supper, Duomo and a lot of time sitting in cafes and watching the world go by. Milan is a really nice little side-trip from Zurich : )

Dark thoughts

Hokusai: The Great Wave off Kanagawa. Source: http://blackburnmuseum.org.uk

Depression is like dark water seeping into the crevices of my brain. It drips into the small cracks and faultlines, widening and deepening them through a process of erosion. I shake it out and think I’m free for a moment, an hour, a day, but the liquid is just taking its time to settle elsewhere, sometimes almost without my noticing. It always finds the lowest point. Oh you’re here now?

It can be an evil sea, a cruelly happy tide rushing into a familiar harbour, finding those same rocks and outcrops to smash against like welcoming arms. Wearing them a little lower, a little smoother, offering less resistance.

The waves crash and buffet old and new defences. Some sea walls have crumbled with age and a lack of use, thinking they were no longer required. The viscous, vicious tide smacks into them, immediately finding holes, flowing right through to whet old fears and replenish ancient anxieties.

There are some barriers more recently constructed that I thought were strong. But the dark water finds chinks or merely surges up and over. I should have made them higher, better, stronger. I was an arrogant fool to build them at all.

Some shores it hits are bad habits. It almost feels like a relief to bathe in them once again, to have the bubbling tide race over and across them, caressing them, reinvigorating. The comfort of familiarity, even if in its wrongness. I know this, I have experienced it before, let me just enjoy it for a while before I have to stop again…

A king tide comes, deceitful in its slow buildup. Those gentle waves, at first almost a reassurance – I expected this – suddenly become overwhelming. I’m trapped by the water, I can barely see back to land. My boat is so old, it’s an effort to even think about sailing it. And I’m sure it leaks. I consider swimming but the water: I’m afraid of it. Afraid of its violence, its killing cold, the unfathomable menacing power (which also fascinates). I’m afraid of the effort. I’m scared of drowning. I don’t want to start swimming unless I can be sure I’ll succeed. And what if the tide is still rising?

It’s a trickster, a manipulator, an arch procrastinator. Endless distractions, a monkey splashing in the shallows. It doesn’t want me to sit still, it doesn’t want to be solved. Moments of beauty, boredom, terror, interest, never the main game. Or is it? What is that sunny green field so far yonder but a Fool’s Paradise? Surely the Real World lies in the intelligent complexities, the excitement and the drama of my dark waves? See the truth! The water of life! The drowning stuff! It erodes while it builds, weeping the rocks away to form the stalactites and stalagmites of new structures. Oh it’s clever.

Then when it has gone: how absurd! There was no oily liquid darkness here. What pretty rocks the receding tide exposes, the few small, inky pools left behind just provide important contrast… no lessons? Just a new stretch of terrain to explore.

Fail Fast

 

“Fail Fast” is a tenet of some management methodologies (eg: Agile) that basically involves swiftly identifying when a project or sub-project is not working, giving up, and moving on. I like the idea because I hate wasting my time. Unfortunately I am not great with the notion of failing in general (for myself). But I guess sometimes you’ve just gotta call time.

We’ve been in Zurich for four months now and I’ve clocked up what I’d deem as a few failures already. So with a mind to “fail fast” and move on, I’m outlining them here.

Germanfail: I haven’t loved my German classes. I picked one of the cheapest courses I could find as I’m generally a believer in trying the budget option first because sometimes it’s great and why spend more (eg: lots of Supermarket own-brand groceries), plus I think it’s easier to justify paying extra for better quality than it is to “shift down” once you’ve tried the so-priced best.

I’ve found these classes a disappointment on a few levels.

  1. Childcare: I could not take advantage of the childcare they provided (another reason I chose the class) because they would only let me use it if I put P in both days of the course, but I only needed it for one.
  2. The teacher: I don’t like to knock people doing their jobs so I won’t go into details but I don’t think the teacher is great, nor has she created a particularly conducive learning environment IMHO.
  3. The students: at least a third of the class never does their homework and have started asking me (rather than the teacher) to explain stuff all the time, which is tedious and distracting although, admittedly, also slightly flattering. Some of the students don’t seem to “get” a lot of the exercies or understand the fundamentals of grammar and one of them doesn’t even know how to read an analogue clock/watch. This is not me saying they’re stupid or lacking intelligence – I believe they just haven’t had much exposure to education or the methods of learning. But the upshot is – it slows things down and is dull for me because I mostly do “get” things pretty quickly.

SOLUTION: I’ve taken matters into my own hands and found a class that seems a lot more suited to me. The new school is called Bellingua and says it’s for “committed, fast learners”. According to the website, 75% of its students hold a uni degree so I’m assuming they won’t be nearly so mystified by what I consider fairly basic language exercises and grammar. I start on Monday.

WHY IT’S STILL A FAIL However, today in my normal class (I plan to do both classes concurrently for a bit) I was surprised to discover that most of the other students are continuing to the second unit in the same school with that same teacher. Am I the asshole? I also feel sad not to have successfuly made friends with any of the students (again, maybe because I am the asshole?). I mean, I like them, we say hello and have had a few good conversations, but there’s nobody I would exactly seek out to hang with. Fail.

 

Housewifefail: My next fail is as a housewife. I don’t think I’m cut out for this job. I hate cleaning. I’m reasonably organised but I’m inconsistent with planning. I hate cleaning. I don’t mind cooking but I don’t always get my A into G with it. I hate cleaning. I am fine with grocery and other shopping but I seem to end up buying a few bags of groceries almost every day, and getting HI to grab a few more bits on his way home from work, which is inefficient and surely costing us more. I hate cleaning. Laundry I am, dare I say, quite good at although I want to wash every day, which is a bit impractical. I hate cleaning. I’m cool with paying bills and doing admin eg: chasing up the real estate agent for our house sale in London etc. And did I mention I hate cleaning?

SOLUTION: This one is trickier to solve. We can’t afford a cleaner right now because I’m going to be spending extra money on the German classes (see above). But actually writing this out has made me realise that my main issue is a bit of disorganisation and my hatred (irrational?) of cleaning.

WHY IT’S STILL A FAIL: If I’m completely honest, housewifefail stems from the fact that… deep breath… I’m finding it extremely hard to deal with my change in status from roughly-equal-working-person-in-a-partnership-involving-small-child to housewife. I don’t think it’s fair of me not to do the cleaning and run the house since I’m not earning money (except from some freelancing, which will also be somewhat curtailed by the increased German classes, see above) and that was basically the deal we struck. Plus, although I hate cleaning, I love it when the house is clean and it depresses me to see it messy, dusty and dirty so I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. I think I need to learn to love it. Or at least accept cleaning as part of my “job” now. Possibly if I schedule it better, it won’t seem so hateful and overwhelming?

 

Friendfail: Acquiring friends here feels like it’s moving at a glacial pace. I was prepared for this but it doesn’t change the fact that it feels very shitty not to have “critical mass” of pals to hook up with yet. And, while I’m not sure quite what I could have done differently, I can only blame myself. I haven’t put myself out there enough, haven’t tried hard enough, haven’t doggedly followed up the small friendship leads I’ve had. So I’m a bit of a proud, aloof, shy adult sometimes… I don’t wanna run after the popular kids in the playground begging for scraps. But I’m sad to say that I feel the housewifefail and resentment would be much mitigaged if I had a few more local cronies. And, of course, the fact that I haven’t bonded with any of my German classmates is another fail on this front.

SOLUTION: Try again. Try harder. Do things differently (?) Well, maybe the new German class will deliver on all fronts – giving me a new set of people to befriend, a new sense of purpose and identity, plus, of course, winging me on my way to being able to make friends with native-speakers and thereby opening up whole new avenues of potential buddies!

WHY IT’s STILL A FAIL: Because I feel like shit right now and the house is a mess. Thanks for reading!