Walk with Me

Please join me for my regular morning walk along Lake Zurich. 

We’ll start along the path with a small bridge that passes some sailboats anchored close to shore.

There are many beautiful wild flowers growing on either side of the path, soaking up the Swiss sunshine and fresh alpine air.

You’ll come to a boardwalk, where the vegetation is dense on either side of the path.

But occasionally, you can catch a brief glimpse of the water through the foliage.

These people wanted a lake view at 270 degrees.  Can you blame them?

The path curves away from the lake and you reach a vineyard, carved into the hillside.

Thanks for joining me on my walk.  Come back again tomorrow.  I’ll be here again, for as long as I can.

And if you do return, might I suggest a soundtrack? Worship music is a must, and Swiss people don’t seem to mind one bit if you sing along as you walk.

Kein Deutsch! Kein Deutsch!

I don’t speak German.  I tried to learn, and I ended up able to say some obscure phrases, ie “Ein Junge ist unter einem tisch” (A boy is under a table) and “Das flugzeug fliegt” (the airplane flies).  Sure, I look for all opportunities to use these useful phrases, but to be honest, they are  few and far between.

Once I got here, I realized that I could use some more practical phrases to help me with shopping and daily interactions with Swiss people.  On the first day, I found myself using Spanish to talk to the grocery store clerk.  She’d rattled on about something that sounded like this: “blah wah zuh gah vre go?”  But, she was smiling, and I figured that she was just asking if I found everything I needed.  I mean, if she were an American clerk, that’s what she’d be asking (well, just in English).  So what did I say?  “Si.” No, not all foreign countries speak Spanish, dummy.

I got a funny look, but the fact that I was nodding my head probably clued her into what I was talking about.  It’s amazing what you can communicate with nods and hand gestures.

Another problem with learning German words ahead of time is that they don’t help me a heck of a lot here.  In Switzerland, they speak Swiss German, which is sort of like German, but it’s not technically a written language.  It’s a derivative of German, but it’s different enough to be its own unique language (sort of like English is Germanic but less closely tied to its root language).  Everybody here writes in “high” German, but all social interactions take place in Swiss German. It’s not very convenient for those of us who want to prepare ourselves ahead of time.  Unless we feign deafness and ask everyone to write things down for us, we’re a little stuck.

By the way, who writes in one language and speaks another?  There’s something wrong with that.  Just pick one and stick with it.

So, I’ve realized that I need some fundamental Swiss German words.

I asked Chari to clue me in on some basics, which I just have to figure out based on sound, since remember, it’s not technically a written language.  I asked what I should do to say hello and goodbye.

You’d think this would be easy, but no, it’s not.  The general Swiss greeting, something like “good day” (guten Tag in German) is Grüezi.  People kept saying this all the time to me, and I had no clue what in the world they were saying.  People hold out the long vowel sound in the middle, so it’s very guttural.  It sounds a bit like a digestive process. It’s even worse when I say it.

But, just when I thought I had Grüezi down (by the way, nobody agrees on how to spell that either), I was out walking by the lake one morning and everyone was saying “Morga” to me. Apparently, this is good morning, but everybody says it slightly differently, depending on which kanton you’re from.  People can tell where you’re from in Switzerland by your “Morga.”  As for me, they just think I’m choking on something.  Don’t ask me what you say when it’s in the evening because my greetings don’t cover that event.  I just don’t plan on greeting anyone past 3:00 p.m.

Onto “goodbye.”

Apparently, you get told goodbye with several different words, and  It’s not kosher to reply with the same phrase.  So, when a clerk says “Wiedersehen,” (Auf Wiedersehen in German) you say “adjo” (warped version of the French adieu), or wieder luege (a uniquely Swiss German twist on the German “see you later”).  Chari and I had a hard time figuring out how to spell these things, by the way, since they’re technically not written words.

All this language learning is exhausting.  For emergencies, I asked Chari to tell me how to explain that I don’t speak German (as if that isn’t going to be obvious enough immediately after I open my mouth).  She first gave me a long sentence, but I knew that speaking German to explain that you don’t speak German is always a bad idea.  It’s like the people here who say they speak “a little bit of English” and proceed to speak better English than most of my college students.  No joke.  I don’t want to give the impression of false humility.

So, she came up with “kein Deutsch.”  We practiced it a few times, so I got it down.  And now, as soon as somebody starts speaking Swiss German to me, I blast them with a “kine Deutsch,” as if I’m a leper shouting “unclean!”

Yes, that’s me, wandering around Zurich, proclaiming the fact that I can’t speak their language.  If you’re Swiss and you attempt to communicate with me, please forgive the sudden outburst.  It lasts just a moment, but it’s for your own good.  You really don’t want to listen to me butcher your language.

Johanna Spyri’s Birthplace

Zurich is a great place to spend the summer.  Plenty of beautiful weather and fun sights within a short bus or train ride away.  I sort of forget how close I am to everything here.

I was dining with Chris’ family, who lives a town or two away, and they were asking how I liked living so far away from my family.  “Far? It’s not that bad actually, only 2 hours away,” I said.  But then, they reminded me that in two hours, they could be in 4 different countries. I guess it’s all a matter of perspective.

Since everything is closed in Switzerland on Sunday (and I mean everything…try getting groceries or going out for dinner that day), Chari took me to the town of Hirzel, just a few minutes outside of Zurich.

It’s a quaint little town with little to recommend it aside from stunning views of rolling hills and occasional glimpses of the Alps in the distance…if that’s your sort of thing.  Really, it’s common fare in these parts.

What makes it truly unique to this American book lover is its connection with Johanna Spyri, the author of the beloved children’s book, Heidi.  Spyri was born in Hirzel in 1827, and she spent a large portion of her life there and in Zurich.  Her dad was the local doctor, and they lived in this home, which is pictured in an 1822 image and its modern, renovated form.

We couldn’t go in the house, since it’s currently a private residence.  But, we could go in Spyri’s old schoolhouse, where she learned to read and most importantly, to write.  The building is now a small museum, devoted to Spyri’s life and writing, but it’s only open on Sundays for two hours, and not on holidays (something I probably need to elaborate on sometime, since Swiss holidays are a little unusual).  So, we made it there during the special time when the stars were properly in alignment to visit.  It helps to have a native Swiss-German speaker in your home who can call around and find these things out for you (thanks Chris!).Since the town is so small, it was a joy to also see Spyri’s church, the one she went to as a child and where her grandfather was a pastor.  It’s literally across the street from her home and a few feet away from the schoolhouse…ahh, small village life.  Rereading Heidi as an adult and as a committed Christ follower, I’m picking up on the deep faith message in the book.  I don’t know how in the world I missed it before, but I suppose you lose it a bit with the Shirley Temple version. 

Interestingly, Spyri strayed from her parents’ faith in her early adult years, but after a serious bout of depression when she was 25, she turned back to Jesus for help.  A prodigal child herself, it’s incredible to read about the prodigal children she’s woven into her book.

Free Water from an Unlikely Source

Fun fact, Zurich, a city of somewhere around 300,000 people has well over 1,000 fountains around the city.  These people love their water.

I was a little taken aback when I ran out of water in my water bottle, and my friend’s husband (Chris) suggested that I fill it up in one of the city fountains.  I thought he was messing with me. In the states, drinking from a public fountain is something only dogs do, and even then, many know better and avoid the filthy pigeon poop filled water.

But, as it turns out, all of Zurich’s fountains have potable water coming from their taps.  I’m not sure who’s checking the quality of this, but apparently, this is the long accepted rule.

I’m still recovering from jet lag, but I think there might be a cool connection here to Jesus’ discussion with the woman at the well, about an eternal living water.  It also comes from a very unlikely source, and it’s free for all to enjoy.

Now that I’ve solved the problem of keeping hydrated, I just have to figure out what to do about the ever elusive European public restrooms.

Grocery Shopping in Zurich

Thanks to everyone who was praying for my travels to Switzerland. I had a wonderful journey with nothing remarkable to note, well aside from having nobody occupying the seats next to me. Yes, I was spoiled the entire time.  God was so generous.

Today was my first full day in Switzerland, and I spent part of the day going grocery shopping, a noteworthy event, in my opinion.  Here are a few of my discoveries:

Swiss milk comes in boxes, which you won’t find in the refrigerated section.  No, you’ll find it on a shelf, right next the eggs, which also aren’t refrigerated.

These eggs have been hard boiled and decorated with special colors.  My friend called them “picnic eggs,” which I guess means that they are something you’d take on a picnic.  Mmmm, non-refrigerated, colorful, hard boiled eggs.  Oh look, some even look like the Swiss flag.

While the milk and eggs threw me for a loop, I’ve got to say that I’m 100% in favor of their chocolate selection.  Let’s just say that chocolate got more attention in the store than anything else, except for the produce.  Yes, chocolate is a grocery staple.  You’ll find it right next to the bread. God bless the Swiss.

My Swiss Book List

 

Thanks to everybody who guessed at the theme in my summer reading list.  Ross and Taya got it right.  It’s Switzerland.  In particular, it’s authors who lived in Switzerland.

Why the focus? In less than a week, I’ll be staying there, in Zurich, for a couple weeks with my best friend and her family.  I recently came across a travel section of a book store that paired travel books with novels set in that particular area of the world.  I thought it was a great idea.  But, I took it to another level and pulled from theologians and influential thinkers who lived there as well.  

Part of my thinking here is to capture the Zeitgeist of culture, not just a sense of the landmarks and the history there.  Certain thinkers and ideas contribute to the atmosphere and people of a place, just as much as the landscape does.  So, my goal is to try to pick up a little of that in the books I’m reading.  Absorb Switzerland at the book level too.

So, here’s the connections, for those of you who’d like to see how these authors have a bit of Switzerland in them.

The God who is There by Francis Schaeffer 

Schaeffer was a gifted American pastor and theologian who moved to Switzerland and founded L’Abri, a retreat for Christian reflection and study.  

Calvin for Armchair Theologians by Christopher Elwood

Originally a Frenchman, John Calvin fled to Geneva after converting to Protestantism.  The famous protestant reformer was kicked out of the city for awhile, but eventually returned to live out his final days there, where he is now buried.   I wasn’t up to carrying around the full 2 volumes of Calvin’s Institutes with me, and this book seemed like it would be a decent summary of the basics of his thought, mixed with some biographical information.

The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce

Joyce lived in Zurich during two key times in his life, while he was writing his masterpieces Ulysses and Finnegan’s Wake, and for his last years.  He’s buried somewhere in Zurich, and maybe I’ll get a chance to track down his grave while I’m there.  He moved to Zurich shortly after finishing this particular book, but it’s arguably his most personal and easiest to read.  I still might drag along Ulysses, but it’s not exactly a “beach read.”

Dr. Fischer of Geneva or the Bomb Party by Graham Greene

I love Graham Greene.  If you haven’t read The End of the Affair, make sure you put that on your “to read list.”  He’s a catholic writer who weaves his faith into his writing in such an insightful, modern way.  Greene moved to Lake Geneva at the end of his life, and this is one of his last novels.  The story is set in Geneva, which is a double bonus.  I’ve never read it, so I’m just chomping at the bit to start.  It might be the first book on the airplane.  Oh, and this is the book I thought might be the giveaway because “Geneva” is in the title so clearly.  

Heidi by Johanna Spyri

This is arguably the best known book from the canons of Swiss literature.  A children’s classic, I think it’s rich with meaning for us adults as well.  Spyri is native Swiss, and the story is set in the Alps.  I’ll be reading the English translation, of course.  My German speaking skills are laughable.  Probably more laughable than my Spanish ones.  I’m sure I’ll have stories to share in the coming weeks.  Stay tuned for pictures and writing from my travels.

My Summer Reading List Mystery

I’ve been selecting my summer reading list, and I’ll provide a few to see if you can detect a theme:

The God who is There by Francis Schaeffer 

Calvin for Armchair Theologians by Christopher Elwood

The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce

Dr. Fischer of Geneva or the Bomb Party by Graham Greene

Heidi by Johanna Spyri

Any guesses?

Extra points if you guess why I’ve focused on this theme in particular.

Friday Funny: Word Pride

A student introduced me to an addicting new website for all you bloggers out there. It’s called “Wordle,” and it’s a fun way to create art with the words you commonly use in your blog, sometimes known as a “word cloud” (You non bloggers also can join in the fun by writing in a text-box). 

I set the parameters to 100 words and chose a font that resembled the ones I’d read in copies of Milton and the Geneva bible from the 17th century.  Then, I chose some of my favorite colors.

Here’s what the program came up with for my blog:

It seemed to capture my topics well, with lots of emphasis on Jesus, God, and books.  I don’t know why there’s so much on Canadians in there, though. 

So, all proud, I decided to narrow the words to 1, to see what my most frequently used word was.  I expected it would be Jesus or God, and I could write a post about how wonderful it is to have Jesus at the center of my blog, like he should be in all things. Bletch. 

What came up? 

As in “just desserts”, “justice,” and “Amy’s just plain arrogant.”

I think I had that one coming.

Turning my Wailing to Dancing

I’ll admit that one of the first things I did after recognizing the sin of food idolatry was throw a pity party. 

“Woe is me.  I suck.  This sucks.  And now I can’t even make myself feel better about it by getting a milkshake.”

It seriously went like that for awhile.

But, God is good.  He let me wallow for a little while, but then he gave me a sharp kick in the behind to get me busy in the process of repentance and renewal.

So many reminders.  Scripture was speaking to me about the need to repent and turn it all over to Christ to change me.  I just happen to be reading two books on this topic right now, one which is called How People Change (duh).  God started saying, “Um, lady, these are about you, so apply them.”  And my mom, sensing that I was wallowing, gave me a gentle reminder to turn it over to Jesus. 

I did spend a little more time wallowing, I admit, but then, I moved on.

A friend recently posted a helpful sermon on her blog that spoke to this issue of finding your idols and turning them over to Jesus, yet another example of God’s perfect timing in my life (Thanks Keisha for helping, even though you probably didn’t even realize it).

In the sermon, Pastor Tim Keller explains the need to rejoice after you repent of your idolatry, because otherwise, you’ll end up in an endless pity party, much like I did:  ”Rejoicing and repentance must go together. Repentance without rejoicing will lead to despair. Rejoicing without repentance is shallow and will only provide passing inspiration instead of deep change.”

So now that I’ve repented of my folly, of worshipping creation instead of the creator, of putting food on God’s pedestal, of running to it for comfort instead of to the God of all comfort, I’m fixing my eyes on Jesus and rejoicing in what he has done and what he will do.

Yes, I’m going to have setbacks.  You don’t just step away from habitual sin like this, never to return.  Well, it does happen sometime, but often, there are bumps in the road.  I’m a realist about that.

But, I’m so grateful that Jesus has forgiven me for my sin.  Not only that, he’ll forgive me for my failures to come.  And he’s here with me, sanctifying me, replacing my weak idol with himself.  I’m not fighting this alone.

Psalm 30

I will exalt you, O Lord, for you lifted me out of the depths and did not let my enemies gloat over me. O Lord my God, I called to you for help and you healed me. O Lord, you brought me up from the grave; you spared me from going down into the pit. Sing to the Lord, you saints of his; praise his holy name. For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may remain for a night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.

When I felt secure, I said, “I will never be shaken.” O Lord, when you favored me, you made my mountain stand firm; but when you hid your face, I was dismayed. To you, O Lord, I called; to the Lord I cried for mercy: “What gain is there in my destruction, in my going down into the pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it proclaim your faithfulness? Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me; O Lord, be my help.” You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever.

A One Grandma Army

I spent my fourth of july weekend with my family: relaxing, catching up, and being pyromaniacs on the eve of the 4^th.  My grandpa told the family about some unusual behavior by my grandma lately, and we’re not sure whether we should encourage it or be concerned.  She’s been hugging strangers a lot.

Grandpa broke the news this way: “Did I tell you about grandma hugging the Canadians?”

We all looked at him and then her like they were off their rockers.  “No…” we all replied, in unison, a little bit worried.

“You know we’ve got all these Canadians coming down and shopping down here now. I think she’s responsible.  She’s been hugging all of them.” 

We all laughed because we thought he was making a joke. And grandma was just deadpanning along with it, as if this was some well rehearsed gag they’ve been doing for awhile.

But, it quickly became apparent that, no, they were serious; grandma was indeed hugging the Canadians. 

“Mom, why are you hugging the Canadians?” My mom asked, flabbergasted.

Grandma was very serious in her response: “Because I love our Canadian neighbors.”

We all just stared, mouths open.  Grandma had finally lost her marbles.  I was wondering, does she walk up to every Canadian she sees or just the women?  Does she approach them in the stores or in the parking lots?

According to grandpa, it’s all of the above.  Grandma will see a group of them and proceed to hug the whole lot of ‘em, telling them, “I love our Canadian neighbors; now give me a hug.”  She’ll just go right down the line, regardless of age or gender and hug them all.  She’s been known to hug people outside and inside stores. 

Frankly, I want to know how you can spot them so clearly, but grandpa claims they’ve worn a specific kind of smile since their dollar went up. 

Apparently, this all started when grandma read a nasty letter to the editor in the newspaper from some local yahoo who wanted all the Canadians to stay out of our country.  You see, my family lives in northern Washington, near the Canadian border, so with the Canadian dollar being worth so much and gas prices being relatively lower here, BC residents are flocking across the border to spend money in the county.  This man was annoyed that the roads are more congested and stores are busier.   

Grandma, seeing that this sort of message is getting out, is making it her mission to counteract it by welcoming the Canadians with hugs. 

My grandma, who hasn’t read the book, Three Cups of Tea, has the right idea for international diplomacy.  One person can do a lot to undo the negative messages sent by our culture. I also believe that one Christian can do a lot to undo the negative message sent out by some people who claim to be Christians.  There’s also just a lot of weird assumptions about Christians out there that some intentional displays of love might help dispel.