New York

It's hard to imagine a more striking contrast than between Zuoz and New York! Within 3 days I went from snow to the hot and humid NY summer, from long daily walks in nature to spending as much time as possible in air conditioned buildings. The hum of the unit in Eric's room has replaced the roaring of the river. We keep the shades closed at all times either for protection against the sun, or for privacy. I believe the moon was full over the weekend - but here I feel so cut off from the natural world that it never occurred to me to look up into the night sky.

I was wondering whether being back in the US would stir any patriotic feelings and make me want to return. It hasn't happened. The decision of the Supreme Court on the Chicago ban on handguns is precisely what scares me about this country. Obviously New York cannot be compared to Portland and I am sure I would feel very differently if I had gone all the way home. But here I am, with my eternal Swiss accent, and people want to know where I come from. How difficult a question can it be? Very much so for me, and I have developed various answers, depending on who's asking. I am feeling so out of place here, yet, a lot is very familiar, because after all I have lived in this country for 25 years, and of course, I have visited here many times. Sometimes I forget that tomorrow I'll fly back to Switzerland, rather than to Oregon. It feels like it's time to go home, and back to work at the foundation, and then reality sets in. I realize that it was great to get a break from the Lemonade Project and for just a few days go back to what used to be normal life.

Indeed, this trip to New York was no different from the others, its purpose being to see Eric perform. I once more became the chief groupie of the Lydia Johnson Dance company. I enjoyed it thoroughly, despite the fact that it was a very challenging performance: Kerry, Eric's roommate and one of the company's lead dancers, injured her back a couple weeks ago. She was just about recovered and did well at the dress rehearsal - but reinjured herself during the first performance. The show had to go on without her and the next day the company reworked the program during an emergency rehearsal. They are underfunded and cannot afford understudies, and various dancers had to learn Kerry's parts in just a few hours. It was very interesting to observe how they salvaged the show and picked up their new roles with much professionalism. In a wonderful pep talk, the choreographer and director of the company, Lydia Johnson, gave them permission to dance with joy despite the very painful and stressful situation and they pulled it off, dancing their hearts out.

Eric's girlfriend, Pam, actually lives near the theater where the rehearsals and performances were taking place - so he stayed at her place for the duration of the show, letting me use his room. Being on my own was an opportunity to develop new relationships - with the city itself, and especially with Kerry, since I became the one who was going back and forth from her to her dance mates. Everybody was publicly very courageous but my status as resident mom allowed me to witness the pain, the sadness, the shock. The company feels like a family, the dancers are all very supportive of each other and for me it was a privilege to be treated like a member of the family for a few days.

On the lighter side... Eric and I managed to see each other one-on-one every day despite the complicated logistics - which was very fun for me. One day we walked down Broadway, starting at now car free Times Square, taking in the fun exhibit, Catwalk on the Sidewalk. Yesterday we tried to go to Governor's Island. I was looking forward to the freshness of the sea breeze, the quiet away from cars - and to see something new. Unfortunately the line to the ferry discouraged us. We estimated a wait of something like at least one hour... and just getting to the end of the line in the stifling heat discouraged us. We bailed and went home to watch TV in the air-conditioned room! At sunset we climbed to the rooftop for happy hour with an unending view of buildings!

I am flying back tomorrow night. I trust the flight back will be as easy as the trip over, which went very smoothly except that Eric and I missed each other at JFK and I had to find my way home on public transportation. Fortunately Eric had sent me detailed instructions and except for the tiredness and the heat, it was easy.

Pictures:

1. Times Square
2. Eric Vlach and Jessica Sand (photo by Kokyat, from Oberon's Grove)
3. Happy hour on the roof

Summer Solstice

Today is the longest day of the year. Tomorrow the days are starting to get shorter. I always feel cheated when the season turns and we are still waiting for the first nice day, for a sign that summer is just around the corner. I actually saw a couple of patches of blue sky in the late afternoon (the Canadians call them sucker holes). It's been overcast and rainy for the last week (Oregon style!) and on Sunday morning there was fresh snow all the way down to the valley bottom. A lot of it has melted in the meantime, but the snowline definitely has remained below the tree line, and once again, high elevation hikes are out of the question. The river is once more running clear and very low - it's again too cold for the glaciers to melt!

The snow hardly was a surprise - it definitely was in the forecast. And it was forecast for the one weekend on which I was supposed to go on a 2-day hike to the Kesch Hut. It's in a remote area, too far and in too rugged country for me to go by myself. So when I got the invitation from the municipality of Zuoz I jumped on it. All inhabitants were invited to what seems to be a yearly hike to go check on the far off cairns marking the municipality's boundaries. Indeed, Switzerland has neither public lands, nor Crown Lands (like in Canada): all the "empty" land belongs to some municipality, and so it is that the town of Zernez, just 3 train stops from Zuoz, is the largest in Switzerland. The hike was 7 hours each day - challenging. I checked in with the leader who reassured me that I would be ok and welcome... and I started training. However, towards the end of last week it became obvious that it was going to be a miserable affair. I called the leader, embarrassed about even entertaining thoughts of bailing after having signed up. He was very kind and encouraged me to not make up my mind until the morning of the departure. As the forecast became only worse, on Friday morning I made the definite decision not to go. On Saturday morning I walked up to the meeting point in town to let them know I was not going. I was greeted by a group of some 12 men... all men, all very sturdy-looking... The sight of this group confirmed that I had made the right decision - and they probably were relieved not having to deal with me. The main reason for my cancellation was less the expected hardship of the adventure than the knowledge that the group would surely have had to wait for me while I was having my multiple snacks. It's one thing to make people wait when the weather is good - another when it's miserable and they are getting cold and want to get going. Saturday actually turned out to be not too bad a day, and I started regretting my decision. And then, on Sunday morning I woke up and saw this:

That was the end of my regrets!

Hannah, my Portland yoga friend, was here all last week, and she was the perfect guest. Unfortunately, the weather was poor. After the initial great hike on Monday, we limited ourselves to afternoon walks on Tuesday and Wednesday (with sprinkles on and off). When we got up on Thursday we were surprised to see blue sky, and decided that it was now or never to go to the National Park. A villager had told me that it was a good time to see wildlife with their young. A bus now runs from Zuoz to the nearest gateway parking lot to the park - a welcome ride that shaves a solid hour of walking on a paved road. After 2 hours of hiking we reached a meadow from which we saw dozens of animals - it felt like on a safari: ibex, chamois, elk, marmots... all over the place. The rain had the decency to wait until we were done admiring and had started our lunch. It never let up again and we reached the parking lot soaked. Meekly I asked two gentlemen we had met earlier on the trail whether they would give us a ride to the main road, as it was going to be another 90 minutes before the next bus... We lucked out - they took us all the way home!

Given the relatively little hiking, Hannah and I had lots of time for other entertainment. Hannah is an excellent cook and we treated ourselves to many good meals. I taught her Lew's game of dice which provided excitement in the evenings. We had to take an emergency trip to Samedan (4 towns up the valley) because both my watches' batteries ran out during the week - and I cannot catch a plane without a working watch! Yes, Zuoz doesn't have a store that sells either watch batteries or... nail polish! Today I decided that since I will be wearing sandals in New York it's time to beautify my toes... but since I was unwilling to take the train up to Samedan just for that, I'll land tomorrow in New York with unadorned tootsies.

Pictures:

1. Sunday morning, from my house
2. Val Trupchun, National Park (photo by Hannah)
3. Making the best of bad weather

Hiking buddies

Hannah from my Portland yoga class arrived yesterday. I was very much looking forward to her visit, looking forward to have a hiking buddy for a few days. I had planned out the whole week, one good hike after another, an interesting variety of hikes, but forgot to take the weather into account. It is very unstable, has been like this for the whole last week, showers every day - it takes a certain amount of courage to take off. I never know if the rain will last 5 minutes or the rest of the day, and given the altitude, as soon as the sun goes away, the temperature drops substantially. All this to say, that Hannah and I will have to play it one day at the time, because it's just impossible to predict how tomorrow - or the next hour - will be like.
Today's hike had a great effort vs reward ratio - i.e. great rewards for little effort. A couple of times we had to take shelter to wait out a shower, but then the sun would come back out and the air was so clear, the light so beautiful, pure, translucent, clear... I remembered that the light in the Engadin indeed has the reputation for being... special, unique, and therefore so much appreciated by artists. Although we are now in high (or medium?) season, we were pretty much alone on the trail. The iffy weather probably had a lot to do with it. We hiked up to the high country through the woods peppered with wildflowers, had great views down to the Sils Lake and the mountains and waterfalls across the valley. The first rhododendrons are opening up (much smaller than the Oregon rhodies). Several kinds of orchids and wild clematis are now in bloom.

I had done this hike for the first time just last Thursday - with the... seniors! Opportunities for group hikes are scant. There's the Club Alpin Suisse, like the Mazamas on steroids (that's for my Oregon friends) - meaning all their outings are too extreme for me. And there's Pro Senectute (latin for "for the old") - which is the group I went with. The meeting point was in Sils Maria, at the stop of the postal bus. As I got off the bus, some 15 women came towards me, hands stretched out to greet and welcome me. It was overwhelming. Yes, we walked relatively slowly, no, the hike wasn't very long, but it was a hike I had never done before, and the ladies ( and 2 men) were kind, open, upbeat, energetic, interesting. They know every nook and cranny of the valley, the names of the flowers and where the best beaches are (no kidding!) - I had a great day with them. Best of all, at the end we all went for coffee together, then I rode back on the bus with a couple of them, and the next day I met one in Zuoz and we had a great chat. On the same day as the senior hike I went on an evening hike with the ladies from the evening gym club. Obviously the hikes are more popular than floor exercises in the gym, because we were a whole crowd, walking in the evening light among fields full of flowers to the next town where we had dinner, and then back to the cars with the last light before dark.





Other odds and ends of the week:
- the snow is melting very rapidly and the Inn is flooding here and there. The creeks are scary torrents - I am picking my hikes very carefully, making sure there are bridges.
- I got a hair cut - the worst ever in my life, and that's how I'll have to go to NY to Eric's performance!
- I voted. I still haven't figured out the 8 parties, nor who stands for what and it took me over an hour to fill out the 7 ballots! There are some advantages to only 2 parties and only 2 election days a year. This already was my 2nd election since my arrival.

Looking ahead: Hannah is here for the whole week. On Saturday I am off to a major challenge: hike to a hut with some other folks from Zuoz, all strangers, to check on the town's far off boundaries. Don't ask me - I don't know anything more - check my blog next week!

Pictures:
1. Clouds trailing mid-mountain in Zuoz
2. Sils Lake from Val Fedoz hike
3. Yet to be identified orchid
4. Fields full of flowers, near Zuoz
5. Wild clematis

(Sorry for the misalignment!)

New Season

I don't want to rub it in for my Oregon readers, but here the weather has finally come around, very suddenly, at the end of last week. Tuesday and Wednesday I went to St. Gallen (the lowlands) to visit my aunt, and it still was very cold. During the whole train ride (4 trains, 4 hours) I never took off my parka, despite wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt and a sweater underneath! What a change! The snowline is now above the tree line, opening a world of new hiking options. The forest is green, the fields are filling up with wildflowers and the river has become a monster: full of silt and mud form the rapid snow and glacier melt, gushing by my window, an inch from flooding. As for me, I feel reborn, finding once again the level of energy I had in the winter. Light, warmth, open windows, swallows flitting back and forth, screeching.. Today I even felt inspired to wash the windows.

I am now alternating walks with bike rides. The walks are taking me ever higher, and I hope I am not doing anything stupid by striking out on my own. I am very careful, always carrying a hiking stick because there still are snow fields here and there in the shadowy woods and some of the creek crossings are hairy because of the high water levels. Some tourists have come back, but it definitely still is low season and I seldom meet anybody on the trails. More accurately, I seldom meet humans. The other day I was having a snack in the most delightful meadow, high up on the slope... and suddenly a doe came out of the woods and strolled along the lower edge of the clearing, unaware that I was there, or pretending not to see me. Without the distraction of conversation with a hiking buddy, I see so much more. Marmots also are common encounters. At some places they are very skittish, elsewhere they can't be bothered running away from me.

So far I have done only 2 bike rides. My options are somewhat limited. It's either up the valley, or down the valley! There are many miles of trails, leading way up into the alpine meadows, but there is no way I'll ever ride my bike on them. I am not skilled enough, and while riding is exhilarating, it does not allow for observing flowers, watching birds, noticing the doe. Right now my biggest challenge is not having padded biking shorts and after an hour in the saddle the riding is less than enjoyable. Does one grow calluses, or develop special muscles that make one more resistant over the long term?

The wildflowers are now the highlights of my hikes. As one gains elevation one goes through all the stages of spring, ranging from crocuses where the snow just melted, to new species in the lower fields. Identifying them is an on-going challenge. Fortunately I have two friends who are passionate about wildflowers, and very good at identifying them. When I have exhausted all my field guides and I am still stumped, I send pictures of the mystery flowers to either one of them, and pronto get the name. One of these friends is my high-school German teacher whose true passion is flowers. He has translated THE wildflower guide of Switzerland, Flora Helvetica, from German to French, and just last week he sent it to me - at the amazing whole sale price. It's a treasure, a priceless resource, the Swiss botanist's bible.

As to the highlight of the past week: the visit of my friend Paul from Brussels. He heard me talk about Zuoz since 1978 and wanted to see it. After I picked him up at the train station, took him home and showed him the apartment, he expressed concern about my well being: he though I must be going crazy, all alone in this remote village, without a movie theater, a video rental store, or many of the other amenities found in the city. However, after the hike to the mouth of the glacier (a very different sight now that the snow is gone) and another to a high meadow peppered with wildflowers and affording a stunning view down to the lakes in the St. Moritz area, after having slowed down from his jet set lifestyle and having learned to appreciate the view from the window and the roaring of the river beneath, at the end of the visit he declared that he now understood why this place means so much to me. As he is about to move from Brussels to Switzerland with mixed emotions (it's too quiet, the stores are closed when you need them to be open, etc.) I hope that the weekend in the Engadin allowed him to discover some of the advantages and privileges of living in Switzerland.

Pictures:
1. Hiking to Marmore, above Sils. View down to the Lakes of Silvaplana and St. Moritz, as well as the towns of Silvaplana and St. Moritz.
2. Marmot standing guard
3. Poppies in the river bed
4. Sunday morning sightseeing in Zuoz.