Desolee.....

Sorry, readers - I realize it's been almost (but not quite!) one month since my last entry. I suppose getting the hang of blogging is a bit like getting the hang of buggy-boarding, or some other ocean based sport. You start out pretty much just splashing around in the shallow end, cautiously attempting to look naturally talented, until a nice big ocean wave comes and shows you what it's all about.

My life has been something like that wave. Within the past three weeks and six days, I have:

- visited France

- been reminded of my generally closeted love-hate relationship with bowling

- met some long-lost friends

- created

- teamed up with my sisters-in-law to prepare a rather excellent surprise romantic dinner for my parents-in-law

- gotten much closer to my SIL's in the process

- helped my eldest SIL choose her wedding dress :)

- had some ups and downs with my husband... but we always found our way back up.

- continued discovering my new (temporary? not sure yet) home

- got a (sort of) job

- spoke at the UN in Geneva

Piqued your interest? If so, please accept my apologies for such irregular upkeep, and allow me to share some of my recent experiences with you in the upcoming entries!

Apartment Tour...

I suppose no travel blog would be complete without at least a glimpse of the author's digs.

Well, here you are.

I live on Avenue de Beaumont, a street on the outskirts of Lausanne, Switzerland. Dominique and I have a one room apartment in an adorable building, whose entrance you see here.

Note the geraniums. These are EVERYWHERE, and are considered a compulsory part of the Swiss experience. I kid you not, I've read of some tenants who are required to plant and maintain geraniums in their window boxes, and if the plants die, the tenants must pay to replace them.

The apartment I have lovingly referred to as "The Shoebox" is located on the second floor.

When you open the door, this is what greets you.

Yup. twin-sized bed. It's small, but as several couples my parents' age have told me, "it's when you both can successfully sleep in a twin sized bed that you know you REALLY love each other..."

And as we move slightly to the right, we make our way to the beginnings of our kitchen. Note the fridge, (which is roughly one-sixth the size of your standard American fridge) and the plethora of tomato sauce, canned mackerel and the like. I am NOT a fan of canned mackerel. But heck, it's cheap, and Dominique has accumulated tons of it over the past few months, as it is included in every bag of groceries brought by his parents when they visit. So, we'll make do. Anyone know some recipes with mackerel?

To the right, we have our sink, hot plates and microwave. No oven. So, no home-baked pizza or meatballs... :(. But I guess that just means I'll learn new recipes!

Just out of the shot on the right is the door to our apartment.

On the left-hand side of the apartment, we have a table (read: catch-all for random stuff rather than a truly purposeful table) and chair along the wall, and beyond that, our small built in storage.

Now this space I'm proud of. My home in NJ boasts a fairly substantial walk-in closet, so when Dominique told me I'd have a roughly 18" length of closet, two cubbies and two small drawers to keep my worldly possessions, I was a wee bit concerned.

After the concern (read: panic) passed, I and my dear friend Cristelle put our heads together, space-bagged our little hearts out, and picked up some awesome collapsible storage boxes.

Once I arrived, I found that my stuff fit surprisingly well! The drawers handled my lingerie and books, the cubbies housed my art/writing supplies, techie stuff, practical documents and toiletries, and the closet managed to hold all of the clothes I intend to use within first two thirds of my stay. I am proud :)

PS - Note the yellow rainboots. Yup, they made it. I thought long and hard whether I wanted to allocate that much suitcase and closet space to such loud accoutrements, but I decided that so much of this trip is about finding myself, and these boots are a part of me - the smile up at the rainclouds me. The me I want to be every day. So, they came. Rain, how about you stop harassing my hometown a la Tropical Storm Irene, and come over here - tout de suite!

I'm ready for you.

And here, at last, is my favorite spot in our apartment - our balcony!

I should mention that this isn't all ours; our balcony territory runs from that near-most pole towards the camera, until the end of the length of the building. In all, it's about 7' x 3' of balcony space - not bad at all!

This shot was taken on a pretty cloudy day, but in clearer conditions, you can see the Alps beautifully, with so much depth and detail, right down to the little villages built into the mountain. And watching them at night, when they glitter like a strand of diamonds... good stuff. But of course that stuff is near-impossible to photograph well. So I'll just let you imagine it. :)

Annnd... that concludes the tour! I do have more photos, but Blogger only allows 5 photos per post, so I'll let the photos function as an aesthetic haiku.

Things are going pretty well. We have our up days and down days. I'm learning my way around. The French is coming slowly. I'm not too homesick yet. Jet lag has passed. I've learned how wonderful my husband is, in his own unique way. I've continued to learn how incredible my in-laws are. And I am ready to experience more.

Love to you all - especially everyone affected by Irene!

Until next time,

Cathlene

Bienvenue a Lausanne

Well, here we are. Switzerland’s staring me square in the face.

It’s certainly not a bad thing to have staring at you, as you can’t help but stare back. Lausanne is a truly beautiful place, with a really pleasant fusion of the now and the yesteryear. Clean, modern buildings and sleek metro stations flank detailed old homes and churches, without either element really screaming at the other.

Lac Leman (Lake Geneva) is so peaceful, and when it’s foggy out to the degree that you don’t see the mountains on the horizon, it feels like the ocean. True story - for my entire childhood, as far back as I can remember, I’ve had a fascination with drawing bodies of water surrounded by mountains, with the branches of a tall oak tree on each upper corner of the paper. Switzerland is my childhood drawings come to life.

It’s beautiful, but it's also intimidating. Those two energies leave me desiring to remain a spectator to this place. It’s safe as a spectator, but it becomes fearsome when you start to participate.

Case in point: Dominique and I were walking through the downtown Migros (one of the major grocery chain stores), when I bumped into a man and his shopping cart. I quickly mumbled “Pardon,” but he kept saying something to us as he passed. It sounded like he was scolding me, and while I stayed fairly cool on the outside, I was flipping out inside. Dominique said something to the man, and then told me “I don’t know what he’s saying, but he’s smiling, so it can’t be that bad.” Even if that were true, I became so afraid, wondering what I would do in a similar situation if Dominique weren’t there to smooth things over. How dumb would I look? How foolish? How disrespectful? Will my blunders permit the Swiss to associate my imperfections with that of my nationality - will I be just another bumbling, insensitive American to them??

For the rest of the day, I was pretty spooked, and had no courage to approach strangers or clerks, even to ask the classic tourist question of “Parlez-vous anglais?”

Things perked up as we walked along the park in Ouchy (part of which, la Place de la Navigation, you see above), picked up some Magnum ice cream bars from Coop (the other major Swiss store), and went to the CHUV (the hospital where Dominique studies) for some internet time, as our apartment has no wifi. My heart was so warmed by the love from my friends on Facebook, and speaking to my mom over Google Voice (free international calls! WootWoot!!).

Each interaction I had online was uniquely precious to me, but one really took the cake. A friend-of-a-friend named Dominic started chatting with me on Facebook, and upon hearing his concerns about auditioning for his college’s voice program, I encouraged him that oftentimes, we are better at things than we give ourselves credit for. As soon as I typed those words to him, a French song (one of the scant few I have saved in iTunes) began to play. I was stunned. God totally just shot my advice back to me like a boomerang. I felt that he genuinely wanted to encourage me to trust in my capacity to speak French. And I have.

As I write this, I have also been flipping through my French dictionary to try and decipher the lyrics to the song that played (Amel Bent’s “Ma Philosophie,” in case anyone knows it). I could be wrong, but it actually sounds like a song about self-affirmation, and working hard to achieve your goals. Spooky, huh?

I told a friend today that the intimidation and the beauty of this place balance each other out, and that I am hoping to tip the scales towards beauty. I think the scales have already been tipped.

A demain,

Cathlene

In Media Res

21^st August, 2011

It’s a cloudy morning in Brussels, the sort of morning that coaxes a pensive mind. I am at Gate A33 in Brussels International Airport, awaiting my connecting flight to Geneva after a seven hour flight from JFK.

At present, I am unaccompanied. Dominique’s connecting flight out of Brussels was earlier than mine, and he thus had to sprint through the airport, while I have about two hours to simmer. I’m glad that Dominique was the one to get the earlier flight, as a) he’s the faster runner, and b) I welcome these moments alone to reflect on what’s ahead of me, as this two and a half month trip is rather different from previous trips.

Now that I’m a college graduate, and now that Dominique and I are legally married, we are beginning to think more longterm. This trip is essentially a test, to see how things work for us living together in Switzerland, and determine whether it is a lifestyle we can reasonably pursue. I view these things from a practical as well as emotional perspective, because to me, feeling at peace in a place is essentially as important as whether I can learn the language or find a job. So, this trip is our experiment.

This time more than ever before, I miss my mom. A part of my heart just sinks whenever I think about being away from her and my brother for so long. I hear babies crying throughout the terminal, and quite frankly, I’d love to join the ensemble. I wept as our plane left JFK, more than I can recall ever weeping. I mean, I realize I am a fairly weepy person, but to mourn our separation so much is a bit surprising. But then, my mom has gone through so much these past few years, and continues to do so, that perhaps it makes sense to miss her this much. Plus, as we are so eager to live together as an eventual three-generational household, it seems a bit unfair to think of living apart when we want to be together. It’s ironic, when I think about it. Most people my age are waiting for the moment they can leave their parents and get out of the house, be it via their driver’s license, their out-of-state college choice, or their new lives begun with spouses and families. I’m mostly the reverse, content to spend my Friday nights at home, happy to exchange details of the day with my mom, and eager to do such things for many years to come.

But life has its ebb and flow, and that path can never be solely in our control. At its best, it is a balance of co-creation between ourself and God. It’s a concept that’s easy to say but hard to live, being as it is rooted in placing one’s trust in something incorporeal. But it is what we must do. It’s what I must do - for the next two months, and beyond.

This moment and this spot seem to me a very fine place to begin this blog, which is meant to be a place for me to reflect on my travels and experiences for these next few months. This place is just one stop on the journey, just as this trip is one stop on our journey to find out way as a couple. And as much as the fears of today tend to strand us within today, we are always present within one stop on some larger journey. It is these thoughts which ground me - these, and the gentle loving eyes from my husband as we travel. We can be each other’s personal douleur dans la derriere, but we definitely know when to cut the crap so that we can support each other, and Dominique has absolutely done that.

All in all, there’s fear, but there’s also hope, and much to look forward to. I want to capture that muchness as much as I can, here, in words and maybe sometimes in other media. I hope this place can house something good. And I hope it will be something you enjoy too.

Until next entry,

Cathlene

Starting Again

There is a distinct hesitance in the moment before I put pen to paper. Moments ago, this notebook was untouched, pristine. Did I just vandalize this paper's promise for something worth its existence?

And yet, it's there. The ink has touched the paper, its irrevocable existence colliding, solid from liquid, form from formless, reality from possibility. An idea is born.

There is no rough draft for life. And yet, it is exactly that. Rough. Bumpy. Uncomfortable. Awkward. Embarrassing. Messy. Chaotic.

There is tremendous beauty to be had from these things, despite their unattractiveness. But it remains unexperienced, so long as the ink stays in the pen, the paper left untouched.

(April 6th, 2009)

Today (3/28) is my twenty-third birthday. I wrote the above entry nearly two year ago, but something keeps bringing me back to it. Probably the idea that nothing can happen without a beginning.

This new year is going to have a lot of beginnings. The beginning of my life together with my fiance. The beginning of life in another country. The beginning of real adulthood. It is freaking scary, and there are times when I just want to flee from any change. But if I were to do that, it would be just like leaving that ink in the pen, and leaving that paper untouched. After all, how are we supposed to learn without having the courage to tangibly manifest our ideas? Without manifesting them, we'll never know that perhaps those ideas were really onto something.

So yeah, fear is present. But love is deeper than fear. And the joy of putting pen to paper, idea to reality, thought to voice... that's deeper than fear too.

I look forward to really making something of this blog, and I hope you will join me on the ride.

Now.

I've meant to start this for ages.... thought up lots of things to say, different angles from which to present this blog. But I've let many a moment slip by under the pretext of "I'm too tired/busy/occupied/lazy/uninspired/untalented/unimportant to write anything now." And I could very easily use one or more of those words right now. But if I do that, now dies. Its chance to extend beyond now and into eternity is gone. And while it is neither practical nor necessary to document every waking moment, it is nice on occasion to give glory to this very moment, for everything it is and is not. Now, when viewed in such a way, is such a gift.

So what is now for me? I am sitting in my in-laws' living room, le salon, half listening to my father-in-law (mon beau pere) and my husband (mon mari) discussing the official website for the "democratic" Republic of North Korea. This site is really sad, they blame all their problems on the American government. It makes me so angry how the mass media is so easily used for negativity. But the media isn't to blame, nor is it the media moguls; it's the culture of distrust, blame and selfishness. There is so much to overcome, to heal, to restore to original factory settings.

It's amazing how beautiful life becomes when we experience truth - whether it is found in words, in music, in a smile, an act of kindness, or a loving touch. It's like, all the evil just melts away for a second, and something infinitely more powerful takes its place. I wish that would happen more often. And yet, it can. It can happen as often as we choose to make it happen.

:) ... I started this post about 4 hours ago, and here it is.

Please, love life.

So, I think I'll release this to the world... now.