Henry

October 24, 2011April 8, 2013

Team Alps

Sarah had a nice post about our recent trip to the Jungfraujoch, but she has left the bulk of the weekend’s activities to me. You see, we took the train back from the Jungfraujoch to Kleine Scheidegg where we had lunch. There is a 10km hike from Kleine Scheidegg to Lauterbrunnen (at the base of the valley) that was supposed to be very scenic. I had wanted to take one or two of the older kids on the walk, but Sarah felt that she would be a sure lock for the “Best Wife Ever” award if she let me enjoy the hike back in the peace and serenity of being by myself. So she offered me the “once-in-a-lifetime” deal of taking the kids back to our village while I walked back down the mountain. How could I say no?

The vertical distance from Kleine Scheidegg (2061m) to Lauterbrunnen (795m) is around 1.3km covered over a 10km walk. This is about a 13% grade averaged over the length of the walk, but for those of us who are not used to walking down that grade, your quads can begin to burn pretty quick (and that fire usually smolders for a few days).

Regardless, it was a beautiful walk through grassy fields, snow, forest, and meandering streets in mountain villages. The sky was perfectly blue and cloudless all day. It took about 2 hours to get back to Lauterbrunnen, and a short bus ride and cable car later I was back in Gimmelwald.

The next morning we awoke to another beautiful morning with plans to take the kids on another hike. Emily and James told me that they had decided yesterday that they were such good mountain kids, that they had started “Team Alps.” This team currently consisted of them, Mom, and Henry. They were interested in seeing if I wanted to join, but they needed to make sure I was ready to carry on the spirit of the team (whatever that was). I felt ready.

Around 11am we took the kids by cable car up to Mürren, and set out along the Northface Trail. This trail starts with a reasonable climb up paved village roads, but quickly turns to grassy passes, wooded trails, and muddy paths dotted with cow manure. Suffice it to say, the kids loved it. We followed the trail about 2.5km in (and 300m up) where we came upon a small farmhouse on the edge of a cliff that led down to a rushing creek.

Our host, Olle, told us that campfires can be set along the trail anywhere if you want to stop and cook sausages. He further demonstrated this point to us by giving us frozen sausages, matches, and paraffin paper to start a fire. He looked me straight in the eye and said, “Look. Your children will not be impressed that you are a doctor, but what will impress them,” he holds up the matches, “is if you can start a fire.” The smile afterwards sold it.

So here we sat, in a field spotted with cow manure, overlooking a rushing mountain stream, in front of a small Swiss farmhouse, roasting sausages over an open fire. The sky was clear, the sun was warm and inviting, the air was crisp, and the sausages were delicious. Team Alps enjoyed a “moment of Zen,” and then headed back home.

If only my damned quads weren’t still burning from the day before, the walk back (and down) would have been that much better. But hey, I can’t let my team members down.

Not when I’m the newest member of the group.

October 20, 2011

Just Call me “Emily’s Mom”

After the three-week fall break, the kids returned to school on Monday, and Emily began 2nd grade. Yes, it’s only October, but her 1st grade teacher had noticed immediately that Emily was ahead of her fellow classmates. See, in Swiss schools, they don’t do much academics in Kindergarten. So, most kids enter 1st grade at age 7 not knowing much more than the alphabet. Emily would have been in 2nd grade in the U.S. anyway, so when her teacher approached us about moving her up, we were not surprised.

But, having just started in a new school in a new country in a new language a few weeks earlier, I was worried about how she would take it emotionally and socially. She had already made friends in 1st grade. How would the other kids react? Well, I am happy to report that Emily is doing great in her first week in her new class. She has already made more friends and likes her new teacher. She speaks German/Swiss German all day long and loves going back to school (even though she has to walk a total of 1 hour and 20 minutes most days — two round trips!). I know I’m biased, but my 7-year-old daughter [singlepic id=474 w=320 h=240 float=left]blows my mind with how brave, how smart, how independent, and how strong she is. I am incredibly proud of her.

Emily’s reputation has spread throughout our town. I guess they don’t get too many German-speaking American kids at their local school, so a lot of people seem to know who we are. I have been stopped several times when I am out at the grocery store, at choir practice, and most recently at a cafe. They usually hear me speaking English to Henry, and they always ask the same thing (in German, of course): “Are you Emily’s mom?” And I proudly answer “Yes.”

October 5, 2011March 31, 2013

Post from Grandma and Grandpa

My parents visited us for a week at the end of September, and we asked them to share their thoughts. Here is what they said:

They are doing great. Sarah, Joe, Emily, James and Henry have adjusted well to their new life in Switzerland and are enjoying it immensely. In short form, that is our assessment from being there for a recent week. For the longer story, read on.

Emily and James have made friends with, among others, four kids from a good family across the street. After school, they are out playing soccer or hockey, riding their bikes or secretly spying on the neighborhood while hiding in their tree fort. It makes a grandparent’s heart swell with glee to hear them chatting away in German as if it is the normal thing American kids do.

We each walked James to school on different days. Walking along hand in hand, we chatted away and stopped to greet the neighborhood black cat as is the morning ritual. Nothing superstitious about this kid. As all the kids were funneling into the building, he ran off to excitedly tell his friends, in German of course, that his Oma/Opa was with him. James is enjoying his half day kindergarten.

Sarah and Judy with Emily nearby were having a conversation about careers and jobs. Overhearing this, Emily piped in: “Kids have a job too. Our job is to go to school and learn as much as we can so we can grow up and be good adults. Parents’ job is to have a house for us, feed us and buy clothes for us.” Judy asked: “What is the job of a grandparent?” Emily quickly replied: “Your job is to love us and care about us.” Emily is doing very well at school, at home and in the neighborhood. She is also the backup German speaker when Mom and Dad run into problems with the language.

Henry’s German is limited, but he knows “spielplatz” (playground) and “dampfbahn” (a miniature train). He, however, speaks the universal language of an uninhibited, gregarious two year old. On the bus or the train, he sits with a family member and chats away, sometimes being engaged with German speaking riders. Whether young or old, those who have been near him leave with smiles on their faces.

Sarah is a gourmet chef of Swiss food. We tasted much of the traditional Swiss fare and thoroughly enjoyed it. She also orchestrated our travels to the Aare River including a raft trip with everyone but Oma and Henry; a bike ride with Emily and James to a neighboring town with the Jungfrau in the background; a city visit to Bern, and our last night at the oldest restaurant in Europe still standing (1371).

Joe seems more relaxed than he has been in the last several years. He enjoys his work at the hospital, orchestrating travels for the family and, of course, watching and cheering the Packers. Ok, he is not more relaxed about the latter.

All in all, Switzerland is a beautiful country and Sarah and Joe are A-Plus Hosts. We say “Thank You” for a truly memorable visit.

Oma and Opa

October 1, 2011March 31, 2013

Lunch on the Alpsee

Sarah is going to kill me for posting this; I’m supposed to be writing about our time at Oktoberfest, but when something occurs like this, you have got to get it down before the moment passes.

We have moved on to very southern Bavaria where we planned to take the kids to see Schloss Neuschwanstein. The morning was decorated with horse-drawn carriage rides, a castle tour, and a lovely wooded hike, and will be covered in another post. We had decided to go to lunch on the Alpsee, and found the perfect little café with outdoor seating. We ordered delicious food, ate and drank in the shadow of King Ludwig II, and decided to let Emily and James go play on the shores of the lake.

Then we noticed Henry had a look on his face. This kind of look, when given by a two-year-old, is often accompanied by a smell. And this was no exception. Only parents will understand what I mean when I say that, what we noticed next indicated that the situation had gone from an unpleasant inconvenience, to an all out emergency. Henry had boiled over.

I raced him upstairs to the woefully unequipped bathroom by the idyllic shores of the Alpsee, stripped him naked and proceeded to bathe him in one sink while washing his clothes in the other. After a heroic effort of cleaning and drying him, he found his mother outside the bathroom with a warm jacket and lots of hugs. I proceeded to clean the walls, floors, and counters and we took him downstairs (strategically washing stairs along the way).

Back on the terrace we found, to our surprise, that we had forgotten about Emily and James. And now, they were nowhere to be found. Sarah scoured the shoreline while I raced Henry back to the hotel. Fortunately the cleaning lady found me in the hallway and told me that my two kids had come home early and she let them in.

I found Emily and James in their room playing with their new Lego sets, and they told me what happened to them. Emily said they thought we were coming down to the water to throw stones with them, but when they looked up, we were both gone. They talked about it, and decided to walk back to the hotel to find us (a very smart move on their part), but were stopped, “by a group of black-haired people who just wanted to take pictures with Emily.”

Asian tourists. They can’t get enough of blond children.