Some things, I suppose, are universal—such as unfinished garden chores.
Even here in Geneva, Switzerland, where I am on business this week, this quaint pink house across from my hotel has had bags and bags of neatly stacked mulch sitting around the garden waiting to be spread since I arrived here on Wednesday. I’m so anxious to get back into my own garden to complete the long list of springtime chores I considered sneaking out at night to spread the mulch for them. Wouldn’t it be funny if they woke up one morning and found a garden fairy had done their work for them?
Sadly, I forgot my garden gloves. Still, I’ll be checking daily until I leave to see if the gardener has gotten his or her mulch spread. And I’ll be thinking about the second truckload of mulch I still need to purchase and get down in my own garden before long.
I consoled myself in my garden-less funk this afternoon with a leisurely stroll through the Jardin Botanique—the Geneva Botanical Garden. It is clearly early spring here in this part of Switzerland. The forsythia and daffodils are just starting the bloom. The greenhouses are stuffed with hothouse plants although I could hardly linger to examine them the humidity and plant funk smell were so overpowering. My camera lens clouded up and I had to rush back into the cool air before I passed out or my camera busted.
The gardens here also had a small assortment of animals—I suppose to make up for the fact that there is no big zoo here in Geneva. I was amused, however, to see some incredibly noisy Starlings. I’ll need to ask someone if they are the same invasive birds we have problems with in the US. It seemed odd to have them prominently displayed as some rare creature.
There is also a fantastical carousel with animals that seem to have clockwork innards. I’m guessing that’s a nod to the city’s watch and clock fame, but I did have to wonder if the children don’t find the animals somewhat frightening. What do you think?
All is not gardens and strolls while I am in Switzerland. I’m actually here in Geneva for work where I visited the World Health Organization (WHO) today to facilitate a meeting. On driving to the WHO’s massive office complex, we passed an apparent long-term protester who was set up for the day with an elaborate pictorial and slogan display vilifying the WHO for ignoring the plight of millions of children irradiated during the Chernobyl meltdown. I say he was an apparent long-term protester because his display was a bit tatty, he looked tired and bored—oh, and rather than trying to get the attention of the numerous passers-by with his important message he was leaning against a tree while reading the morning paper and drinking his coffee. I suppose even protesters must ease into their work day.
I take it that the WHO and the USA are not universally adored here in Geneva. Among the various themes on “USA s*%&s” (some slogans were quite colorful and inventive!) on the local bus stop shelter was “No WHO. No Bush. No way.” And an official at WHO referred to the US as the “most wealthy and arrogant” country in the world.
Prior to my trip people warned me of two things about Geneva—1) The people are cold and somewhat rude and 2) The prices are outrageous.
Well, from my short experience thus far, I will agree with the astronomical prices. The hotel where I am staying unabashedly publishes a US equivalent of $18 for a bowl of vegetable soup. A club sandwich will set you back $28 US. If you want grilled sole delivered to your room, expect to pay $65 US. And today, at a modest roadside patisserie frequented by the locals I paid $16 US for a half portion salad topped with some cheese and sitting atop a small piece of bread. Cocktails for me and two of my clients here in the hotel came to $68. And we only had one drink each!!! Thank goodness the client picked up the dinner tab. (HAH! I would have billed it back to him anyway.)
So, people were right about the prices here in Geneva. I won’t be shopping, that’s for sure. There are no Swiss watches in my near future.
Given the local sentiments toward the US, I was a little worried that with my less-than-fluent French and what I feared was my obvious American appearance, the reputidly cold Swiss wouldn’t be nice to me. But despite the fact that I’m from the USA, where Bush “s*%cks” and our country is “arrogant,” I have to say that I find the Swiss very charming, helpful and even friendly. It’s not just the hotel where they fawn all over you (as they should for what you’re paying). I stopped at a small local grocery store on the bus route to the hotel to buy some fruit and water. And although I didn’t understand that I had to bag and sticker my fruit, the cashier was very friendly and helpful when I explained “Je ne comprend pas.” Next door at the small wine shop, the young fellow didn’t speak a word of English when I explained the type of Swiss wine I was looking for, so he happily called his brother on the telephone to translate. But before his brother could relay the message a nice man in the store smiled and asked “It’s not easy, is it?” He inquired what I was looking for and helped me make a selection. Amazing, but true, it was a nice bottle of wine for the US equivalent of $8.
And although the Swiss aren’t given to excessive smiling (and in what country can you say they are?) they do not push or shove to get on the bus or ahead of you to get a table or in line. There is no honking in traffic here in Geneva. I have seen young motorcycle men snuff out their cigarettes on the sidewalk and carefully pick them up and put them in their pockets. People politely avail themselves of the helpfully placed plastic dog poo bags posted in dispensers on the city street corners when their dogs answer the call of nature.
I did have to laugh though when I called down to the hotel front desk to inquire if I was dialing my client’s room number correctly since the call didn’t seem to be going through. He tried the number and told me that the call wasn’t completed because the line was “engaged.”
“Oh, that’s the problem!” I said.
“No, that’s the reason!” he laughed.
So, I suppose it’s all in the matter of how you interpret things, eh?
Off to plan a weekend of activities now. I’ll be thinking of all of you toiling away in your spring gardens and somewhat wishing I were doing the same! Please don’t worry about me. I will console myself with some Swiss chocolate.
(I have added a new Geneva album to my photo albums if you want to see more of my trip. I’ll be posting more as I see the sights.)
Robin
Followed by a trip to San Francisco. It’s difficult to go right now because of all that needs to be done in the garden.
Plus, look who showed up yesterday.
Our first bluebird of the season.
And look who I saw in the back yard.
We don’t often see the foxes in the daytime. Better keep my little dogs inside.
Never a dull moment around here.
Robin
Lovely country location just yards from the Chesapeake Bay.
Easy dining in your own hay field. Stylish gourd-style homes. Immediate occupancy.
What do you think? Will I get any takers?
We were very fortunate to have bluebirds set up house in our first year as bird landlords. I am hoping that the rural habitat is as enticing to purple martins as it has been to the bluebirds.
If you’re familiar with the site of these gourd houses or the condo-style houses you see atop tall poles in open spaces but don’t know what they’re for, these are purple martin houses. Purple martins in the east rely almost exclusively on human-provided housing. They prefer tall nesting sites located within 100 feet of a human dwelling and at least 40 feet away from trees and other tall structures where predators can hide.
The purple martins migrate up from South America very early in the season, usually returning to their homes from previous years.
Like some of those aggravating folks who line up even before the plane arrives at Southwest Airlines, the purple martins migrate so early because of the competition for housing. The earlier the bird arrives the greater the chance of getting the location they find desirable.
New colonies like mine are usually first visited and used by birds hatched the previous year who are searching for their own homes. These “scouts” arrive four to six weeks later than the mature purple martins.
According to the scout reports from the Purple Martin Conservation Association, the adult birds are nearly here to our area of Southern Maryland. Well, my houses are ready and I’m playing the dawn song on the outdoor speakers, just in case there are some martins looking for some new digs.
So, we are now open for business. Pass the word.
Reminder: Please register you response to the survey at the top right of this page!
Robin
