Guten Rutsch!

Awaiting the new year.  Full of soup, avoiding laundry, with the contract for my new flat signed and ready to send off.  Having a nice time over here in Switzerland, even though our puzzle was missing a piece.  Check out those Alps. 

Guten Rutsch, btw, means Happy Sliding (as in, into the new year). Makes me think of a giant toboggan to the future. 

Weihnachtszeit (Christmastime)

It's been a while.  (Actually, it's been even longer.  I wrote this over a week ago. Whoops.)  I'll mostly post pictures, since my wit seems to decrease along with the daylight.  Good news, it's only going to start getting lighter from here on out, which means pithy Megan will be back soon.  Theoretically.  Some things happened in the past month.  I rode a giant Ferris wheel at one of the festive Christmas fairs Basel sets up.  It was really nice.  Also I drank glühwein, which turned my tongue purple.  I kept it a secret but maybe it was obvious to everyone.  I hope I never know the truth, if it's that.

My orchid has decided to stay alive a while longer, apparently I'm doing something right.

An orange peel got snowed on, along with everything else.

This is a tree in Winterthur.  They got way more snow than we did in Basel.  I had to carry my bass through 4 inches of slush.  It wasn't ideal.  Also my shoes are not entirely waterproof.  Alas.

 orchard

Simone wonders why I'm dallying.  Shuko and Zin Young are oblivious.  I stayed the night at Simone's house, which is in the country just outside of Zürich, but only 20 minutes by bus/train from the city center.  She's got this view from her window:

Wow!  Also there are 15 Icelandic ponies down the road a bit.  And some dairy cows.  And quite a lot of quiet. 
My mom arrives in a day and a half.  She brings with her many things from the glorious land of the United States, including a pair of gloves sent by the Jacksons, as a response to what I thought was a fairly amusing photo series, Floppy Mittens:

I'm also looking forward to some tacos, tomatillos in a can, blades for my x-acto knife, jalapeno-stuffed olives (she swears they're good), a new swimsuit, etc.  And a haircut.  And her souffle recipe.  And family for the holidays!  I'm working on Christmas, but that doesn't mean we're not going to have a good time.

***

zürich at night

Indeed, we ended up having quite a nice time, especially at dinner after my last show in a mysteriously windy and bone-chillingly cold church.  Some fun facts about the Grossmünster: its twin domes have been compared to pepper mills (by that great old jerk, Richard Wagner); it was stripped of all interior decoration (and perhaps insulation and heaters?) during the Reformation (since the Reformers didn't seem to want to have any fun); and it's got these lovely stained-glass windows made by Sigmar Polke out of agate.  See photo.  In addition, there's a special room in the back where lots of old books are kept:

Maybe because he knew the cold was nearly unbearable, the director baked us these little buttery bread things shaped like birds.  Cute!  And delicious.  Those are raisin eyes.  I enjoyed eating them.  My mom ate the little tail part.

Including that last performance on Christmas (while it snowed enthusiastically outside) I've played the piece - Weihnachtsoratorium, the Christmas Oratorio, by Bach - a total of 5 times, not counting rehearsals, with two different groups.  I've gotta say, it's a nice piece and all, but I prefer the Nutcracker.  Two hours of dancing candy!  And I like that the Nutcracker doesn't include a strong religious message.  It's inclusive, especially if you ignore that one part about the giant Christmas tree.  And seriously, who *hasn't* dreamed about dancing candy at one point or another?

Anyhow.  Tonight was the last performance of the Bach.  No more concerts for 2010!  I'm so excited I can't persuade myself to go to bed.  Soon.  Tomorrow we've got some sight-seeing to look forward to, and also some black beans to cook, which will, post haste, be turned into taco-filler.  TACOS TACOS TACOS.


Happy days getting longer, everyone!

miraculous discovery

In these:

I found these:

And this note:
"Hi Megan, have some Christmas cookies (Grietzli!) down there in the boxes

I made them with my sister"

Yes, alright, don't mind if I do.

real snow

I just took this picture, walking home at half past twelve.  I had forgotten what it was like to be out in the snow late at night.  It's not dark, really, and it's special.  The snow!  It snowed all day.  Everything was so beautiful.  I think maybe I can bear the cold, when it's so lovely outside. 

I took some pictures during the day, too, though not many.  Some boys having a snowball fight (I threw a few snowballs of my own, later, I couldn't resist, including at a friend who quickly opened her umbrella and deflected my loose snow-grenade - so crafty!), and the courtyard at the Schola.

 Blue-hat lobbed a good one, you can see it hurtling toward Hooded-jacket.

Not one of these bikes is my dear Cilo, of course.

If you can bear it, here's a little video I took while walking through the Matthäusplatz on my way home tonight.  Then I went up Oetlingerstrasse, past the bakery, past Matthäuskirche, and the book store with the typewriters in the window, and the boy who has his painting studio next to the book store.  He was working late.   

snowing prettily

Right now, actually.  Big fluffy flakes, and enough of them to seem dramatic.  The last time I saw this much snow was on stage during a performance of the Nutcracker.  It's nearly sad to think I won't be doing my annual 10 services of that; I'll even miss it.  I am, of course, onto a new phase of my life; here in Europe, you get multiple performances of Bach's Weihnachtsoratorium, the Christmas Oratorio.  My first will be in Winterthur in a couple weeks.  It seems long.  I'll let you know how it goes.

I took this picture yesterday as I rode the train to Zurich, for a Bach B-Minor Mass at the Tonhalle.  It's a truly great hall.  It also has some truly impressive chandeliers.  And I think this photo gives you a good idea of the size and general feel of the hall.  Not huge, but with a certain warmth and quality. 

Ah, before I forget, Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!  A group of Americans here in Basel had a nice dinner, it was just like any family gathering--people unwittingly acting out their roles as the crazy uncle, the bossy older sister, the mildly annoyed cousin.  There was a turkey (which had been draped with bacon prior to baking; apparently it was especially flavorful) and gravy, two kinds of stuffing (one vegetarian), three salads, two kinds of mashed potato, and for desert, three pies: apple, pecan, and pumpkin, with vanilla ice cream and hand-whipped cream.  I ate too much apple pie (couldn't stop) and quickly transformed into the annoyed cousin until, several hours later, I became less physically uncomfortable.  I would have laid down on the floor but it didn't seem appropriate.

The night before I had had my first ever raclette, which is a Swiss "recipe" that calls for pouring melted cheese over boiled potatoes.  The complicated part comes when you're actually melting the cheese; there's a device that looks like a parking garage plus a grill that you plug in and set on the table.  It's got these shovel-like scoops that you fill up with cheese, then slide into their parking spots, under the heating element, which melts the cheese.  On the top of the garage you can - what, grill? toast? sear? who knows - put - different things like zucchini and mushrooms, or better yet, bacon and ham, to get cooked, which can then be draped over your melty cheesey potatoes.  It's important to have white wine on hand so that the cheese doesn't turn into a hard lump in your stomach.

What I mean to convey here is that I'm really porking up.  Watch out, folks, the next Megan you see may be a real fatty.  Prepare yourselves.  On the other hand, I do so much running around with a bass that I must be (at least partially) offsetting my fat intake. 

At any rate, I'll have to watch it because it looks like I'll be having some beach time in southern France this summer.  Turns out that audition went well, and I got accepted to the festival.  Heyy!  Maybe I'll be able to make it through this long, cold winter after all, by imagining the month I'll spend in hot, sunny Aix-en-Provence.  Here's what Cézanne had to say about the area: "I go to the country every day. The scenery is beautiful, so my days pass more pleasantly here than anywhere else."  Sweet.

busy week

This is one of those weeks.  Yesterday was one of those days.  Rehearsal from 10 - 2, then an audition, then rehearsal (for a different project) from 6 - 9.  The audition went OK.  It was for a festival in France, they round up (by audition) an orchestra and a cast of singers and spend the summer putting together a production of an opera, then spend parts of the next fall taking it on tour.  It's well-paid.  They take just one bass for the orchestra.  So I'm not going to hold my breath waiting to get it.  But I did practice a lot.  It went as well as it could have, considering my crazy morning, commuting with bass (not too far but up hills and on trams and down long blocks), trying to put together a quick CV, and warming up for about 3 minutes.  I could feel my legs shaking under me, and hear myself giving inane answers to the questions I was asked.  It was video recorded (though not the question-answer session, thankfully).  Maybe it was better to have been running around before hand; I had less time to get nervous.

In the evening I had the second rehearsal for a Haydn Schöpfung (the Creation) I'll be playing in Basel, my third Schöpfung of the year.  This one's got something on the others I've done, and not just because it's local; it's with a boy choir.  It's really quite different.  When rehearsal started, you could see on the faces of everyone in the orchestra, we couldn't keep from smiling; there's something about their voices.  Also, they're damn loud.  It's a Wall of Sound.  I tried to find a good video of them on youtube but everything up was shot by a parent, and so is invariably from a terrible angle, with bad sound.  One of them (a bit of Messiah) shows my favorite kid (that I could see last night), one of the little ones that sings soprano.  So earnest and cute!  One of them was wearing a t-shirt with a dinosaur on it; my favorite was wearing stripes.  Then there was a kid wearing a shirt with the Wheel of Fortune board on it, on which it was spelled out, "G_  F_CK  Y__RS_LF" and the text at the bottom, "Would you like to buy a vowel?"  Yes, a kid.  This happens elsewhere here, too; at the fall fair, you could hear loud disco songs being played that drop the f-bomb on every chorus.  Oh, German-speaking world.  It's not that they don't know, I think, but maybe just that it doesn't have the same impact?  Weird.  Anyhow.  It's fun working with these kids. 

I don't have any new pictures.  It's mostly white-gray and rainy outside.  (Weird how I only want to show you the city when it's pretty and sunny; I also manage not to take pictures of the ugly parts, like all the smokestacks right on the French/German border, from the pharmaceutical companies, or the refuse-burning station.  I'd say they mar the quaint skyline here.  Everyone tries to ignore them.  So now the secret is out.  Sorry for any bubble-bursting there.)  In other news, I found a pool close to school, and have been swimming a couple times.  It's pretty great.  I'm starting out conservatively so I don't end up with arms too sore to raise over my head (it's happened before). 

Hmm, wait, here's a food picture for you: this chard, carrot, tofu, ginger, garlic thing I put over delicious tiny noodles from the Asian grocery, with cilantro.

absent, and return

So, I know, it's been a while.  I got sick, last weekend, I guess.  Then I had kind of a lame week.  Too much not-understanding makes for a sad Megan.  I've upped my per-day studying amount, I hope it sinks in quickly.  I want to know what's going on in my classes.

As usual, a lot has happened since I last wrote.  Is this how my life used to be?  I was certainly busy, but maybe I had less to report, since the things I was busy with (like ancient printed books and playing Mahler in cow-towns) were too commonplace to mention.  Anyway, duh, now my life is all *foreign* and weird.  Today, for instance, I traveled to Frauenfeld (have I mentioned Frauenfeld before?  I played some Haydn there not too long ago.  North of Zurich) to go to the Buch- und Handpressen-Messe.  In other words, a hand-printing and artist's book fair.  Wait, that's not so unusual, I've been to these before.  (2 hrs from closing on the last day, everyone's got a glass of red wine...)  OK, I take it back.  Some interesting stuff! 

 

 

 I wanted at least two of these little books.  They were only Fr. 25.- each.  Shoulda.  Next time.

I'm starting to get a handle on how to recognize Swiss typographic design.  Sparseness, using type elements in decorative or artistic ways (for instance squares, circles, curves, etc -- things beyond just the type), using clear and basic colors (black, blue, red).  I had neglected to take out any cash before I went, which was probably a good thing, since I would have spent it.  I didn't buy anything, but I did come home with a few things.  I learned, for instance, about something called Gautschen; once upon a time, you did your apprenticeship with the type shop, and learned how to become a setter, or a caster, or a printer, or whatever.  Then you would get grabbed, at some unknown-to-you place and time, and thrown in a fountain.  Kind of like a fraternity hazing.  Then they'd give you a certificate, and you'd be a Real Printer.  I made the mistake of telling one of my local printer friends that I had never been Gautsched (how'd you like my Engli-fied German?!?) and he warned me there might be a dunking in my future.  I asked him to wait until summer, if he would be so kind.  Near the end I met a British printer who lives near Munich, who had seen my books at the Druckwerk table ("I asked the woman why there were so many books in English and she had no idea") and we had a nice chat, as often happens with native speakers.  After some probing he found out I also play bass, and then he told me I wouldn't be able to do both music and printing, if I wanted to be really good at either, and he said I knew it.  I guess so.  I told him I try not to think about it.  Ahem.


What else?  Well, a couple days ago my friend Maria had to turn pages at a concert at just the same time her mom was arriving at the airport on a plane from Transylvania, so I offered to go pick her up.  We had a jolly time!  She doesn't speak English, but has some German, and so we were able to ask basic questions (How Was Your Flight, When Were You In Basel, etc) until we got back to Maria & Sam's place, and I pulled out some paper and a pen.  Then, hoo boy, we got onto the big topics, primarily Hungarian culture, independence, and the way the war subjugated the culture of Hungary.  Observe this diagram.  1956 is the year of revolution.

You can see how the country, which was formerly quite large, got carved up into smaller sections.  The dot in the middle, which is technically in Romania, is where she lives.  Speaking Hungarian, while being forced to learn Romanian, etc.  Some generations-old angers; this all happened after the first WW.  Then we started talking about just one of the many things she brought as gifts from home: curds.  Or, if you're speaking Hungarian, Topfen.  Does it come from a cow, I asked?  "Kuh?"  She said no.  I didn't know the word for goat, so I "Baaaanh"ed and she said no, "Baaahhh."  Ah, of course, sheep.  So I drew those little pictures to make her laugh.  It was successful.  Then I tried to say that I used to buy curd at my local farmer's market (shout-out to Grand Lake!) and I couldn't get it across in my limited German, so I drew the man with the veggies.  She got it.  Phew.

And we had a little bit of awesome weather.  THANK GOODNESS.  I thought I was going to be slowly dulled by the gray, gray days entering my soul, like a melancholic parade of blah.  There was a rowing race on the Rhein on Saturday, what lucky planners of said race.  People got excited about it.  Yelling from the banks, etc. 

Not everyone was yelling, of course.  I think this girl had just about the right idea.

Last night I had the pleasant experience of falling asleep to the sounds of my radiator percolating away.  Sounded like crickets.  Reminded me of the more rural times in my life.  I slept soundly.

Civic Pride

Photo taken Monday, the day the Giants won the World Series.  As far as I could tell, I was one of two people in the entire city wearing a baseball cap, and certainly the only girl.  People kept looking at me.  I felt  more than a little self-conscious.  But you know, it's worth it, to show some civic pride.  That is an Oakland neighborhoods t-shirt, by the way. 

back in Basel.

The time changed in the night.  Therefore it is fine for me to still be in bed right now.  I was expecting a Sunday of relaxation anyway, after my crazy week and a half, so I feel absolutely free to enjoy every lazy bit of this morning.

The rest of the week in Darmstadt was fine.  The music part was good, except for all the standing, but that's normal (it's my life).  The rest, though!  The drive up, of course.  Then on Thursday I had to get back to Basel for a Friday morning presentation at Druckwerk for my Notation class (How Music Was Printed).  Fortunately my rehearsal on Thursday night ended early.  Oh, wait, did I say early?  I meant late.  As in, quarter to twelve.  As in, nearly midnight.  My new theorbo-playing friend and I hopped in the car I rented for the trip and made it back to Basel by 2:30, which seemed pretty good.  People drive really fast on the autobahn.  There aren't any speed limits, you know.  It's pretty impressive.  We were driving as fast as seemed safe in the sad little rental car, which was only about 130 - 140 kph (about 85 mph).  He was going home to see his wife for a night, and helping me out with the manual transmission at the same time.  Thanks, man. 
By noon the next day we were headed for 4 hours through traffic back to Darmstadt, and the one performance of the opera.  Here are some pictures I took at the dress rehearsal; the opera was done with traditional Baroque gestures, there was a choreographer helping the singers with their hands and expressions. 

The woman in the bottom picture was definitely the best of the vocal group; great voice, good presence, elegant, fit the part.  But, funny, I noticed during the recitatives -- the part where the singers move the action along, have dialog, etc, and are accompanied only by the continuo group (harpsichord, cello, theorbo) -- she would just say whatever she wanted, and sometimes only vaguely stick to what was written.  Mostly her notes were right, but more importantly, I guess, she Seemed right. 
One really nice part about the production was the background "sets"; the stage set had been constructed with a screen in the back, and throughout the opera they projected old images (prints, duh) of palaces, gardens, etc from the time.  You can see an example of this in the top picture.  And from the audience, the effect was quite convincing.  Well done, creative group.
All in all, for the trouble of getting up there, getting around in Darmstadt, and finally coming back to Basel, I'm not sure it was worth it.  I know that it wasn't my problem that they hadn't secured a bass player for the opera, but somehow I made it my problem.  Lesson learned?  Probably not.

taking pictures during the recitatives.

Here are some sights from the drive back up to Darmstadt from Basel on Friday (a perfect, beautiful day, too bad we were in a car). 

fall colors

awesome 18-wheeler

A few pictures from the time in Munich, too:

rainy day

felt store

All of a sudden, I found myself a little jealous of any friend of mine who has A Job and gets to play in a hall like this all the time.  What a pleasure.  I didn't get a great picture of the Gasteig (the hall), but here's one that somebody else took and put up on Wikipedia:

 

It's maybe a little hard to tell from the picture but looking into the hall from the stage almost gave me a sense of vertigo; all the angles, and the seats swooping toward you.  Nice.

manual transmission? no, please, no.

Hi from Darmstadt, Germany.  It's near Frankfurt.  Getting here today easily shaved a week or two off the length of my life. 

Yesterday I was also in Germany, for a little while.  I'd had a concert in Munich (at the same hall where the Munich Philharmonic plays, more on that later!) the night before, then got on a bus and lay around for 6 hours while we drove back to Basel.  Back to my flat around 2 PM, first thing I did was check my email.  "Dear Megan, we missed you yesterday, we are hoping you can make it to one of the rehearsals today" -- in Darmstadt. 

Here's the deal.  Three weeks ago, I got a call at 10 PM asking if I could do an opera with the Kammerchor Darmstadt.  I said yes, but I'd have to miss the first rehearsal; I'd be playing in Munich.  But let me know, etc etc, and then I could travel directly from my other concert.  I heard nothing, nothing.  I called the guy who had called me, twice even, and heard nothing; I assumed it wasn't happening.  Literally the FIRST confirmation about the gig I got was yesterday, sent at noon.  Yesterday!  What happened to, Here's the rehearsal plan, Here's the location of the concert, or, better yet, Here's A Contract?!?  It seemed impossible to do anything but go, so I looked at the train schedule and figured I'd take the 9:13 this morning.

8:45 I got to the train station.  Oddly, it wasn't crowded at all.  I went to a ticket counter and asked if I could buy a ticket up here today, and was informed that the entire German Railway was on strike, there would be no trains at all today.  So.  I still had enough time, Darmstadt is near Frankfurt, and about 3 hours from Basel.  My first rehearsal wasn't until 2, so I figured I could find a car and be there with time to spare.  I walked next door to the train station to the rental car place, and discovered it would cost me around Fr. 500.- which, certainly, was too much.  Oh, let me remind you that I have my bass and a suitcase with me (ready for 4 nights away from home).  Heavy.

500 chf is too much, duh.  So I went home (Heavy!!) and started looking around for a cheaper car.  After an hour of calling different rental car agencies and talking with the organizers of the project, I finally decided to rent a car just one way, Switzerland to Germany, and I could get a cheaper price on it because it was originally from Germany and wouldn't have the one-way fee.  It would come to approximately Fr. 270.-.  Also, I was told it would be automatic transmission.

They were wrong, as it turns out.

It was a Mercedes, something kind of resembling a Toyota Matrix, hatchback-style.  They didn't even have time to clean it, I needed to leave so quickly.  Crumbs all over the floor.  Anyway.  I can't drive a stick.  I mean, I can, sort of.  I did.  I got here.  I was able to drive home, mostly in second gear, telling myself the whole time, People who are way dumber than I am do this all the time.  I can do it.  And I got back to Efringerstrasse with only one stall, so I was feeling OK about things.  Bass and suitcase in car, I headed for the autobahn; that went fine, too.  The weather was beautiful, the trees red and orange, and southern Germany is all wheat fields and far-off hills and dark woods of skinny trees.  Lovely.  I checked the radio, heard Karma Chameleon and some random German-language pop songs.  Then I hit the construction.  Oh My God.  Two lanes, but so, so skinny.  The choice was either be in the slow lane behind all the trucks (What Gear Should I Be In?  What If I Have To Stop Suddenly?  What If I Stall On The Autobahn?!?  What If I Destroy My Bass On The Way To This Dumb Gig??!?!?) or to be in the fast lane (Can I Successfully Navigate This Car With Only An 8" Cushion Between Me And The Wall, and Me And The 18-Wheeler Beside Me?).  I went back and forth, as needed.  White-knuckled.  Alternating feeling feelings of panic and dread kept crushing up my shoulders, and I kept feeling tired, probably from all that panicking.  When I finally got to Darmstadt, around 2:05, I made my way to the hall, and started stalling.  I stalled at the first stoplight.  Then I saw a parking spot, and stalled turning around to get back to it.  Then I stalled turning onto the street.  Then I tried to park and stalled three times in a row and ended up asking someone on the street to help me park it but no one would and I finally was able to pull in the wrong way into a different spot across the street.  Stall.  Stall.  Stall.  Oh My God. 

Reading back on this it sounds like a comedy.  Isn't there some movie like this?  Someone driving and Jerky Stop, Jerky Stop, all over town?  That was me!  Almost funny.  Not funny really at all.  But maybe kind of funny.

Plus, by the time I got to the hall, sightreading an opera that no one has ever heard, four rehearsals in, didn't seem so bad. 

I will never, ever, ever rent a car with manual transmission again.  Remind me.  Don't let me.  It's not worth it.  I'd rather pay the extra. 
Anyway, I found some people in the orchestra to help me drive the car around, so you don't have to worry about me getting it back to the rental company... phew.

Now, a well-deserved rest sleep.  Pictures to follow!

Well How About That.

Got an email yesterday from the College Book Art Association.  Back in August I submitted sum-of-parts to their Juried Show, which will be up at their annual conference this coming January.  Turns out, it got in, and also won an award -- the Best Crafted Student Work Award.  Hey!  But also, huh?  I wrote them immediately to make sure it wasn't a mistake; I only got the student membership because I am a student, not because I am a Student.  (I know that makes sense.)  I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm a professional!  I just happen to be getting a Master's degree right now.  (It's nothing.  I play the bass all day.  And learn how to play the harpsichord.  And about fugue structure.  In German.)  Anyway, they wrote me back and said Of course they knew it was me, and since I am technically a student right now I totally qualify for/deserve the award.  I guess I don't really understand the parameters, I would reserve that award for people who are just starting out in the field, not "seasoned pros" or however I think of myself, but maybe it simply means, People Who Are In School.  For anything.  I feel fraudulent in the same way as I feel about getting a Master's in music after receiving my Bachelor's in studio art.  But whatever, man.  They've seen my CV.  I accept.  Oh yeah, the award is $100, plus a $400 travel grant to fly to Bloomington, Indiana in January and attend the conference.  I told the CBAA they can give that $400 to some real Student somewhere who otherwise wouldn't be able to make it. 

School is going fine.  In some classes, I feel pretty smart.  Yes, I Understand the structure of a Minuet written during the classical period.  In other classes, I feel super dumb.  No, I don't understand German.  No, really, I don't understand German.  OK, a little, oh, wait, nope.  Also, it seems like some people in this one class in particular (the one in German) are fresh from a bunch of other theory classes and so have answers that I'm not even prepared to look for.  But maybe if I had just a little more German.  I'll keep you updated.  Today was less awful, I kept interrupting the teacher to ask questions in English.  It seemed to help some of the other people around me, so I didn't feel bad.

I tied some frets on David's bass this week.  It was a bit trying.  I've mostly gotten it, and it seems pretty good so far, but my fingers were pretty raw for a day or so after.  Here are some arty shots of the frets.

pegbox.

 And, look at this nice day!  What would you guess the temperature to be out there?  50?  60?  70?  It could have been any of those, I thought.  Wrong again.  It was 31.  Holy Crap.  I didn't think it was allowed to be that cold when the sun was out.  Against the rules of nature, or something.  Alas, no.

HAND-kerchiefs.

Duh.

it has taken a turn toward winter

Foggy, almost like San Francisco, but not so low.  And cold.  About as cold as the East Bay gets in winter.  Except here it's only cold outside.  Heeeeey.  Did laundry today, and put it out on the balcony hoping the sun would come out.  Heh.  Nope.

Hankerchiefs: a very important part of my existence in this cold, cold world.

Getting to know more of Basel, I've been walking to and from school because it seems too cold to ride my bike (weak!) and have found some nice things on my way.  Today I noticed this public flowerbed that I've passed a number of times and never seen, which astounds me, because it is full of some pretty epic chard and kale plants. 

 I took this picture of my glove on one of the chard leaves for scale.  

Basel is funny.  It always kind of weirds me out how small it is.  For instance: the other day I was in a shoe store buying these funny slippers for myself (10chf). 

I dawdled on my way up to the counter and a girl slipped in front of me to exchange a pair of shoes.  Zing.  Later that day, while on the bus, I saw the same girl (across town) riding her bike down the street.  Then, in the train station on my way to Zurich, I saw her again.  THEN, two nights ago, I was walking home from having dinner with some friends, they live in another part of town from me, and Who Was Going The Other Way?  Yes.  Same girl.  Weird.  I wonder if she notices me.  There are other people I've seen twice, but three+ times?  Crazy.

I've been a little stuck in a cooking rut lately.  Rice.  Vegetables.  Rice.  Salad.  Rice.  What else do I know how to make?  Besides cereal?  Yeah.  Well, anyway, I got up the gumption to make a pumpkin curry for a friend who came over for lunch, and decided to make the curry paste from scratch.  Amazing!  So good, so easy.  Onion, garlic, some kind of hot pepper (we don't have serrano or jalapeno peppers here), a bunch of cilantro, a little bit of water.  Grind up with food processor.  Put in a pot with coconut milk.  Add vegetables.  Cook until done.  Yes.

Since I've been walking instead of taking the tram, I rewarded myself with this plant.  Cost the same amount as tram fare.  Hello Viola.

I also finally have a key to the bass locker at school, and now can keep one of the whales there as needed.  Plus, it means I can practice at school.  It feels like I get a lot more done at school than at home.  Ah, look.  I appear to be doing work.  I wonder how long I can keep it up?  What a skeptic!