As I sit comfortably nestled in the Alps of the Bernese Oberland, I am painfully aware of the wildfires that are consuming the Rocky Mountains. These mountains here get rain every other day, and myself and the other Colorado vollie, Carly, are blowing hard to send it back west. It's been such a surreal experience to follow the progress of the fire and evacuations via facebook feed; I feel a little selfish, enjoying these bright, sunny, fire-free days here while people back in Colorado are losing homes (and pets, and lives, and Girl Scout camps).
These mountains here are not so different from the Rockies, and though the altitude is significantly lower, the same sort of mountain-culture is still here. Granted, people in Adelboden smoke more cigarettes and backpack a little less, but I've really enjoyed the few very Swiss mountaineering moments. Klettersteig, a cross between hiking and rock climbing, has become the best thing to ever happen in my life. Think scrambling, but with a harness. Up the side of a mountain. It is EXACTLY what eight-year-old Cate would have wanted as a career. And also it makes me feel like Katniss Everdeen.
On a potentially cooler level, though, this week we hiked to the peak of Elsigenalp (called Elsighorn, because the Swiss feel it is important to label different parts of the same mountain differently). This was my third peak I've hiked to in the valley, but the first where I've had a view, and it was absolutely breathtaking. The hike from a lower alpine lake to the peak was going to be myself, one other summer vollie and the Program Director, Katie, but at the last minute another vollie and two from the Ohio troop jumped in. The girl, Emily is this really sweet sixteen-year-old who was actually quite nervous about the longer hikes, but she matched us step for step all the way up to the beautiful view that met us at the top. From the orange "X" carved into the rock, we could see the mountains two valleys away, every home in Adelboden, and Thunersee, a lake really far in the distance. At some point, the clouds briefly rolled in around us, and Emily couldn't stop looking around in awe. "I've never been in a cloud before," she said, and I promptly got goosebumps.
Katie got really excited about searching for Edelweiss, and since we're Girl Scouts, we obviously had to sing the song once we found one. You know how the lyrics are all, "Small and white, clean and bright?" Yeah... They're not. I mean, yes, they're small, but real, live, Edelweiss are kind of fuzzy little grey flowers with these weird yellow growths in the middle. When I told Katie this, she looked like I had just killed her puppy (because Edelweiss are her favorite thing ever), but it worked out because when we started singing "Edelweiss," a rainbow came out in the valley beside us. A rainbow. It was like someone was apologizing for making Edelweiss so awkward-looking by letting us pretend we were in The Sound of Music.
On a completely unrelated, but really sweet note, there's a Girl Scout/Guide superstition about this grace called the Johnny Appleseed Grace, and how if you sing it, it will rain. Pax Lodge is the WAGGGS World Centre in London, and they've been singing the Johnny Appleseed Grace to send rain to Colorado. If that's not a supportive international community, I don't know what is.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
My Life is Too Cool for Words
...so I ended the previous blog post with a claim that we would go to Häm's Bistro, but little did I know it would be probably the best thing to ever happen in my entire existence.
We've just finished our potluck Summer Solstice dinner, right? We're hanging out, and finally we meander down the path to Häm's, which is this little local bistro that sits up in our valley about a five minute walk from Our Chalet. It's cute. We've been there a couple times before to hang out, and I think Häm, the man who runs it, already knows we're going to be regulars.
This bistro, just so you know, rarely has more than five people in it besides the twelve of us we usually roll in with. And who is at Häm's this specific night?
Riot police. There are police with their police uniforms on and two giant riot police trucks chilling next to this building which is probably smaller than the average dorm room. They're not raiding the bistro or anything, though- they're having a drink and hanging out. Eventually we start joking with them about practicing their mad riot-control skills on us, and Jess gets handed the keys to the truck. We then proceed over to the riot police trucks where she climbs up with two of the guys and turn on the sirens and riot hose.
The night ended with a few of us playing Uno with the riot police. I'm not making this up.
On an entirely different page, this morning I woke up at 5am to watch the cows of Adelboden make their way up to the higher alps, where they will graze for the summer. It's a huge deal each June, and the entire valley turns up to watch. Because the Swiss are all apparently morning people, it happens pretty much in the middle of the night.
I bussed up to the base of the alp with Naomi (the summer vollie from New Zealand) and two adults leading the troop that just arrived at Our Chalet. The five girls were still asleep, but the two leaders were these absolutely lovely women from Ohio, and the four of us together had a great time watching the cows, making fun of the rebel cow who decided to go hang out by the parked cars, and taking a gondola up the dramatic landscape to the top of Engstliganalp. Because Naomi and I had our dashing red staff neckers on, we all got a discount on the gondola, which is further proof that being a Girl Scout is like being dipped in Awesome Juice.
From the top, we could see the long line of cows winding their way up the steep, rocky paths and their very, very patient owners who moved them along. The leaders bought us hot chocolate from the restaurant up there because they are probably the nicest people ever, and we spent some time lounging around and listening to them give us love and life advice.
To make it back in time for breakfast, we gondola-ed down, and had just begun to walk back to the bus, when who should drive by? Häm, the man himself. He offered the four of us a ride back to Our Chalet, which is evidence that a) he is a kind man and b) we go to the bistro way too much. We accepted, made it home in time for toast and coffee, and a good time was had by all.
Is this real life?
We've just finished our potluck Summer Solstice dinner, right? We're hanging out, and finally we meander down the path to Häm's, which is this little local bistro that sits up in our valley about a five minute walk from Our Chalet. It's cute. We've been there a couple times before to hang out, and I think Häm, the man who runs it, already knows we're going to be regulars.
This bistro, just so you know, rarely has more than five people in it besides the twelve of us we usually roll in with. And who is at Häm's this specific night?
Riot police. There are police with their police uniforms on and two giant riot police trucks chilling next to this building which is probably smaller than the average dorm room. They're not raiding the bistro or anything, though- they're having a drink and hanging out. Eventually we start joking with them about practicing their mad riot-control skills on us, and Jess gets handed the keys to the truck. We then proceed over to the riot police trucks where she climbs up with two of the guys and turn on the sirens and riot hose.
The night ended with a few of us playing Uno with the riot police. I'm not making this up.
On an entirely different page, this morning I woke up at 5am to watch the cows of Adelboden make their way up to the higher alps, where they will graze for the summer. It's a huge deal each June, and the entire valley turns up to watch. Because the Swiss are all apparently morning people, it happens pretty much in the middle of the night.
I bussed up to the base of the alp with Naomi (the summer vollie from New Zealand) and two adults leading the troop that just arrived at Our Chalet. The five girls were still asleep, but the two leaders were these absolutely lovely women from Ohio, and the four of us together had a great time watching the cows, making fun of the rebel cow who decided to go hang out by the parked cars, and taking a gondola up the dramatic landscape to the top of Engstliganalp. Because Naomi and I had our dashing red staff neckers on, we all got a discount on the gondola, which is further proof that being a Girl Scout is like being dipped in Awesome Juice.
From the top, we could see the long line of cows winding their way up the steep, rocky paths and their very, very patient owners who moved them along. The leaders bought us hot chocolate from the restaurant up there because they are probably the nicest people ever, and we spent some time lounging around and listening to them give us love and life advice.
To make it back in time for breakfast, we gondola-ed down, and had just begun to walk back to the bus, when who should drive by? Häm, the man himself. He offered the four of us a ride back to Our Chalet, which is evidence that a) he is a kind man and b) we go to the bistro way too much. We accepted, made it home in time for toast and coffee, and a good time was had by all.
Is this real life?
Thursday, June 21, 2012
On Wednesdays, We Wear Navy
Our uniform at Our Chalet is navy. Navy pants and a white or navy polo, and in case you were wondering, navy on navy is a really good look. In an odd turn of events, we received our red Chalet scarves (or neckerchiefs, as I have fondly come to refer to them) on the peak of Bunderspitz, and in an odder turn of events, I really like the thing. For starters, the navy outfit and red necker are so hipster and alternative I almost can't handle myself, and also it represents being part of a strong, albeit unfashionable, tradition of badass women of Our Chalet. And they had to wear skirts and be ladylike while they were being badass all those eighty years ago, so a red neckerchief really isn't much to compare.
As summer vollies, half of us spend about every other week on program (leading girls in the climbing of mountains, jumping off of bridges, etc.), so the weeks in between are spent on guest services, which is a fancy way of saying cooking, cleaning, and giving really awesome tours where you try your hardest not to make up facts. There were certainly some struggles, since I am horrible at folding fitted sheets and my work with the till at the shop left much to be desired. But other than that, the sun was shining, the music in the kitchen was a beautiful combination of "Call Me, Maybe" and 90's music, and my fellow navy-wearers and I bonded over a variety of shenanigans, some of which I will avoid writing about so as to protect the innocent.
A selection of these shenanigans and their consequences:
1. Woke up with half of my shoes in saran wrap, the others up the flagpole
2. A One Direction poster and a Lord of the Dance poster hanging in our stairwell
3. Discovered at 1am teenage girls shouting Twinkle, Twinkle outside the staff house at us
4. Learned and was filmed doing the dance to various S Club song while cleaning dishes
5. Hardcore Parkoured down the staircase of the staff house. Also on film. Chanting "USA! USA!"
There were two Girl Scout troops here, too, and though those of us on guest services didn't do all of the hiking/climbing/exploring with them that program did, we spent a ton of time hanging out with them, being bullied into chugging chocolate fondue, joking around and generally enjoying their young and exuberant company. It was definitely sad to see them go, but I'm excited for the incoming girls tomorrow. This is not before more shenanigans on the part of our staff, though- in the books for today is scaling the Main Chalet building via the fire escape ladder, a potluck Summer Solstice Shindig and a trip to our local favorite, Häm's Bistro. Oh, to be young and in navy...
As summer vollies, half of us spend about every other week on program (leading girls in the climbing of mountains, jumping off of bridges, etc.), so the weeks in between are spent on guest services, which is a fancy way of saying cooking, cleaning, and giving really awesome tours where you try your hardest not to make up facts. There were certainly some struggles, since I am horrible at folding fitted sheets and my work with the till at the shop left much to be desired. But other than that, the sun was shining, the music in the kitchen was a beautiful combination of "Call Me, Maybe" and 90's music, and my fellow navy-wearers and I bonded over a variety of shenanigans, some of which I will avoid writing about so as to protect the innocent.
A selection of these shenanigans and their consequences:
1. Woke up with half of my shoes in saran wrap, the others up the flagpole
2. A One Direction poster and a Lord of the Dance poster hanging in our stairwell
3. Discovered at 1am teenage girls shouting Twinkle, Twinkle outside the staff house at us
4. Learned and was filmed doing the dance to various S Club song while cleaning dishes
5. Hardcore Parkoured down the staircase of the staff house. Also on film. Chanting "USA! USA!"
There were two Girl Scout troops here, too, and though those of us on guest services didn't do all of the hiking/climbing/exploring with them that program did, we spent a ton of time hanging out with them, being bullied into chugging chocolate fondue, joking around and generally enjoying their young and exuberant company. It was definitely sad to see them go, but I'm excited for the incoming girls tomorrow. This is not before more shenanigans on the part of our staff, though- in the books for today is scaling the Main Chalet building via the fire escape ladder, a potluck Summer Solstice Shindig and a trip to our local favorite, Häm's Bistro. Oh, to be young and in navy...
Friday, June 8, 2012
My Friends Convince Me to Jump Off a Bridge
All these years people have been trying to convince me that peer pressure is a bad thing, but I would like to make a case for peer pressure, because today I jumped off a bridge and it was thrilling and terrifying and would not have happened if not for some good, old-fashioned public support.
Let me say that I am probably not the first person you would assume might be scared of extreme heights and sports. I was the ropes course director for three summers at Girl Scout camp and I climb rocks and other such things infrequently but with enthusiasm. Don't get me wrong, small noises at night completely turn me into a pansy, but climbing and jumping off things is generally not my issue.
Today as part of our training, we climbed, repelled, zip-lined and ropes coursed our way around this area outside of Adelboden, and the time came to do a pendulum swing, which is where you jump off of this small little platform attached to a 25 meter bridge (don't ask me for the conversion to feet, because I'm much too tired for math right now). As soon as the rope was attached to my full body harness, I climbed over the railing that is supposed to stop cars and proceeded to scare the crap out of myself by looking down to the open air where I was supposed to jump. Holy. Crap. Free falling is pretty much anti-evolution, and therefore my panic is completely excusable, though inconvenient. I stood on that little metal panel for 3 minutes, and the entire time about 10 of my Swiss nearest and dearest chanted, made jokes and somehow convinced me to step off into the abyss.
Since I have yet to try heroin and no one has talked me into other destructive behavior , I think I can fairly say that peer pressure is a wonderful, guiding force that generally has lead me to do things that make me a more interesting person. There have been the occasionally missteps, of course (goucho pants?), but I would most certainly not have jumped off a bridge today unless all the cool kids were going to do it, too.
Let me say that I am probably not the first person you would assume might be scared of extreme heights and sports. I was the ropes course director for three summers at Girl Scout camp and I climb rocks and other such things infrequently but with enthusiasm. Don't get me wrong, small noises at night completely turn me into a pansy, but climbing and jumping off things is generally not my issue.
Today as part of our training, we climbed, repelled, zip-lined and ropes coursed our way around this area outside of Adelboden, and the time came to do a pendulum swing, which is where you jump off of this small little platform attached to a 25 meter bridge (don't ask me for the conversion to feet, because I'm much too tired for math right now). As soon as the rope was attached to my full body harness, I climbed over the railing that is supposed to stop cars and proceeded to scare the crap out of myself by looking down to the open air where I was supposed to jump. Holy. Crap. Free falling is pretty much anti-evolution, and therefore my panic is completely excusable, though inconvenient. I stood on that little metal panel for 3 minutes, and the entire time about 10 of my Swiss nearest and dearest chanted, made jokes and somehow convinced me to step off into the abyss.
Since I have yet to try heroin and no one has talked me into other destructive behavior , I think I can fairly say that peer pressure is a wonderful, guiding force that generally has lead me to do things that make me a more interesting person. There have been the occasionally missteps, of course (goucho pants?), but I would most certainly not have jumped off a bridge today unless all the cool kids were going to do it, too.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Campfire at Our Chalet
A few important and awesome things have happened since last I wrote:
1. I moved from the little red tent of death into Stöckli, the staff house (where I now room with the lovely Canadian Heather) (yes, my part of the room is just as terrible as you imagine it is) (don`t judge me)
2. Climbed two mountains, including an entirely unnecessary side of one mountain when I got horribly lost. My childhood orienteering practice clearly did not prepare me for this.
3. I dived into an Alpine lake surrounded by patches of snow, which was colder and more invigorating than anything I have yet experienced and/or hopefully will ever experience again.
4. Yesterday as part of our staff training we went to Interlaken (about an hour from Adelboden) which included exploring 10 waterfalls, making fun of the Hooters restaurant we saw on the main street, and hanging out at a chocolate factory.
Better than any of the above, though, was a recent campfire we had here at Our Chalet. The only time I really get homesick here is when we have campfire, and it`s because I can`t help but miss the people and songs that have surrounded me every campfire since I was 12. Tonight, half a world away at Camp Tanglefoot up in northern Iowa, my Girl Scout BFFs will sings songs and burn things and enjoy each other`s company, and it`s definitely difficult not to be with them. Apart from anything else, I like the nightly struggle to find functioning matches and non-damp wood. Searching time is bonding time.
A few days ago we had 30+ Girl Guides ages 11-15 who were visiting from England for just one day on their way around Switzerland. We led crafts with them, played a few games, and taught them a song or two, which was particularly amusing since they spent a good amount of time trying to mimic American accents on the call-and-repeat songs. It was a pretty cool group of girls, full of the excitement, self-consiousness, cockiness, humor and awareness that generally accompanies that age. While I pretended to understand the craft I was teaching them, we chatted about The Hunger Games ("Peeta`s really hot!"), school ("Why do you call University 'college'?") and what they want to be when they grow up ("Prime Minister! ...Or an actress.").
The group was late coming to campfire in the evening, and I was quite dissapointed by everyone`s ambivalence towards canceling, especially since 13-year-old Cate would have been heart broken if she had gone all the way to a Girl Scout World Centre and had not had a campfire. In the end, though, thanks in part to my ability to guilt people into doing the right thing, we had the campfire when the girls showed up.
We listened to an Alpine horn player and sang along with him, and we sang a lot of really funny, active, wonderful songs that sounded super posh in that Surrey accent. Also, it turns out that adult Girl Scouts and Guides ALL OVER THE WORLD hate the Moose song (you know the one, and if you don't, I'm not teaching you) but we are all really good at acting like we like it anyway. The best bit, though, was the last song before Taps when the assistant program manager, Rhianna, stepped forward to begin a simple piece called "One Voice Singing."
She started the song standing alone, and bit by bit, each of us stood and joined, ending with all of us in a circle singing in unison. The lyrics and tune are nothing special, just, essentially, "We are one voice and we are singing...we are not alone," but the song brought tears to my eyes because I could feel the change in the room as the girls recognized that they were part of something bigger than themselves. Rhianna prefaced the song by telling the girls that they were part of the 10 million girls who make up Girl Guiding and Scouting and that they each had with them the power to make a difference, to make the world a better place. This, to me, is what scouting is all about- the recognition that you have a place in the world and the power to change it. These Girl Guides went from their silly songs about fishing right into young women who understood this international community and the responsibility they have as members, and it was honestly one of the most amazing things to witness.
Of course, once the campfire was over, they went back to their regular, semi-mature, semi-mob mentality selves on their way out the door, but I feel lucky to be part of such a community that gives girls the opportunity to see themselves as something more, even if only for a moment.
1. I moved from the little red tent of death into Stöckli, the staff house (where I now room with the lovely Canadian Heather) (yes, my part of the room is just as terrible as you imagine it is) (don`t judge me)
2. Climbed two mountains, including an entirely unnecessary side of one mountain when I got horribly lost. My childhood orienteering practice clearly did not prepare me for this.
3. I dived into an Alpine lake surrounded by patches of snow, which was colder and more invigorating than anything I have yet experienced and/or hopefully will ever experience again.
4. Yesterday as part of our staff training we went to Interlaken (about an hour from Adelboden) which included exploring 10 waterfalls, making fun of the Hooters restaurant we saw on the main street, and hanging out at a chocolate factory.
Better than any of the above, though, was a recent campfire we had here at Our Chalet. The only time I really get homesick here is when we have campfire, and it`s because I can`t help but miss the people and songs that have surrounded me every campfire since I was 12. Tonight, half a world away at Camp Tanglefoot up in northern Iowa, my Girl Scout BFFs will sings songs and burn things and enjoy each other`s company, and it`s definitely difficult not to be with them. Apart from anything else, I like the nightly struggle to find functioning matches and non-damp wood. Searching time is bonding time.
A few days ago we had 30+ Girl Guides ages 11-15 who were visiting from England for just one day on their way around Switzerland. We led crafts with them, played a few games, and taught them a song or two, which was particularly amusing since they spent a good amount of time trying to mimic American accents on the call-and-repeat songs. It was a pretty cool group of girls, full of the excitement, self-consiousness, cockiness, humor and awareness that generally accompanies that age. While I pretended to understand the craft I was teaching them, we chatted about The Hunger Games ("Peeta`s really hot!"), school ("Why do you call University 'college'?") and what they want to be when they grow up ("Prime Minister! ...Or an actress.").
The group was late coming to campfire in the evening, and I was quite dissapointed by everyone`s ambivalence towards canceling, especially since 13-year-old Cate would have been heart broken if she had gone all the way to a Girl Scout World Centre and had not had a campfire. In the end, though, thanks in part to my ability to guilt people into doing the right thing, we had the campfire when the girls showed up.
We listened to an Alpine horn player and sang along with him, and we sang a lot of really funny, active, wonderful songs that sounded super posh in that Surrey accent. Also, it turns out that adult Girl Scouts and Guides ALL OVER THE WORLD hate the Moose song (you know the one, and if you don't, I'm not teaching you) but we are all really good at acting like we like it anyway. The best bit, though, was the last song before Taps when the assistant program manager, Rhianna, stepped forward to begin a simple piece called "One Voice Singing."
She started the song standing alone, and bit by bit, each of us stood and joined, ending with all of us in a circle singing in unison. The lyrics and tune are nothing special, just, essentially, "We are one voice and we are singing...we are not alone," but the song brought tears to my eyes because I could feel the change in the room as the girls recognized that they were part of something bigger than themselves. Rhianna prefaced the song by telling the girls that they were part of the 10 million girls who make up Girl Guiding and Scouting and that they each had with them the power to make a difference, to make the world a better place. This, to me, is what scouting is all about- the recognition that you have a place in the world and the power to change it. These Girl Guides went from their silly songs about fishing right into young women who understood this international community and the responsibility they have as members, and it was honestly one of the most amazing things to witness.
Of course, once the campfire was over, they went back to their regular, semi-mature, semi-mob mentality selves on their way out the door, but I feel lucky to be part of such a community that gives girls the opportunity to see themselves as something more, even if only for a moment.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)