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Welcome to my blog! Over the next 4 months I'll be posting about my life and studies in Italy and I hope you'll follow along.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Special Edition: a non italiana in svizzera

(And to all you non italiano speakers, that's Switzerland.)

Mamma mia! What a day. Everything was going relatively well until Milan, with the exception of freaking out on the bus because we literally sat at a 5-way intersection for 8 minutes without moving. Coming from Jersey, I have seen my fair share of intentional intersection blocking and cutting people off, but geez! Easter weekend must put Italians into non-Christian driver mode or something. I swear, a dump truck literally blocked the whole intersection for EVERYONE who didn't have a miniature car...

I did luckily make the train, thanks to buying my ticket beforehand and got to wait a few minutes on the platform before the train arrived. Luckily it wasn't a really, really ghetto train like the last one I took back from Ravenna, but it was SUPER packed, so I had to sit with my suitcase between my knees and my way-too-stuffed backpack on my lap.

The FrecciaRossa from Bologna to Milan was kind of awesome. I have to say, if you have the option of taking a FR, disregard the extra cost and just do it. They are the Italian real-life equivalent of movie train rides. Quiet, comfy seats, almost enough room for all your luggage in the overhead compartments and luggage storage in the corridors for those pieces too big for the overheads. And you have an assigned seat, so no worrying about pushing old women and children over to get that last prized seat. Not that I've ever done that...

But in Milan... I had about a 20 minute break. Or what was supposed to be 20 minutes in between trains. That turned into 35 minutes after I got off my personal train heaven. And then after wandering around, sneaking away from creepy men who stare at me (seriously, I think I should have considered the black wig option before coming here. Have Italians seriously never seen a blonde before?!?! And don't they know it's impolite to stare?), eating a Brutto & Buono gelato from Venchi (milk chocolate & hazelnut flavor... damn good, btw), and standing in front of the departures board for about 20 minutes waiting for the track number to finally show up, the delay turned into 25 minutes.

FINALLY, it showed up. And somehow, I wish it hadn't. In long distance trains, 2 rows of seats face each other with a table top in-between. Ours was covered in crumbs, wrappers, not-so-moist-anymore towelettes, and empty water bottles. The cleaning man never came around either to pick it up. My Italian friends in the two seats next to me (this older man and his wife who fed me and talked to me and were really, really nice) talked to the guy who comes around punching tickets and he said very impolitely that there wasn't time to clean the train because it was late and it was the Swiss's fault. Ha! Even my Italian friends didn't buy that! Like the country that basically cornered the market on precise timepieces could run a train like that... Oh, not to mention the bathrooms were a disaster--I think there were only 2-3 open on the whole train and I never personally went inside, but from the looks on people's faces when they peaked... wow. Oh! And my seat was broken so I spent the entire trip in a reclined position and had to push the seat upright to escape from it.

If 25 minutes late wasn't bad, 35 certainly was. And 45 minutes late was even worse. Somehow, a train DRIVEN BY ITALIANS (don't try and blame this one on the Swiss, Mr. Ticket-Puncher!) lost time as it made its way north. In basically sunny/partly cloudy conditions. My goodness.

But after getting off the train in Zurich (finally!! and getting to stretch my back!) I tried to follow the crowd and find someone who spoke English or Italian and could tell me how to get to a Tram 4 stop. Except I saw a sign  (Yay! The Swiss believe in accurate signage!) that indicated Tram 4 was in the opposite direction. And I basically walked to a completely empty underground station to find an ATM (KLB or something in German... that's stranger than BancoMat, gotta say) and a Tram 4 stop--with a local who spoke English to help! And then this rude man and his kid cut right in front of me as I was thanking the women for her help--she had set up the machine for me and everything. But I have 4 minutes until the next tram, so whatever. I'll just wait.

Except this man moves like a snail, and apparently can't work a machine to save his life. And my tram comes and goes and he still is trying to work the damn machine. I was willing to let the cut slide... but when you make me miss things due to your incompetence... lord help you! Rude American Act ON! Let the foot-tapping (which in my Italian boots it pretty loud on stones since they have hard soles) and loud sighing commence! Finally, after I think my second sigh he just gives up. A group of English speaking people arrived about half-way through the whole ordeal, so I turn to them and ask if they know how to work the machine and if they can help me since I had the machine set up for me and then that man cut me off.

There was the really, really nice British guy in the group who told me that I should have told them I spoke English sooner because they were about to say some really mean things about that man. Haha. He deserved it. He asked why I didn't just kick him and yell at him for cutting me off, but I told him I was trying not to be the Rude American. He replied that most of my countrymen do a superb job without me. Then he proceeded to pull out change for the machine, ask me where I was going, buy my ticket and refuse any repayment (okay, I only had a 50 Swiss franc bill, but honestly, I would have given him Euro!) He told me he remembered his first day in Zurich and was happy to help. Seriously, I don't know if British people not in the UK are just really nice or... the Swiss are and their niceness rubs off on foreigners who live here.

The only person I met who isn't super nice here was the guy at the reception desk, but I think that's because my English scares him (do I speak too fast or something?). I got a Kebab (to everyone who doesn't know what that is in Europe, it's basically a gyro, only not quite. But just think gyro, it will make this easier. It's just kind of... Indian-ized) and the people who ran the counter clearly spoke NO English, if limited German, so... yeah. But the guy ordering next to me told them what I wanted.

Seriously. Is Switzerland the country of niceness?

On a separate note, I completely love Zurich. Well... not that separate really. This city is incredibly cool, but I've only seen it really in the dusk-dark. Can't wait to see it in the full daylight tomorrow! I mean, they have super old buildings, a lake, a canal/river, nice people, and trams!! Although this whole trip is supremely improved by the free WiFi in my hotel room and a TV. I have missed TV so much that I am actually excited to watch CNN, CNBC, and BCC News (all 2 channels of it... and some super strange shows...). Sad comment on my depraved Italian life without TV (except of course the shows I watch on my laptop to keep up with American programs).

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