A Well Kept Man

Many of you are aware of the Kombai of Papua New Guinea, many are not. Nevertheless, a few indigenous tribes in largely forested areas of the globe (e.g. the rain forest) such as the Kombai live in the trees to aid in their protection as they are very much primitive by modern societal standards. However, it is thought that very few of these tribes remain today due to the rapid advancement of technology and socialization of these previously isolated tribes. This has led to the virtual annihilation of previously established ways of living across the globe. It would be extremely unlikely to encounter any society like this outside of the remote jungles of the Pacific Rim, and the Rainforests of Central and South America.

Until today...

During a walk I noticed a peculiar site in the trees above Lausanne. At first, my peripheral vision noticed what was instinctively passed off as some type of bird (I am normally ambivalent towards birds as I both enjoy the site of soaring eagles and hawks, but wish to eradicate every pigeon after receiving a "blessing" from one in Venice) but soon proved to be something much more. As I approached, I noticed the density of the flock was much larger than expected, as were the size of the birds...In fact, I quickly established that these were not birds at all, but men! It appears I have discovered a modern, urban tribe of tree dwellers, right here in Lausanne, Switzerland. Surely I will be awarded something by the scientific community for my discovery. I decided to keep my distance for fear of spreading disease or corrupting their primitive way of life, but I was able to snap a few pictures without alerting them to my presence.

I only hope that someday we can study these individuals up close and learn from their peculiar tree grooming habits. They appear to be somewhat advanced in the manufacturing of plastics and the use of ropes and harnesses, truly a marvel. Their survival is obviously dependent on their ability to remain in the trees without falling the tens of feet to their certain doom. As time progresses, it will soon be evident what their purpose here in Lausanne is, as well as how they maintain their lifestyle in spite of the preponderance of societal advancement around them.

As weird as it may seem, the Swiss (and Europeans for that matter) lack an apparent appreciation for fine music.  And by fine I don't mean Bach, Mozart, or Brahms, as it is well documented that they support these individuals with a fervor unmatched except on Public Television in the United States (whose support is only interrupted by the need for your donations to help keep their wonderful programming on the air...hey, that's a good idea.  If you would like to see more of this blog, please consider making A Well Kept Man a part of your yearly giving.  Operators are standing by!).

For the last few weekends, we skied on Saturday and frolicked around Switzerland on Sunday. This proved to be quite successful and fun as we visited many new and exciting places. This weekend we opted for something completely different and utterly chaotic...we frolicked around Switzerland on Saturday and skied on Sunday! I know, we could barely sleep with all the excitement this change of schedule caused. The real reason for this switch was the ludicrous amount of snow pelting the Alps this past weekend. Between Thursday and Saturday night the Alps received anywhere from 20 cm of snow (2.54 cm in every inch...plus, act now and we'll also convert your old miles into kilometers for no extra cost to you! That's a $39.99 value, free!) up to 50 cm of snow in areas traversed only by mountain goats and the Swiss militia.

The weather station warned of severe, unbridled, uncontainable avalanche danger in many areas so we felt it was best to stay away from flowing fields of snow on Saturday, and wait until the danger passed for skiing on Sunday. We were treated to lovely vistas and a bright sunshine on Sunday in the ski area of Villars (this is now our second trip to this resort). Apparently all of Switzerland decided to follow our lead and skied this day as well as the slopes were packed with skiers, snowboarders, and tobogganists. We found some new trails that we did not ski the first time, which induced happiness and joy in our minds...until the trail ended in the middle of town, requiring us to take off our skis and walk the 1/2 mile back to the ski resort while avoiding the townsfolk's icy glares.

We only skied for about 3.5 hours, but that is because we spent another half hour walking through town, as well as to and from our car as we couldn't even park anywhere near the resort due to the massive amounts of skiers. It was a warm day with highs in the upper 30's on the mountain (highs in town were in the mid 40's), not bad for late January (meanwhile I am grinning with the realization that I don't live in Minnesota and thus, I am not freezing cold all the time)! We didn't bring our camera, so the only pictures I have are from my cell phone; thus, I apologize for the quality. Who knows what next weekend will bring as Alli is off to the U.S. for work on Sunday, or Monday (I should probably write these things down). Hopefully, this snow will stick around for a while and we can check out some skiing in France (provided I am still allowed to cross the border).

Our friends Katie and Tom will be more amused by this than anyone else, but I thought I'd share nonetheless. After spending Saturday afternoon in Grindewald, we drove back to Lausanne stopping briefly in Interlaken, a pretty little Swiss town on a lake. The very first thing that caught my eye was Hooters Restaurant (yes, they have great hot wings according to my secret informants in Kalamazoo, MI). Alli refused to let me go in (she claimed she didn't want me to eat the skin on the wings...yea, that's what she's worried about), although she said I could get a bucket of wings to go if they were really that good (the only catch being I couldn't eat any in the car and couldn't reheat them once we were home...wives are sometimes too smart for their own good). Perhaps I will take a day trip up there one of these days for lunch.

Chambermaid here...sorry this post is a few weeks late, but as they say in the business "Le fromage c'est vieux, mais je le linge plié et repassé votre pantalon."

Another weekend, another opportunity to hit the slopes. This past Saturday we drove up to Gstaad (it's pronounced like Tony the Tiger says Great, instead of ending with "rate" end it with "staaaaaaaaad" like you do when the doctor asks you to open you mouth so he can have a look at your uvula), which is a ski-town about one and a half hours from our place. Gstaad is one of the bigger ski resorts we have been to so far, which enabled us to ski for quite a long time. We managed to ski for five hours (we did take a short break for lunch) and saw some beautiful alpine scenery. The nicest feature of Gstaad (at least in our minds) was the way it was designed. Most resorts you have to take multiple lifts to get to the peaks, and then you can only ski partway down. In Gstaad, you get to ride all the way up, and then all the way back down. This meant some killer thigh burning, but it was definitely worth it.

I would also rate most of their easy slopes as medium difficulty (at least compared to U.S. standards). We tried to go down a medium (or red) slope, which proved to be the downfall of Alli (literally). Neither of us are particularly fond of moguls, and yet this red run happened to be littered with them. I went down first and managed to make it past the worst of it unscathed (unless you count my new found ability to do the splits...), Alli on the other hand managed to wipe out pretty seriously. She knocked her ski goggles off, as well as one of her contact lenses when her ski pole crashed into her face as she fell to the ground. Thankfully she was ok as I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to climb all the way back up to where she was due to the incline. A helpful German asked Alli if she needed assistance (in German, of course), and she managed to shoo him away with her years of German training (she actually doesn't really know any German other than yes, no, please and thank you. So I think she basically told him "Nein, danke" or "no thank you"). Bruised but not broken (she also managed to find her contact and put it back in...), we continued on through what became "out of bounds" skiing to get back to the easier sections. You can tell when you are not where you should be when the cows start looking at you funny and you are actually skiing in someones back yard.

Karma would choose to manifest itself when I bit it not once, but twice in areas of the mountain where not even a three year old learning to ski should fall (although in my defense the second time I never stopped rolling and after skidding for fifty feet, I got back up and pretended nothing happened, except Alli witnessed it). We had a wonderful day, and can't wait until our next ski adventure. Hopefully the Alps will get some new snow this week as most of the resorts are starting to get a bit icy and crunchy, which makes for less than enjoyable conditions.

It's Alli guest blogging because my Well Kept Man failed to pick me up at work (he borrowed our car today to buy groceries in France). Needless to say, I had to find my own way to the border to retrieve said car and the Well Kept Man (but not necessarily in that order).  Upon my arrival, I noticed the Well Kept Man was none too happy...

the Fugitive (formally known as A Well Kept Man, but not to be confused with Harrison Ford's blockbuster character) is currently awaiting a pardon from outgoing President George W. Bush either due to the Fugitive's charming good looks or to the sensitive Top Secret information he has about the whereabouts of twelve hamburgers (this will make sense in a minute, I promise).  FYI - We don't have pictures from this adventure as they were confiscated for the Fugitive's trial.  Now the Fugitive can tell you his side of the story as he was released on house arrest.

A Well Kept Man was detained at the Switzerland / France border...details to follow as soon as more information is received.

Alli and I marked our return to Switzerland by enrolling in French lessons at a local school (it's really a business, but since we are learning, I am calling it school.  This would explain why I dread Tuesday and Thursday evenings...I never seem to enjoy school.  I am always worried I won't have my homework done or something.  I guess that's why I have been having so many high school and college flashback dreams lately, or it could be because I discovered Facebook, but who knows?).  Now my French is basic, and by basic I mean I can say fish, chicken, house, and ask for a carafe of water at dinner.  Aside from that, I am fairly inept despite my tall tales of department store flirtation and taking pictures of tourists (actually, if you ask Alli I am quite good...I think I just have a confidence problem when it comes to speaking in foreign tongues; if I only had a little tongue of fire over my head, perhaps that fear would go away....).

Alli and I made our second ski trip last weekend to Villars-Gryon, an area about an hour from our apartment. The weather below 1000 meters was dull and gray, but as soon as we crossed through the clouds (which I never seem to tire of) we were treated to clear skies and an inviting sun. After parking at the base we trekked up to the gondola (about 400 m or so) in our ski gear, boots and all, to buy our day passes. The nice thing about skiing in Switzerland is the prices tend to be fairly reasonable (relatively speaking) because you have so many options of competing mountains. A day of skiing for the two of us is under $100 USD, which you would be hard-pressed to match at a comparable resort in the United States (I'm thinking in the Rockies, Lake Tahoe area, and Utah). Also, our pass allowed us access to the adjoining resort of Les Diablerets, which took about 20 minutes of skiing and chairlifts to reach.

We had a wonderful day of skiing with our highest peak topping at 2120m (6955 ft, or 1.3 miles high). Some of the runs were extremely long, which induced some lovely burning sensations in the thigh and calf areas. No mishaps were reported aside from the one time I looked back to see if Alli had wiped out, causing me to wipe out (very briefly, nobody saw it happen, so it really didn't happen...). We definitely needed the off day that followed as our legs weren't in any shape to walk, let alone ski. We hope to make a few more runs in the mountains before our big ski week in Zermatt towards the middle of March, which if nothing else will give me more opportunity to wipeout and build up some padding in the form of contusions.

One thing that amuses me about skiing here is the contradictory technology usage. On the one hand, our lift tickets are snazzy RFID cards that you just put in a pocket and wave near a sensor to let you on a lift. On the other hand, a majority of the lifts are the old fashioned kind where you hang on to an overhead cable as it pulls you up the mountain (Picture a pick-ax attached to a rope that on the rope end connects to an overhead cable system that pulls you up the mountain, and the pick-ax end goes between and behind your legs to reduce the amount of holding on you have to do...There's also a variant of the pick-ax where it is replaced by the equivalent of salad plate. Would it hurt them to at least make it dinner plate size?). I find this odd as the Swiss have some of the best ski chair technology in the world (as evidenced by ski adventures in Utah, Montana, Colorado, etc.) but they don't seem to use it much in their own backyard. It kind of makes you wonder...

Occasionally I drive over to France after meeting Alli for lunch (occasionally being twice but that's not my point) to pick up cheaper groceries (really just meat as it is affordable here, and affords us the opportunity to supplement our pork-laden diet with beef).  Last week on one such trip, after I had managed to fill my cart with various cuts of bovine, I headed over to the checkout area of the store.  Now this store had roughly thirty checkout lines, so you can imagine it as the size of a Super Walmart (but without the semi-retired greeters and annoying smiley face signs everywhere).  My first clue as to my adventure should have been the fact that I was in France, a somewhat curious country...but I was in a good mood as I knew I would soon be the proud owner of high quality beef at a price much more in-line with expectations.

I love garlic.  It is one of my favorite food-stuffs, especially when caramelized.  Last night I decided that since Alli wouldn't be home for dinner due to a work function, I would make a garlic soup for my meal that I have been wanting to make (also aware that Alli didn't want to eat it so it made perfect sense).  The soup was very mild, but with a pleasant garlic taste (the soup also had egg which acted as a thickener, chicken stock, and a small amount of vinegar).  Long story short, it was an amazing soup and I look forward to making it again.

While on the subject of interesting stories in the airport, I would like to report on a rather serious matter that occurred on our way back to the United States for Christmas.  We invited Lenny (the Lion) with us to the United States as he hasn't yet been there and very much wanted to see the majestic lakes of Minnesota and the unique mitten shaped state of Michigan.  He was quite vociferous that he should tag along as he claimed he had "business" to attend to in the U.S. and we were the only way he could "meet up" with his "client."

As his face is hard to resist we allowed him to come along in our backpack as we weren't about to shell out $1,000 for his ticket, let alone deal with the customs nightmare of importing a lion into the U.S.. (How does one end a sentence when the word itself is an abbreviation?  Do you utilize one period and have it work for both the punctuated word and the end of the sentence, or do you utilize two periods?  I chose the latter, although neither look correct.)  Little did we know that Lenny's plan were much more nefarious than we imagined. 

 

Upon arriving in the U.S., Lenny immediately ran into trouble with the U.S. Border Patrol official.  Apparently we let Lenny out of the bag too early and he was immediately spotted and sequestered for additional questioning.  Upon his interrogation, it was revealed that Lenny was importing fine Swiss chocolate into the United States which in itself is not a problem.  The problem was in the amount he was trafficking, which was in excess of ten kilos of pure cocoa in powder, bar, and nugget form (the Customs officials chose to ignore the Gummy Bears as they were recently legalized for "medicinal" purposes).  He was also carrying a Swiss pocket knife for "protection" which was in violation of international lion law.  As you can see from the photographs, Lenny had quite the cache of Cailler chocolate.

As we didn't wish to see all of this chocolate go to waste (or worse, being detained as evidence in a trial), Alli and I vouched for the possession of the chocolate and claimed it as gifts.  Being U.S. citizens we were allowed to keep the chocolate (which was handed out as gifts for Christmas) but there was nothing we could do for Lenny.  (By the way, if you were a lucky recipient of said chocolate please keep in mind that Lenny's "clients" may come looking for their "delivery" in the next few weeks.  I encourage you to "destroy" the evidence through any means necessary, including but not limited to consumption.  Chocolate facials although intriguing, are not worth the effort and potential face licking by companion animals such as dogs, cats, and inquisitive spouses.)

Lenny wound up spending the two weeks while we were in the States in a federal prison (aka The Zoo) where he apparently recanted his misdeeds and was freed on the condition he return to Switzerland upon our exit from the United States.  Thankfully they also agreed to transfer him from Minneapolis (our point of entry) to Detroit (our point of exit) so we didn't have to backtrack to reclaim him (I figured I'd close any loopholes in my story to avoid showing up on an episode of Mythbusters).  We don't condone the actions of our friend Lenny, although we do condone the delicious morsels of chocolatey goodness he was carrying.

Disclaimer: This story is completely fictitious and in no way represents the actual persona and character of Lenny the Lion.  He is a valued member of society, one who brings hope, cheer, comfort, and laughter to all in his presence.  This story was merely used as an example of creative writing for those out there in grades 6-12 whom need inspiration for that homework assignment that has been slowly approaching its due date.

As if traveling across six time zones wasn't enough, we had a very interesting end to our travel back to Switzerland from the United States.  After spending roughly 17 hours in airports and planes we arrived in Geneva safely.  Alli went off to get the car rental, and I waited for our luggage.  Upon getting the luggage, I proceeded to find Alli where after a few minutes of wading through a very busy airport, located her and we started walking towards the car rental shuttle.  Unfortunately, we were forced to wait as there was a "incident" unfolding in the car rental check-in area.

One of the most exciting events of 2008 was the addition of a new reader to the blog (bringing my total readership to at least two people if you include my dad).  I am proud to again be an uncle as my brother and sister-in-law welcomed their first child on December 6th, Jackson William Seeber (I now have a nephew and a niece, both living in Chicago which will make visiting much easier).  I plan to spoil him once I am back in the U.S. long enough for him to notice, but for now he will have to rely on exciting tales from the internet.

Ok, well perhaps this particular individual isn't really able to read this blog, but surely he will be online before long and then I will have another reader (I think his generation is able to surf the internet before they are able to walk and talk...seriously.  My nine year old sister has more technology in her bedroom then I encountered in four years of electrical engineering...sadly though I know how and why everything works).  I also promised my sister-in-law I would not exploit him on the internet with adorable baby photos and YouTube videos, nor would I create a Facebook profile for him (do they have MySpace for babies?).  She did begrudgingly give me permission to post one photo of him here, but that will be all.  As you can tell from the picture he has red hair, and extremely long fingers (he may also appear to have trouble breathing but that could be because I am incompetent at holding babies).  I'm not sure what this means but hopefully it equates to a 100 mph fastball and taking good care of his favorite uncle (at least on his dad's side).

I miss America already...