Sabbatical in Geneva - Shopping

  OK, I'm a shopper and happily admit it. When others are looking at the Roman ruins or ancient churches, I'm checking out the stuff for sale. Geneva, near the old town area and down the hill from the largest church that overlooks the city, the Cathedral du Saint Pierre, is the main shopping area of the city complete with an Apple store, multiple jewelry stores, and every big name apparel store you can name. About every third store in Geneva is a watch store of some description selling the finest watches in the world, many of which are made here. But those places are expensive and not so different from London or New York. I'm wanting to talk about the more mundane places to shop where the locals go and my experiences there. 

  Every Saturday, our town of Ferney-Voltaire in France has a Saturday morning market that takes over the central village. It goes up the Main Rue which is a cobblestone street lined with outdoor restaurants and up and down the Rue de Voltaire that crosses it. My sister-in-law pointed out that many towns have markets, however, the one in Ferney is a look into the past where people bought their food at the market which is open once or twice a week and rotates from town to town. Ours apparently is exceptional for it's size possibly due to the proximity to Geneva. From the main crossroad and going three or four blocks in two directions, the Ferney market sells food. It's not like the grocery store. The food is often recently picked, caught, or slaughtered, very fresh, and in the open in crates, boxes, and bowls. On display are: fresh (and sometimes live) fish, crabs, oysters, mussels, eel, shrimp, etc. on ice taking up one block; multiple vegetable dealers selling local vegetables and fruits; olive vendors with tables of olives and fresh squeezed olive oil; butchers with their wares either packaged, in coolers, or hanging; sausage makers; cheese makers with stacks of various cheeses; wine makers from the region offering taste of their wines; bread and pastry makers with tables of fresh baked baguettes and croissants; and spice dealers with bowls of fresh spices. When business is slow, the vendors cut open their wares and offer free samples while some openly hawk their foods. Most however are too busy weighing and wrapping foods and taking money. On the other two streets are multiple dealers of all kinds of clothing and other items such as oriental rugs and hand made shoes and toys. It is a true bizarre and it's packed with people buying their clothing or weekly foods. The locals bring roll behind carts that they stuff with food for the week. Even though we have several good grocery stores, the ability to buy fresh in the portion desired and often at a better price is irresistible. It's open from early Saturday morning until about 1:00 pm and often vendors sell out. On Wednesday morning a few of the vendors are back but nothing like the Saturday morning market. Last week, we had a two day Potter's market in addition to the regular Saturday market and the central village was blocked off all weekend. We're hooked and regulars. 

  The regular stores are open from around 9:30 or 10:00 am until noon and then they all close until 2:00 pm for lunch and open again until 6:00 pm generally with very few open beyond 6:30 pm and everything is closed on Sunday. We needed some batteries on a Saturday night after 6:00 and found we were just out of luck until Monday. As American's we keep forgetting about the hours and get out to go the store before 2:00 pm or after 6:00 pm and realize we wasted a trip. It's really hard when you work full time because it's difficult to schedule in shopping or haircuts during the week and as expected on Saturday, things are mobbed. So, we end up shopping less and spending more time between noon and two in restaurants having long lunches or coffee. As an aside, I love the coffee here. It is generally expresso based and either Cafe (a small cup of expresso with a slice of chocolate on the side), Cafe au Lait (an expresso put in a regular cup with streamed milk), or Cappachino (an expresso in a regular cup with frothed milk and often unsweetened chocolate on top). I never see people get more than one cup and you sit and savor the experience and your one cup. There is a Starbucks presence in Geneva and other cities and they do a brisk business and taste the same as home except a good deal more expensive. I'll take the local places. 

  Having a large presence in France is the Carrefour market which I've mentioned before since we have two in Ferney and are much like a WalMart. They actually are the #2 retail store in the world behind WalMart and apparently are all over Europe and Asia. They offer the usual WalMart experience of few people to help you and massive isles filled with mostly groceries but also electronics, school supplies, and clothing. There are differences however. They don't provide bags for your goods and you have to use coins to get a shopping cart. The shopping carts are outside with each cart secured to the next with a chain.  You insert either a Euro or half a Euro into a slot on the cart and it frees it from the chain so you can use the cart. When you are done, you take it back to the other carts and secure the chair which pops out your coin. It's not a bad system for keeping the carts in the right place. Aggravating though if you don't have coins. More aggravating is the lack of bags. They have bags but you have to purchase them and they are sturdy reinforced plastic bags with handles that are expensive. We keep going to the grocery and then realize we forgot our bags and have to purchase new ones. 

  Today - a Saturday, I popped into a giant Carrefour to pick up some milk and a few other things. I picked up a carry around plastic basket and got my items in three times the time it would take me back home because I don't know where anything is located. I got up to the checkout and it was and always is packed with people backed up halfway down aisles waiting to check out. I'm waiting when a fellow starts carrying on with me in French and pointing down the way. I realize he is pointing to a self-checkout area where people with hand baskets can check out so I Merci him and go down. When a spot opens up, I begin taking my stuff from the carry around basket and haul it to the scanner because they won't let you carry your basket in the checkout area. Although there is no one is in the store to help you find things, there always are basket police to be sure you don't violate the basket rule. Once my stuff is situated to check out, I realize that I don't have a bag so I run over to the bags and get the cheapest looking plastic one I see. The instructions on the check out are in French which I don't understand so I begin to push things on the screen and the buzzer goes off and the circulating red light at the top begins to spin. After standing there an eternity, a girl comes over and turns off the buzzer and light and shows me how to scan my items and how to get instructions in English. Nice. The first question is if I have my own bag and I answer yes then realize they mean paid for bag. I can't get the machine to back up and the light starts going off again. Here comes the same girl. She turns off the light and leaves. I begin scanning my items and putting them into my bag. About every forth item freezes the scanner and starts up the red light. She makes about three more trips and I notice the line has gotten long but I'm afraid to make eye contact with anyone in the line since I'm taking so long. I finally get completed, use my saver card, and pay with my credit card which takes another trip and another flashing light episode. I go to leave and my unpaid for bag set off a different alarm and the gates wouldn't open. The same girl glad to be rid of me, opened the gate and I was happy to escape with my few expensive items and stolen plastic bag. A typical shopping experience for me at the Carrefour. I believe I can wait until next Saturday's market to buy anything else.

Sabbatical in Geneva - Roundabouts and Other Curious Forms of Geneva Travel

We in America are probably marked forever in our view of roundabouts by the Chevy Chase movie European Vacation in which Chevy as the quintessential American tourist with his family gets on a large roundabout in England and can’t get off for hours. The actual use of roundabouts however is much more efficient than stop lights\signs and apparently saves a great deal of gas over the stop and go intersections we use in America.  Roundabouts have multiple entrances and the vehicle (car, bus, motorcycle, bike) coming from the left has the right away. With some practice and confidence, a driver can time their entrance and exit to slip between cars with a minimum of braking. It kind of reminds me of figure 8 racetracks I’ve seen in Florida (similar to a demolition derby) where vehicles slip in and out of the intersection without having to stop. The key seems to be to understand the right of way rule and drive with confidence. Of course, I’ve almost hit three cars and just about creamed a biker, but that’s only because I’m new at it. It’s kind of like watching a race when you see the local drivers speed up or slow down to fit within the cars and then get out of the pattern. The big boat rule applies. If a large bus enters the roundabout, then look out because the bus drivers take the offense and the rest better take cover. With that exception, they really do work remarkable well and it’s kind of fun to whip your little car through one and continue unscathed out the other side. (I  hope I don’t eventually have to eat these words). Cars here are almost universally small, although I did see one Tahoe, and it is hard to find an automatic, most are stick shift. This gives us racer types the chance to try out our speed racing skills as the cars are quite powerful or at least feel that way from 2” above the pavement, and nimble. Further, the Swiss and French fancy themselves as NASCAR drivers and want to get wherever they are going first. This makes for an interesting commute. Throw in the motorcycles, bikes, buses, and small roads and you’ve got a convoy. I typically have a driver pasted on my rear bumper because even though I’m over the speed limit, the driver behind me wants to show how much quicker he or she can get there. This is serious business, no room for the squeamish. That is until you purchase gas. For my microspeedster, I filled up on less than an empty tank at  $1.32/liter and it was fifty dollars. Not bringing my big American gas-guzzler truck here.

If you’ve not experienced it, you have at least heard of the efficiency of the bus and rail systems in Europe and certainly in most of the western European countries (Italy may be an exception). The trains and buses are modern, fast, efficient, timely, and expensive. For the bus, some stations have a dispenser so that you enter your destination, put in your coins (exact change) and out pops a ticket good for one or two hours. With that, you can hop on and off the train or bus or train/bus combination, or train/bus/water taxi combination around Lake Leman, as many times as you like during that timespan. If the station or pick up point doesn’t have a ticket machine, machines are available on the bus. They also sell monthly passes between various zones for less money. No one takes up your ticket or checks your ticket or pass and the driver is totally uncaring and inattentive to the passengers. However, occasionally the police board the bus from both ends and check tickets and passes and if you do not have one, then you get an 80 CHF fine – about $80.00. If the machine on the bus is not working which I’ve seen several times, no excuse. In that case you get off ASAP, pick up a ticket at the stop if they have a machine and hop back on, or, take your chances. It’s a pain purchasing on the bus because it is lurching around, you are slow if you don’t read French, people are waiting on you, and you’re typically fumbling for the right change and at my age, I have no idea what the coins are and can’t read them. The pass is much sweeter, you just hop on with it securely in your pocket and enjoy the show at the ticket dispenser.  

It is often said in Switzerland that you can set your watch by the bus or train and it’s true. We were taking a train back to Geneve from Lausanne last weekend and it wasn’t there about two minutes before it was suppose to depart. Then in those two minutes it pulled in, loaded people, and zipped off at the exact minute and second it was scheduled to depart.  These things are not cheap. A one way fare on the bus or train is about four dollars. My monthly pass is $95.00. Our round trip to Luzanne from Geneva, probably 50 miles one way, was 40 dollars. On the other hand, the buses are the big Mercedes folding buses and are fast and clean and the trains are even better because they don’t lurch and the seats are comfortable.

I had driven Chris to school the other day and dropped him off and was returning home through the town of Versoix (Ver as in Very and soix as in swua) on the lake road. I’m in my Toyoda Varis, a car about the size of those little enclosed plastic kiddie cars that kids move with their feet sticking out the bottom, and in a line of traffic. The two main automobile arteries into Geneva from up the lake are the Interstate and the Lake Road and both are crowded at rush hour (between 6:00 am and 8:00 pm). We are bumper to bumper and moving slowing when several motorcycles pass me on the left riding on the road stripe because cars are moving fast at us coming the other direction. I could have patted them on their helmets next to my window – of course I would have had to reach up. About that time several other motorcycles pass me on the right which I’ve come to find out is a perfectly acceptable practice, legal or not. Behind the motorcycles is a Lance Armstrong want-a-bee in full bike attire and he is going very fast as he passes me on the left and then he passed the four motorcycles riding the center line just to their left.  We are not stopped but all moving at different speeds in the same direction. It gets really interesting because we were coming into a large four entrance roundabout with cars coming in from all directions and exiting at different points - fast. The cyclist zipped through and left us all in his dust, now that is roundabout confidence.

Oh, and of course you can walk which everyone does. I’ve walked more this month than I have in the last year. 

Sabbatical in Geneva - Work at the ILO

The International Labor Organization is one of several large branches of the United Nations that is on par with the other branches such as the World Health Organization, UNESCO for education. World Hunger, etc. As they are fond of saying at the ILO however, no one has heard of them. Their purpose is to work with countries, employers, and labor organizations to improve the plight of workers worldwide. Apparently much of the United Nations works toward providing guidelines or standards that often becomes the basis of national laws and the ILO does just that related to labor.

Within the ILO is a branch for disability advocacy and that is where I am attached for my sabbatical. A goal of the ILO is for decent work for all citizens and our unit focuses on that goal for the disabled. For example, the disability section has a project in Cambodia for informal training where a skilled person apprentices a person with a disability to learn the trainer’s trade and the ILO arranges some payment from the Cambodian government for that training service. The disability unit has two full time senior disability specialists, some secretarial help, and a budget of only $65,000/year. They therefore have to ironically rely on free or cheap labor. They do hire interns who tend to work for them for 3 months to a year and receive a stipend of 1,500 CHF (about the same as dollars) a month. They are the only part of the U.N. who has paid internships because they are a labor organization and currently have two, Jayhe, a young South Korean women who will return to California at the conclusion of her work here to complete her Ph.D. dissertation, I think in policy development, and, Abdul who is from Sierra Leone but has lived in Denmark, England, San Francisco, and worked on his law degree at Moorehouse College in Atlanta – he is a lawyer. He apparently is the only intern they’ve had with a disability, as Abdul is blind. The disability unit has a goal of having a quota of all interns within the U.N. with a disability.

 Because of the shortage in resources, the unit I’m with spends a great deal of time in disability advocacy with the other branches of the ILO and broader U.N. For example, this past week, we met with the head of the International Crisis Management team of the U.N. who was making his forth trip to Haiti. Our role was to encourage him to find out what is being done for disabled Haitians since the earthquake so that we might mobilize some assistance for them. In the meeting, the contact Antonio was requesting we either put together a proposal for some of the assistance funds that has been pledged and/or try to get someone with construction and disability knowledge on site to see what can be done. The only catch is the person has to be fluent in French since that is the national language. The group knew of one man who is working on another project and we brainstormed other individuals that might could work there. I was volunteered but thought my only knowing 12 French words might be a barrier. I do think Debra Perry, my contact and a senior disability specialist, might be spending some time there in the near future.

The major project from this unit currently is the formation of a business and disability network composed of multinational companies, labor, and disability advocacy groups. There are 27 companies signed on at present and a number of advocacy and labor organizations. We are planning three inaugural planning meetings to determine what this Network will become; one this fall in Europe I think Paris, one in November in New York City, and one later in Asia, possibly Bangkok. Debra will attend all three and I expect I will make it to the European meeting. These will be one-day affairs with probably only a dozen or so people in attendance. I spent my first week assisting in the design and sending of a survey relating to the purpose of this organization and what should transpire at the initial meetings. Those were sent out via Survey Monkey last Friday and we’ll do the analysis next week.

On a personal note, I am here as a guest of the ILO and they have given me a great office with opening windows that overlooks a horse farm and the ILO reflecting pool on the 8^th floor– great view. The building itself is a massive concrete structure full of windows all around with a center work area between offices for common work. In other words, everyone has a window office. The picture I’m including shows the ILO building and the corner of the World Health Organization building. The United Nations plaza and building are in the next block. The weather has been perfect for open windows with a cool breeze all day through the office. They have obtained for me a security badge so I can get through the turnstiles at security and a Card de Legitimate that gives me privileges to stay in the country longer than the 90 days a passport provides. I have my own computer and a guest login id that allows me to receive email and phone calls, if I understood how to use the phone. The computer uses a French keyboard that has some letters transposed from what I’m used to and makes typing interesting. I’m apparently going to get several survey chances with Survey Monkey and it appears I’m definitely going to Oman for a week in October. Apparently they want some technical help in setting up a countrywide rehab program or vocational evaluation program. They originally wanted me for 16 days but Debra headed that off as too long since she has projects in mind. She has given me a great deal of material to review and we are going to design a disability awareness program that can be taken on-line, on a CD, or have it stored in notebooks since different countries have different requirements. The head of their on-line training lives in Turin, Italy and we’ll be going to visit him (about a 4 hour drive) to see his operation and get his help in producing our project. The people in the office are great, friendly and from all over the world. They have made me feel welcome and we’ve had three “tea parties” to send off completing interns, welcome folks such as me, and in one case following a German tradition, Michael held a Friday afternoon social in which he hosted us all with wine, beer, and cakes to celebrate his starting at the ILO. He was very sweet in making a speech and going around the room to say something nice to and about everyone there – a wonderful tradition. More later. 

Sabbatical in Geneva - Biking in France and Switzerland

A bicycle (un velo) in France and Switzerland is a regular site everywhere as they are used for racing, exercise, and transportation. It amazes me that with the small streets and roads here, there is room for cars (small ones), many motorcycles, bikes, and giant buses. They all seem to get along and the cyclists are treated as just another vehicle. The city is full of bikes as are the small towns and the countryside. What surprises me more than any of it are the number of Swiss and French who bike to work riding at breakneck speed in their colorful lycra carrying their work clothes in a small backpack. At about 7:30 am, the road in front of our house has multiple bikers zooming toward Geneva. On the weekend, obvious racer types zoom by going the other way and last Saturday, a group of beyond middle age portly Americans came puffing up our hill on what appeared to be a bike tour. The Swiss and French are crazy about their biking. The men tend to ride racing bikes or sometimes working bikes with large platforms or trailers while the women mostly ride a city bike in an upright position wearing street clothes. Judy will appreciate that electric bikes are the rage and they are seen all the time – again bikes are used for transportation.

I haven’t attempted riding to work yet because of the traffic going into Geneva but I heard one of my fellow workers, Henrick, does ride from my area and I’m thinking of getting him to show me the shortcuts. I have been riding in the country and what a pleasure it is. The roads are lined with fields of wine grapes on one side and fields of apples on the other. Just across the Swiss border from our place are the small towns of Collex and Bossy each containing bike trails or paved singletrack cutting through the fields, mountains, and towns. On those, people walk or bike and they are used for agricultural machinery but generally not for cars. I’m uploading some pictures going through Collex on the 50 km bike road that winds through the country. I’ve yet to make it to the end to see where it goes but it’s a pleasure to ride due to the lack of automobiles and scenery. Rolling through the centuries old villages inspires the illusion of being in the Tour de France at least as much as it can riding my slow pace.

I looked at bike carriers so that I could bring the regular sized bike however taking a measurement summing the width, length, and height of those put me over 87” which is the maximum allowed by U.S. Airlines. Some of the other airlines allow this size and more and probably would have influenced the fight I booked had I known. I then checked with UPS to see about shipping the bike and they would for $600. I was advised by Kirk to just purchase one here and I haven’t given up on that idea but I haven’t yet been in a bike shop. Fortunately, I have a Bike Friday that folds into a suitcase and even though it has small wheels it rides fine and didn’t cost me extra to bring.

The attached pictures show some of the route of the bike road and will give you a feel for what the countryside here looks like. Enjoy!

Sabbatical in Geneva - The French Maiden and the Pickpocket

The French Maiden and the Pickpocket

I am working in the dining room midmorning on my email when the doorbell rings, quite loud as it is a hand crank actual bell. I’ve never even heard it nor knew we had one so it startles me to be home alone and have the bell clang. At the door is a French maiden probably in her late 30’s, attractive, with long dark hair wearing jeans and a long sleeve flannel shirt. As I open the door she launches into a speech in French of which I understand nothing. The best I could tell she was asking me for money for something, possible a utility bill? She was friendly and innocent enough looking however I decided that without a vehicle – she walked up – and without any official looking clothes, I wasn’t going to give her any money.

As part of our back and forth trying to understand each other she asked for a stilo that I know well from Rosseta Stone is a pen. I invite her in and provide pen and paper eager now to know what she wants as she is focused on this house and very definitely has something in mind. I thought she was planning on inking a picture but instead she scratches out a few French words on the paper and makes an odd symbol and writes 400 and 600. The symbol I’ve come to learn means Euro and it makes sense to me that she is asking for 400 to 600 Euro that she communicates is for the month. I incorrectly assume she is asking me to pay the water bill. At this point, I almost fainted if that is the cost of water here so I, in my best French accented English, explain this to her.  It is too much, it is robbery, how can it be this high I gesture; she looks puzzled.  Finally, she says Voilla, a term accompanied by a throwing up the hands gesture the French use with every discovery, at least to non-French speaking Americans. She pulls out her phone and begins to madly dial away talking to several people looking for a translator. Eventually she finds an elderly sounding English accented lady who explains that Nichole wants to rent a room from me and understands we have a room to let. I consider it. I look at her and consider it some more. After a seemingly long time while I’m considering the possibilities and problems, I tell her “Non” (French for No) I don’t have a room (in English with my French movie accent). After we “Non” back and forth a few times she smiles, says Merci (another mysterious term the French use all the time) and walks off. Later I tell Chris the story and he indicates he would gladly give up his room to her until I tell him about her age and then he’s not so sure.

Nancy arrived in Geneva on the 5^th of September and after picking her up at the airport, she wants to go looking around the city. Happy to oblige, I whip out my new European GX10,000 Garmin and punch in a previous address where I had taken Chris to the movie theater earlier that day and off we go. There are of course many roads and more long lasting stoplights in Geneva than anywhere else in the world and I’m certain that somewhere between the airport and movie she will spot interesting things. I’m driving confidently because I have HOME plugged into my Garmin and will never get lost again or so the instructions said. After getting to the movie theater, she still had not seen enough so I drive around the main roads; it is a beautiful warm Sunday and the roads are not heavily traveled as we venture through the city and come across the lake. Lake Geneva is 45 miles long and quite a few miles wide going northeast to southwest with it’s Southwest formation at a basin surrounded by Geneva. The lake is mountain stream clear filled with sailboats on this perfect 10-knot breeze sailing day. The local city folk spend time walking along the boardwalk around the lake and sunning. Actually around this part of the lake is a wide concrete pier at the water with an extended park behind the pier so it’s perfect for strolling, sitting, eating, sunning.

After a long walk gawking at the locals who are gawking at us and feeling we are truly having a European moment, we stop for a Gelato and resume our walk. Out of a group of young men on our right, a thin young man jumps next to me humming a French ditty and is trying to dance with me or trip me, I can’t tell. He is hopping on his right foot and has his left leg over my legs while hanging onto me, but he is smiling and seemingly enjoying himself. I’m uncomfortable to have this guy hanging on me and I’m about to trip when Nancy, walking behind us, shoves his hand into my butt. Apparently, he had my wallet halfway out of my pocket when she instinctively shoved it back. He skipped off to his friends laughing and still singing his ditty. It took me a few minutes to realize what had just happened and even longer to appreciate how lucky we were.

My wallet contained about $1,000 in Francs and Euro’s but more importantly all of my credit and debit cards. In talking about it, we both realized what a mark we were; not paying that much attention to our surroundings, looking like tourist, and, having a large bulging wallet in my rear pocket. There were no police to be seen in the crowds walking around the lake that day and without speaking the language, I’m not even sure how we would have found the police to make a report.  I’ve fretted about it all night – what could have been – and have been writing down credit card numbers and phone numbers and am splitting up my cards and money to put in separate places. We are going to the airport luggage store to buy something more secure to carry those in.

I know you thought from the title these stories would be related which they are not. It just made for a better title. As an addendum on the pick pocket, my contact here Debra Perry, had her wallet stolen at the grocery store. She complained that as much as the Swiss brag about having no crime, they have almost no murders; there is frequent pick pocketing.  I’ve learned a valuable lesson. 

Sabbatical in Geneva - 1684 Rue de Geneve Ornex, France

1684 Rue de Geneve  Ornex, France

Locating a place to stay in the Geneva area is tough. Geneva has not had major housing construction for years and a number of multinational corporations have chosen to call Geneva home while others have a significant presence here. This may be due to the central Europe location or possibly favorable corporate laws.  Add in the United Nations, World Health, International Labour Organization, and the other world focused groups and the housing shortage is easier to understand. The Swiss laws apparently are favorable to tenants to the point that it’s difficult to eject a tenant even if they quit paying rent.  In Geneva, foreigners outnumber the Swiss and due to all of the above, residents are reluctant to let go of their apartments – nearly all of the residents of Geneva rent apartments – thus the housing shortage. In locating a place, we started with our network by asking friends, friends or friends, facebook friends, professional contacts, etc. what they knew about Geneva and housing here. We also began searching websites. What we found was that when something comes available, if you do not jump on it immediately and commit, it disappears. Not knowing the area or understanding the language made it more difficult.

As an aside, it is September 3, 2010 while I’m writing this about 10:00 am and a perfect day; cool temperature, clear sky with low humidity, mountains in the background, and warming up. Much different from what we left in Auburn a week ago, i.e. 98 degrees with 90% humidity.

We had decided to have a city experience and focused our efforts on finding a two or three bedroom apartment in Geneva. Our son Chris was accepted in the International School of Geneva and this seemed a good plan at first. A friend of a friend sent us an ad for an apartment, which seemed too good to be true. As a rule, apartments in Geneva are small around 800 square feet or less and expensive, $3,500 or more a month plus utilities.  Many are in big cube like unattractive structures containing multiple units. This ad was for a modern three bedroom fully furnished and equipped place in an old district with an apartment that was quant and charming from the pictures. We contacted the renter and received a series of emails in pidgin English that reminded me of the emails I frequently get from Libya offering me a million dollars just to hold some money for the Ambassador. The renter promised the world and indicated he would fly over to meet me at the apartment to let me in as he lived in England. He did send a contract “drawn up by his attorneys” that looked like something I would do and requested we wire $1,500 to hold the apartment to an address in England. He may well have been legitimate but apparently apartment scams are frequent and it scared me off. We then ended up with two places we found, a concrete cube apartment building in Versoix Switzerland right down the street from where Chris’s ended up going to school and an old redone French Farmhouse just out of Ferney-Voltaire France with an address in Ornex France across the border from Geneva. We took the farmhouse because it had more charm basically. Interestingly, you can go on Google maps and get a street level view of places and actually a pretty good feel for an area from your computer. At this point Chris and I have had a week to settle in our new house and town. The house is a three bedroom, three floor – four floors if you count the basement - house with a small yard backing up to agricultural fields. Unfortunately, it sits right on the main road from the west into Ferney-Voltaire and on into Geneva and it’s constantly noisy from the traffic, both large trucks and motorcycles. Our first few nights here it was warm and we had windows and shutters open since there is no A/C. It sounded like we were in a freeway. More recently, it has cooled down so we close the shutters and windows and it’s much better. Chris has an attic room on the third floor, our room and the other bedroom (really an anteroom to ours) and a large bathroom is on the second, and the first floor has a living room, dining room, and kitchen. The house has minimal furniture, bare wood floors and nothing on the walls resembling to me a youth hostel. Debra from here has loaned us a few pieces of furniture and some pictures which has helped it out – a rug would do wonders.

The bus swings through town and either heads by our house, but doesn’t stop, on the way to Gex (pronounced Jex) France or swings around in the center of town at the Ferney Mairie and heads back to the Geneva Cortavin or central bus/train station. My routine is to get Chris up and going around 6:30 am and drive him to school in Switzerland by 8:00 am (about a 20” drive), get back home to get myself together, walk to the bus stop (about 20”) and take the bus to work (about a half hour). People at work are casual about getting there but seem to stay late, as much as 7:00 pm regularly, probably due to it being daylight here until 8:30 pm. In the afternoon Chris rides the train from Versoix to Geneva and then catches a bus to Ferney. He can ride both for a 3 Euro ticket. The bus/train drivers do not take up tickets and occasionally the trains or buses are boarded by police who enter from either end checking tickets. If you don’t have one there is an 80 Franc fine – about $80.00. The bus and trains are often used since they are clean, modern, and efficient arriving and departing exactly on time. Plenty of people bike to work and seem to reach incredible speeds commuting. The male bikers tend to be decked out in full cycle regalia while the women ride in a more upright position wearing their street clothes; more on biking in another post. The roads are also clogged with motorcycles who pass cars on the right and left and work themselves to the front of any traffic line. It’ a little like driving on a racetrack. I’m amazed that with narrow roads, accommodations are made for numerous small cars, large buses, motorcycles, and bikes. It is a bike culture where cycling is seen a mode of transportation.

Our house has a modern though small kitchen with small modern appliances. They look completely different than American brands and it’s been a challenge to figure them out. The instructions are here but in French. Fortunately the toilet is straightforward and we have both a claw foot tub and a modern glass shower. Similar to the other appliances, the clothes washier is tiny holding only a small load with a real old fashion clothes line outside – that should be fun when it gets cold. We do have Internet with WiFi, Internet phone, and Cable TV all compliments of Orange, which is kind of like Charter or AT&T. It took several days to get the WiFi going and I about went nuts feeling cut off from home. The Internet phone however is tops and gets us free calls to the USA.

In finding a place, we found Internet web sites that were extremely helpful including: AngloInfo.com which has general information about different European cities and living in Europe with a classified section and specific information about the city you enter; Sublet.com that lists apartments/houses for rent both furnished and unfurnished for short and long rent; World Swiss Radio Classified with oodles of information on items for sale and rent; homegate.ch similar to sublet.com; Vanilla Homes.com with short term rentals; VBRO.com with vacation rentals in most countries; and ExPat.com with general information for Americans living abroad. We found intriguing sites at homeexchange.com and sabbatical.com where you can swap houses if you can make the dates work – we weren’t able to. There also are realty agencies that a friend’s friend steered us to and they were helpful in sending information. One of the best contacts we received about an apartment for rent was from a post put out on the United Nations Intranet that landed up a great sounding apartment offer that was unfortunately received after we had committed to the current place. That’s it for the moment, more to come. While here, please feel free to contact us at:

1684 Rue de Geneve

01210 Ornex    France

Phone: 00 33 450 404 385

Sabbatical in Geneva - Recently Arrived

8/27/10. Three a.m. here in France, 8:00 p.m. in Auburn and I’m lying in bed staring at the ceiling listening to the cars pass every so often. Our son Chris is sleeping upstairs like there is no tomorrow and Nancy hasn’t joined us yet. This house is right on a main road with traffic noise night and day. The weather on arrival was perfect, i.e. low humidity and low to mid 70’s with a clear day allowing the view of Mount Blanc, which apparently isn’t always visible. Leaving the 98 degrees and 98 percent humidity to land in a cooler climate was a blessing although it still can be warm during the day and without air conditioning, it gets stuffy in the house. We opted for a cheap flight and changed planes twice adding hours from the layovers.

Getting into Switzerland is remarkably easy as the airport guard just stamped our passports and sent us on our way to the luggage that was waiting at baggage claim where we walked out into a fresh Swiss day. We rented a house across the border on the road between Ferney-Voltaire and Ornex, France, only a short walk from Ferney-Voltaire, a town that boasts the Château Voltaire, the home/museum of it’s most famous citizen. For 2000 Euro’s, we rented an old renovated French farmhouse claiming only 1,300 square feet but boasting three floors and a basement including three bedrooms. It is a narrow but high stuccoed stone house sporting real shutters and modern double pane windows. The shutters serve as curtains since there are none, or screens for that matter, but so far the bug population seems slight.  I was told that these old French farmhouses used to have a barn built on the back thus their narrowness and the farm animals were brought into the basement in the winter. We have stalls in the basement so I believe it.

The house has radiator heat, no A/C, and reasonably new appliances that we can’t figure out – the toilet is a pleasant exception. For example, the microwave emits hot air and microwaves and we just punch around on it until it makes a noise. Typical of European homes, they hide the refrigerator and kitchen appliances into the cabinets so you can’t find them. The house has a youth hostel feel due to the sparse furnishings of which some is grand but most dilapidated. We have a real back yard with grass and it’s own clothesline and some trees. Unfortunately, the house is directly on the busy highway so we stay shuttered up trying to lessen the traffic noise; a problem that may run us out as we are feeling hostage to the noise. On our second day, we had a visit from the Mayor whom Chris talked with. He was apparently explaining what we have to do to keep our place tidy and the sidewalk unobstructed. Still, he was the mayor and did visit us, Bill Ham take a lesson.

After walking to the Carrefore supermarket – kind of a small WalMart – and toting groceries home, the idea of being carless seemed more romantic than practical resulting in a $17.00/day Toyota two door Yaris; a car that makes my Mini Cooper  big and luxurious. It’s wheels however. Switzerland did not join the EU so they retain their Swiss Francs (CHF) while France uses Euro’s meaning we still have to carry two currencies. Visa trumps them both however. There has been progress since last I was here between EU countries in crossing borders where we are finding unmanned border stations that you just drive on through. Everything is close together and it takes little time going from village to village.

We visited our U.N. contact, Debra Perry, at her apartment which is a number of villages up the lake from Geneva but only a half hour bus or train ride according to her. She took pity on us and gave us things for our house as well as taking us to dinner.  We dined at a small restaurant on Lake Geneva and we feasted on Lake Perch, a local favorite, floating in butter – hmmmmmmm. Debra lives in Celigny in a 300 year-old stone apartment that previously was the town hotel. She has a beautiful place furnished with artifacts and carvings from Thailand where she has lived for the past 8 years. Her apartment overlooks the cobblestone town square and is the picture of what you think of Switzerland. Most Swiss in this part of the country however live in large cube shaped beehive apartment buildings. Her only complaint is that when you sleep with the windows open and hear the musical phrases of French being spoken outside, it is romantic initially but becomes annoying when you want to sleep.

My French is terrible, I should have worked harder on Rosseta Stone. Chris chides me that I can’t get by on Bonjour and Merci the entire time and has taken a parental role in getting me to buckle down and study. I’ve bantered that his learning French this term is the reason I brought him so he can be my personal translator. Fortunately, many of the locals speak English and certainly any English they speak is better than my French. It is surprising how much I can figure out in print due to similarities to English, but spoken French is an entirely different matter.  It does make it hard in trying to do everyday things such as getting the computer network working. I suspect we’ll improve since our TV and surrounds are all in French. One of the differences I’ve noted is that many things close for two hours at lunch and it is the rare store that stays open past 6:00 or 6:30. Debra tells me that many are also closed on Saturday and nothing is open on Sunday making it difficult to find time to get errands completed.

Chris started his orientation at the College du Lemon in Versoix (ver – souwh), an international school with over 20 campuses worldwide where he will be in grade 11. Orientation was the usual crammed into a hot high school gym affair that occurs anywhere but the mix of kids was impressive and he was excited to see the “hot” French girls that will be part of his school world. As might be expected in an English speaking school in Europe, there were many Brits with a good sprinkling of French, Asians, Africans, etc. His schooling may prove to be one of the more important outcomes of the trip. For the costs, it should be.

Debra took us by the ILO (International Labour Organization) office where I’ll be working starting 1 September (don’t you like how I’m now affected, I’ll be crossing my 7’s next). It is a huge flat building full of windows and offices – you can see it on Google maps. My role will be her GTA in the disability specialist office where I anticipate we’ll be doing some disability statistics collection as well as designing a training orientation course on disability for their staff, bringing them coffee, cleaning up, etc. They really do plan on sending me to Oman to help them with establishing a vocational evaluation procedure for those with disabilities. She referred to me to the staff at ILO as her former professor so I have apparently become known as The Professor as in “When The Professor gets here ……. I’ll certainly have to dress and act the part.

It’s time to try sleep again or I’ll never adapt. Maybe just a bit more baguette, butter, and wine ………