Alphorns

One of the ways the cows/goat farmers would communicate with other farmers or their homes was by yodeling or with an Alphorn.  The sound carries quite far, but isn’t obnoxiously loud.  We got to hear both yodeling and Alphorns, but only saw the yodelers from a distance among all the market stalls (bottom right).

The Cows, Their Bells, and Traditional Swiss Dress

One of the things that surprised me when I first lived here was that the cows really do wear bells all the time.  It’s not just for show or for the tourists.  You can hear them clanging anytime you walk by, often even when they are a good way up the mountains. The normal bells are much smaller and a lot less fancy than the bells below, however.  The ones below are “show” bells only for special occasions.   The really big bells you see in some of the pictures easily run CHF 800 – 1000 (USD 1000 – 1200).  Many have been passed down for generations.

All of these cows are owned and led through the town by a family from the surrounding area, usually displaying a sign at the beginning of the next set of cows.  Check out the mountain boots on these girls!  Now these are mountain people!  While you can’t see it in most of the pictures, they pretty much all were wearing very sturdy shoes.

Even the goats and tractors get their moment in glory.

I’m not sure why this guy was carrying these bells (and ringing them), but they were pretty fancy-schmancy.  Dangling earrings were the thing for many of the men-folk.

To Market

Swiss cows are primarily raised for their dairy (as opposed to beef).  So how do the farmers sell all that lovely cheese and butter they make?  Most towns have a market square and a community farmers market.  They don’t bring the cheese and butter to the square this way any longer, but it was interesting seeing how it probably used to be done – on the back.  The round slabs are cheese; the squares are butter (pretty sure it was all local, fresh cheese and butter).

And where were we during all the hullabaloo?  After hearing a lot but hardly seeing anything, the sun got hot and people left our little spot.  So, we managed to sit on the ground at the very front with all the kiddos on my lap.  I guess when you’re only two feet high, crowds and lots of loud bells are a little frightening.  Oh, and we had one photo request.  As we’ve learned in the past, we are also a tourist attraction.  I’m pretty sure this picture looks identical to the one the lady took, since it was right before my friend took ours.

Annika:  What do cows say when they get up?

Me:  I don’t know.  What?

Annika:  Good moo-ning!

If you’re wondering – it is HEAVY with all three kids.  I figure between the weight of the stroller and all the kids, it is at least 145 lbs. to push around.  Not so bad when you’re on flat ground.  But this is Switzerland.  And we are “mountain people” here in these parts (as someone in my German class called us country folk).  When you need to turn, think of a bus or a semi.  You need some maneuver room.  But I wouldn’t trade it!  It means freedom from being at home every.single.day.

We walk to school, the library, the grocery store, the parks, the doctor, the train.  It’s only about a 10-15 minute walk to any of these places.

We also have a double stroller I’ve started taking more now that Annika is older and can walk a bit faster (wahoo!).  It is a lot easier to push just the twins around.

Annika’s Skirt (McCalls M6066)

Twin Dresses (Simplicity 2677 – I made the shirt version a while ago here)

Thank you to all of you who have given your confidence in my new calling as seminary teacher.  I have really appreciated reading your words of encouragement.  Things on the seminary front have been going much better (hallelujah!), but it has been a rough road.  Think of it as my own smaller scale version of Moses 1.  But now things are starting to go in the right direction.  I feel strengthened.  I feel like it is not the overwhelming, impossible task I did earlier.

Can I just tell you that I LOVE studying the scriptures.  It has been (sadly) a long time since I’ve dug deep and really studied.  Oh, I read – don’t get me wrong – but that’s not the same thing.  I feel like I’ve found my long lost friend – something I’ve been searching for but didn’t really know I was missing.  You know when things start clicking together, pieces to the eternal puzzle fit a little better, and it just feels like pure knowledge?  It is hard to describe, but I feel spiritually invigorated, alive!  Seriously.  If it has been a long time (like me) that you have felt that way about scripture study, just thoroughly study, little by little (not just read), Moses 1 or 2 Nephi 2.

I can teach in English.  We have six students, four German/English-speaking Americans and two German/English-speaking Swiss. They are all awesome kids.  I teach one night a week after youth group and one morning a week via Skype.  Early morning.  6:30 to be exact.  We have students from two different cantons (like states) in our class, which means trying to coordinate two completely different school schedules (ya, I think I’ve spent no less than eight hours alone on getting this schedule right).  If I can keep up with preparing lessons, we’ll add one more Skype morning to our schedule.  Our first class was on my birthday last week.  The students sang happy birthday to me – twice!  I really enjoyed it!

Did I mention I live in Switzerland?  And I have three kids ages four and under?  Did I mention that in Switzerland a “big” family is two kids?  Did I mention we’re studying the Old Testament?  Did I also mention I’m taking German lessons – trying to improve my pathetic Deutsch?  I’ll be honest.  This calling has totally thrown me.  I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water as it is.

Some days, I am so excited.  Giddy even.  I love the Old Testament!  It has already been awesome to have a very compelling reason to dive into the scriptures rather than surface reading.  I’m pretty sure that is one of the reasons I have this calling is to help me stop coasting and start engaging.  I have already felt taught by the Holy Ghost on several occasions.  I’ve missed feeling so enlightened.  I absolutely love this feeling!

I would be lying if I said there weren’t days I’m the opposite of excited.  The Sunday after I was called, Jonathan was translating sacrament meeting (English-speakers wear headphones if they want translation).  I wrangled all three kids through the whole meeting and nearly made it.  As the meeting progressed, I started having my own pity party because the kids were starting to get difficult.  Of all the people, why did they pick the foreigner with two-year-old twins and a four-year-old?  Wasn’t there somebody, anybody, who had a little less going on than I did that could do this?  How in the world was I supposed to keep up?  I couldn’t even get through sacrament meeting.  When was I supposed to prepare not one, but two lessons a week?  Every week?  AND keep up on my reading of the Old Testament?  I started thinking about how few other callings there are that require teaching every week, let alone more than once a week.  The kids were about to start shrieking and I was about to start sobbing.  So we went in the foyer.  A few days after that, I cried myself to sleep.

I feel like Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities in regard to this new calling:

It was the best of times,
it was the worst of times,
it was the age of wisdom,
it was the age of foolishness,
it was the epoch of belief,
it was the epoch of incredulity,
it was the season of Light,
it was the season of Darkness,
it was the spring of hope,
it was the winter of despair,
we had everything before us,
we had nothing before us,
we were all going direct to Heaven,
we were all going direct the other way.

To be honest, living here has been hard on so many levels.  On the church side of things, it hasn’t helped that I don’t understand most of what is said (it’s all in German) and for the first seven months of living here I spent most of my Sundays in the nursery because Annika was having a hard time in class.  Then the twins turned 18 months (hallelujah!) and we literally doubled the nursery with three in at the same time.  But they weren’t too excited for a good many weeks about being there.  Then Annika moved up to primary and again had a hard time.  And then the nursery teachers stopped showing up.  We moved here a year ago last August, and it wasn’t till the following March that I attended my first Relief Society meeting.  I knew no one.  I didn’t understand anything (no translation).  I kind of wanted to go back to nursery.  At least there I could talk to my kids and they sort of understood me.  They actually cared I was there.  It has been a lonely time for me.  Can you hear the pity party?  It took me till March to get up the courage to talk to the only Swiss mom with young kids who sort of lives near me.  In German.  And see if she wanted our kids to play together.  Jonathan came around the corner at church just at that moment and could translate because neither of us could understand what the other was saying.  But she was up for it and has been so patient and kind letting our kids play together.  She is very patient with my German and knows enough English we can get by if I don’t know how to say something (though it’s usually in German).  I’ve so appreciated her friendliness.

It has only been these last two months of living here that I have begun to feel somewhat acclimated here in general and in the ward in particular.  I feel like I’m starting to sort-of make a couple of friends.  Granted, they almost all live in Zug, which is half-an-hour away.  But, it is improving.  I don’t dread going grocery shopping anymore.  I don’t worry about meeting other moms at the park and trying to start a conversation in German (my original plan for making friends here, which didn’t pan out).  I can speak enough to get by now.  I’ve learned showing you are genuinely trying to speak German (and learn their language) goes a long way with the Swiss.   Contrary to common belief, the answer to the English question is not always a yes, especially when you live out in the country like we do.  My conversations (such as going to a doctor or government place) usually start out saying “Ich spreche ein bisschen Deutsch” and then asking if they speak a little English.   Then I tell them I will try in German.  If I don’t know a word, I just use the English word and hope they know it.  Usually we can get by.  Do you know how long it took me to get an appointment with a pediatrician for the kids’ yearly checkup?  A year!  Jonathan finally just made it himself.  Why so long?  Because talking on the phone in German is so intimidating!  You don’t have facial expressions or hand gestures to help.  I’m embarrassed I was chicken for so long.

Fortunately, I have amazing visiting teachers who I know care about me (granted our visits are usually in German, but it’s good for me and my German is a little better now, so I can get by).  I’ve had a testimony of visiting teaching for years and years, but it has only been since having the twins and again with moving overseas that I now know I NEED visiting teachers.  My visiting teachers back home were a god-send.  And so are the ones here.  I thank Heavenly Father often for these women, their love, their service, and just plain coming to see me so regularly.  They haven’t let language stand in the way, even though I’m sure it’s not been a picnic for them visiting a foreigner they can’t really talk to.  Even though I don’t always know what they are saying with their voices, by their actions and compassion, I still know they sincerely care for me.  This is sad to admit now, but last winter, sometimes they were the only people I would see, other than my husband and kids, for many weeks.  In an eight-week period, my kids, Jonathan, or I were sick for six of the them.  It was often much easier to just not go out with three sick little kids by myself in the winter in a new country where I barely spoke the language.   One Sunday after being sick for a long time, we stepped outside of our apartment to go to church.  I realized that I hadn’t been out that door in over three weeks.  So when I say I never saw people for weeks at a time, I am not exaggerating.

These last three years with a very sick, sick pregnancy, then two crying babies and one crying toddler for an entire year while suffering from post-partum depression and trying to take a German class, and now living overseas have been so challenging, hard, stretching, humbling, crushing – often more than I could handle.  Am I painting a bleak picture?  It hasn’t always been so bleak, but it has been very hard.  I’ve seen so many small miracles and tender mercies that I know are not by chance happen over the last few years.  I know this is where we’re supposed to be.  But I feel like a two-year-old sometimes –  ”No!  I don’t want to do that!” and cry and have my own little tantrum.  I cannot deny all the help we’ve had both from people and from above.  I am thankful for my Savior’s patience with me.  And my husband’s.  He is such a good, good man.  Such quiet strength.  He is disciplined and diligent and loving.  He quietly serves our family.  He is a tender father and so much fun, too.  Again, so patient.  I love his sense of humor, his witty and funny and sometimes a little bit corny jokes.  I think they are all so funny!  I love it when my nerdiness comes shining through without me realizing it, and he puts his arms around me and says “I love you!”.  He is my greatest blessing.

Check out this short video.  I’m amazed what this kid has accomplished.

With over 35,000 members world-wide to date, McKay Hatch began the No Cussing Club in middle school after many of his childhood friends began regularly using profanity at school.   After asking them to stop using foul language in the sixth grade, a couple of his friends came to him two years later and said his request helped them stop cussing for good.    This gave McKay the idea to start a No Cussing Club in his school – eventually leading to the creation of free website, no-cussing curriculum, hundreds of media appearances including interviews with NPR, Jay Leno, FoxNews, and CNN, and now a book.

The journey has not been easy with police and even the FBI involved due to thousands of bomb and death threats.  Who would’ve thought a little pro-clean language would rile up some folks like that?

Are you up for the No Cussing Challenge?

It really is quite moving.  I may be biased, but I am impressed.  The orchestration and vocal performance is very well done; I love Jeremy Threlfall’s clear voice.  You can listen to the recording here.

Shamrock Pizzas

The Little Women went on a shamrock treasure hunt, following arrows to a special prize:  Finger Puppets!

Sure, America may have the Oscar Meyer wiener van and the golden arches, but it has nothing on the Swiss.  What doesn’t scream “Eat Me!” more than a giant red chicken?  No, you say?  How about these Giant Food Sitings:

OK – this one isn’t technically food per se, but I think it fits right along with this post: