Days 3-4: Schilthorn, Interlaken, Basel

I had originally planned for us to do the Jungfrau trip AND hike to the Trift suspension bridge near Meiringen in the same day. This was my most foolish idea of the whole trip. I've learned now, you do not mess with missing the last scheduled cable car down the mountain of the day. Luckily I caught my stupidity before we actually attempted it. Instead, we chose to go to the Schilthorn and then ride down to Birg which is supposed to have some awesome hiking. Since Gimmelwald is the first stop on the aerial cable car trip up to Schilthorn anyway, we could make the 8:30 am lift and sleep to a reasonable hour. Although, in our rush to catch the 8:30 lift, we bought some tickets erroneously because until Mürren, our GAs and Swiss Passes were valid. The extremely nice lift driver caught our mistake and personally walked us to the ticket counter in Mürren and helped us get a refund. We promptly got our money back in cash, but with a processing fee of CHF 5 withheld. The Swiss are precise, the Swiss are efficient, and the Swiss charge a fee for everything.

The cable car ride was crowded but short-lived

High heeled shoes strictly prohibited on the Schilthorn

The Schilthorn is not the highest mountain around, but considering my lack of a stomach for crowds, I preferred it. We also saved hundreds of francs choosing it over Jungfrau--because of the Jungfrau's popularity, they give only a measly discount for GA and Swiss Pass. The Schilthorn was also the filming site of the Bond movie On Her Majesty's Secret Service and they play up that connection to the nines. The instant the cable car swung out of the Mürren station, the Bond theme song came on, and up at the peak, the observation deck sported two life-sized 2D figures: one of Bond, played only this once by George Lazenby, said to be the worst Bond ever, and one of the villain, who is clearly the inspiration for Austin Powers' Dr. Evil (I was thrilled to discover). We ate a lovely brunch with complimentary glass of Prosecco in the Piz Gloria revolving restaurant, named after the fictional evil research lab in the movie, and then ventured out on the deck. Clouds would obscure the views but then clear out a few minutes later, so we weren't disappointed. There was also a smaller observation platform that you had to hike a short distance out over the snow to get to. That was pretty scary even with the fence and handrails, so naturally I loved it. Looking out over the edge into the fog, it really seemed like an endless abyss.

Our next stop was Birg, where we planned to hike. But they are in the middle of a big construction project to build a new observation platform there. We were the only people around and it seemed that most if not all of the hiking was closed off or if not, highly dangerous and likely fatal. We ventured a few feet down a sleety, rocky path (past a sign that said "Mountain Dangers! Hike at your own risk!") and decided against it. We caught the next cable car down to Mürren and hiked a flat but gorgeous path to Grütschalp from there, picking up some fresh Alp cheese and yogurt from a stand along the way. A really nice thing along many hiking trails and just in smaller towns in Switzerland is that people put goods out for sale on the honor system. Take what you like, but leave some cash or suffer the guilt of thievery. There was the option to do that for the cheese, but we rang the bell for service because we wanted samples. Before we could finish our treats it started to rain and there was even one huge thunderclap (had it been winter I honestly would've prepared for an avalanche). But within maybe 30 minutes everything was clear again. This kind of quick weather change proved to be common during our times hiking at higher altitudes, and it never ruined anything. We just packed ponchos.

Thanks, but no thanks, Birg.

From Grütschalp, we rode the cable car down and made our way back to Interlaken. With some unexpected free time left in the day, we departed from my itinerary and decided to try the Harderbahn. A funicular that was built during Interlaken's Victorian tourism glory days, it winds up the hill like an incredibly slow roller coaster to a great view of the two lakes (Thunersee and Brienzersee). But it was miserably crowded and too expensive for what it was, in my opinion. I wouldn't do it again. Then we rode back down, wandered around the city of Interlaken, had cheap sandwiches for dinner and grabbed some beers at Coop Pronto for the train ride home. I was excited for my parents to experience drinking beer openly on the street and in the trains, so when I saw the Coop I just went right in. But it was brimming with tourists who spoke neither English nor German and many of whom had no Swiss francs but couldn't communicate with the cashier well enough to understand that Euro paper is accepted but not Euro coins. I waited probably 15 minutes to buy three beers, CHF 1.80 each. Bah! Tourists.

We spent the next day in Basel again because Juna's contemporary trombone group was playing a concert. In the morning my parents and I went to the Spielzeug (toy) Museum, where my Mom enjoyed the intricate dollhouse setups (my favorite was a miniature amusement park with rides that actually functioned) and found some Steiff stuffed animals she used to have as a kid. She was ecstatic. Then my parents went to the Tinguely Museum by themselves while I taught some piano lessons. I think the Swiss transit system is easy to figure out, but they kept saying how glad they were that Juna and I were there to manage all the train transfers. Still, they navigated the bus route all by themselves with no problem. That night, we went to Juna's concert where my parents got to hear world premieres by some great young composers and afterwards eat bratwurst and meet international students from all over (Germany, Poland, Serbia, England, the Netherlands, off the top of my head). They really enjoyed the whole evening, and it helped remind me how cool it is to live in Basel.

Switzerland with Mom and Dad Days 1-2: Basel, Montreux and Berner Oberland

To avoid glitches, wasted time and arguments over what to do, I created a freakishly detailed itinerary for my parents' visit. I'll spare you the train schedules and grocery shopping trips, but I will include my impressions: what went smoothly, what was unexpected, what was foolish to attempt in the first place, what I wouldn't do again, what I'd recommend to someone else.

Day 1: Mom and Dad arrived in Zürich airport early in the morning, and Juna and I picked them up. Basel to Zürich is about one hour by train. First thing, we bought their 8-day Swiss Passes (2nd class, CHF 393 each) which covered almost all train, tram and boat travel for their trip. For the kind of trip we did, with frequent travel covering almost every region of Switzerland, this pass was a good deal, especially because it also gave them free entry to every museum we went to. Then, with their suitcases, we took a tram to Tibits, a vegetarian restaurant with a great buffet, and got brunch food to take and eat by the lake. I wanted them to see a little bit of Zürich since they flew in there. Afterwards, we headed back to Basel, they took a nap and then we walked around, seeing the Rathaus, Müenster, Tinguely fountain, and a nice part of the Rhine near Wettsteinbrücke. We ate raclette for dinner (the Swiss never do this in the summer but we didn't care) and went to bed early. Some people told me when I was planning the trip that I should care more about my parents' jet lag, but after the first day it wasn't a problem for them. They were too excited (and busy) to care about sleep!

Day 2: We took a 9:30 train to Montreux to see the Chateau de Chillon, with transfers in Bern and Lausanne. For a bit of geographical context, Basel is in the northwest corner of Switzerland and Montreux is about three hours away in the southwest (on Lake Geneva). It seemed kind of out of the way to go there, but I thought my parents should see a formidable castle while in Europe, and it would also be the only time we got over into French speaking Switzerland. It was really nice, but I enjoyed Chateau de Gruyeres more, which was less touristy and smaller, furnished with lots of tapestries and preserved furniture and art. Chillon has the advantage of being on the lake--we took a boat to get there--and it has been visited by far more celebrities, as I found out from the art exhibit on display when we were there (blurry portraits of famous visitors including Dostoevsky, Dali, and Charlie Chaplin). But there was somehow a feeling of inauthenticity, which continued to bother me throughout the trip in high-traffic tourist areas, no matter how spectacular they were. This is really personal to me and in no way takes away from the rich history and beauty of the castle.

After we had our fill of the castle, we planned to take the boat back to Montreux and catch a train to Interlaken. Everything I read online about how to get to Chateau de Chillon led me to believe that we could take one there AND back. However, the boats run a giant loop and if you want to take one back to Montreux (which only took 15 minutes on the way over), it takes hours. This put me into a panic, briefly. But fortunately we could take a bus, the friendly English-speaking boat tour guides told us. But there was no clear bus stop for the train station, and the bus driver spoke no English. I remembered how to say train station in French so I said "Gare?" and he said yes, this bus went there. I was still unsure of which stop it was, so planned to keep my eyes peeled and trusted that the driver would make sure we got off at the right place. He didn't, we missed it by two stops, and we had to book it to make our panorama train.

What I read online about these mountain railways gave me the impression that 1) they ran a different route than any other regular train and 2) we very much needed to make a seat reservation lest the train fill up (which it would because of the jaw-dropping views). So we paid a little bit extra, but it soon became apparent that we didn't need to. The train didn't fill up and there were lots of people just using it to get home from work. We also discovered later that an IR train we planned to take just to get to our destination was a panorama train because that was the only train that ran that route. AND that some of the trains I take several times a week to get to school in Zürich are considered part of a "panorama" route. Basically, Switzerland is a panorama country and if you take a train through mountains, of which there are many, you will be on a panorama train whether you call it that or not. Rant aside, it was still pretty awesome to ride through mountain villages to end up in Interlaken Ost, the springboard for all Berner Oberland adventures.

From Interlaken, we headed in the direction of Gimmelwald, the tiny mountain village I fell in love with from Rick Steves' TV show, where we would stay overnight. To get there, we had to take a train, a bus and finally a gondola lift up what seemed like a sheer vertical cliff (it's the only way to access the village, but it still seemed just too special for our Swiss Passes and GAs to cover, which they did!). I couldn't believe there were PEOPLE up there, in this cloud-obscured place above the waterfalls. Aside from the (very friendly) college-aged boys from Newcastle who seemed to be running the Pension Gimmelwald where we stayed, Gimmelwald completely satisified my desire to get away from all traces of tourism. It really seemed like there were only 3 or 4 small guest houses for hikers/skiers and everything else was people's houses and small stores. I couldn't believe the views out our window in the morning, or how much of a grade you'd have to climb just to get to your neighbor's place! We explored a little bit and met some goats and a friendly cat, but I never got my fill of Gimmelwald. I really want to go back, hang out with some locals and eat Alpine cheese.

See that cliff with the waterfall? We stayed up there!

Gondola lift up to Gimmelwald

The view out of our room in the morning

Mountainfolk and City Dwellers

A friend of mine is on a mission to educate her German neighbors on how to be polite. In her opinion this means saying hello or in some other way acknowledging each other when they pass on the street. She argues that the tendency to ignore people--avoiding eye contact with strangers, heads down on the tram, phones constantly handy-- indicates a larger societal problem than just unfriendliness. It suggests we are uncomfortable interacting with the world, and this has dangerous implications for our whole psycho-physical beings, social creatures that we are.

I have to admit that I am often guilty of averting my eyes from strangers I pass on the sidewalk, but I think maybe it has more to do with the context than with the deep-seated problems of humanity (although I don't deny those exist). I recently spent some time on the other side of Switzerland in a small village called Werdenberg for a concert Juna was playing. While he rehearsed, I hiked through the picturesque, farm-dotted hills, snapping pictures and enjoying the animals. I feel like I made more of an effort to smile at everyone, but it wasn't just me. The smiles and Grüezi's were met by every single person I passed including a sweaty running lady (those hills are intense!), a wild looking white-bearded mountain man who whistled a nice tune, and a muscle man working on antique cars. Friendly acknowledgement was the norm.

The signs for the hiking trails were pretty clear, but I still ended up wandering right up into what was clearly someone's private property and a sheep dog started barking at me pretty aggressively. Even more awkward was that as I got closer I noticed a little old lady was calmly standing in her barn watching me approach. In German I asked her if this was the Wanderweg, fully expecting her to not understand me, given the rural location and thick dialect of the region. But she didn't blink an eye. Didn't even tell me I couldn't barge through what was basically her backyard if I wanted to, just kindly directed me back to the public trail, saying that was probably better for someone who didn't know their way.














Contrast that experience with my interactions around Basel. Yesterday, I tried to return a (way overpriced) shirt I bought a week or so ago because it didn't fit. I'd lost the receipt and knew my chances weren't good, but I had never worn the shirt and all the tags were intact. My German was perfectly understood by the sales associate, who went to fetch her manager. But when the manager walked up and I said hello, assuming the sales associate had told her what was going on, she just said "Ja?" So I explained myself again. Her reply: "Ich brauche eine Quittung" (I need a receipt). I inquired about several possibilities--could I exchange it for something else? could I merely exchange it for a different size, not even for a different item? Again, only "Ich brauche eine Quittung," with increasing condescension when finally she turned to the sales associate and asked her to tell me in English. I found this insulting. I know this behavior is certainly not something specific to Swiss retail managers (assholes are all over the world), but the language was just one more thing she could use to make me feel small. If she had just treated me like a human, just said "I'm really sorry, but we need a receipt for our paperwork. I wish I could help," I wouldn't have felt so bitter about it.

Then there are the numerous times I've been literally crashed into by people in grocery stores or (natürlich) in the train station who refuse to acknowledge that other humans exist and take up a certain amount of three-dimensional space. Sorry or entschuldigung is never uttered. I've learned the only way to get around is to be as clear as possible about where I'm walking so others have the best chance to get out of my way. Otherwise, I'm darting and dashing around everywhere because people WILL trample you. It's like driving around D.C. If you don't keep up with the reckless drivers, it's actually more dangerous. In this situation, there isn't actually time to say hello--you'd be jerking your neck around like a lawn sprinkler--but I wouldn't want to anyway.

One thing I do find really endearing and somewhat ironic about Swiss culture is that, on the train, (after rudely cutting you off on the escalators and train platforms), people will always ask you if the seat next to you or across from you is free if you were there first. I am so used to this politeness that now, if someone takes the seat next to me, which I have no ownership whatsoever over, and they don't ask first, I silently seethe a little bit about it.

I don't know what my friend would say, but in my opinion, to sum up these experiences is just to note the differences between city and village living. Maybe cities do breed isolation, and urban people need a reeducation in manners. Or maybe keeping to oneself in the crowd is a technique to survive this pace of life, and it's not for everyone (it is certainly overwhelming for me at times). But it does make those moments when you break through the ice more special, like on public transportation when an unaware teenager bangs her purse into an old lady's head, the lady rolls her eyes and smiles at you knowingly, and says "Adieu" when she leaves the tram.

My experience freelancing in Switzerland

Tonhalle Zurich--I haven't played here,
but Juna has!

Switzerland is a great place to be a musician. Our work is valued here. People actually attend concerts, approach new music with an open mind, and pay music teachers well. My boyfriend, Juna, while admittedly very lucky, has been able to support himself for several months now entirely off of performing contemporary music on the trombone.

However, I had a somewhat sour experience playing a few times for a Musikschule in a small village 30 minutes out of Basel. The pay was generous and the students were well-prepared and courteous but the administration delayed paying me for seven months. Their reason for doing this was that after the first gig in November, because I had committed to other gigs with the school in the spring, they figured they'd just pay me all at once at the end. What was even worse, the director refused to divulge the rate at which I would be paid, so I never even knew how much I was getting paid. Even after I was done, though, the communication was so screwed up that it still took over a month to get paid. Through all of this the music teachers who hired me had no awareness of or control over this situation. After many emails with the exceptionally difficult music school director, we resolved the situation and I finally got all my money a few weeks ago (over 1000 francs that I could've been using on monthly tuition payments).

A few things about the Swiss payroll system that I think could've helped the situation had I known them when I accepted the work:

It seems that if possible they only pay by direct debit to a bank account, not ever really by check. Bank accounts for Americans is a whole other post, but I'll just say it's useful to have one (and you're lucky if, as a low-earning student, you manage to open one!). I would've set up the account ASAP and provided the office with all the information they needed up front to get the payment process in motion.

It is normal to be paid weeks or months after doing work, but usually there is a system in place with a definite time frame. If I had known this, I would have asked up front what the system is so I could know when exactly I could expect to be paid, and have something to hold the administration accountable to. If I was really smart, I would've asked for something written that guaranteed payment by a certain date.

You often need to submit something called an AHV number, something assigned to everyone in Switzerland, and from my understanding is the equivalent of a social security number. Sometimes it's not necessary if you don't make over a certain amount, but it's good to know anyhow. I didn't know what mine was, so I had to travel to an office, show them my ID and get them to look it up. That, thankfully, was very easy and free. But because I didn't know the office needed it to pay me (because they never told me until I was asking them where my money was), but if I had known, then I would've given them that along with my bank account information up front.

Apparently, according to one of my Alexander teachers (British man who is married to my other Alexander teacher, a Swiss lady), it is much more common among Swiss to avoid paying a bill until they actually get a warning about it. He joked that the music school was just waiting for my "warning," but I fear that this is all too true. Even after several attempts from the teachers who hired me to get information and expedite the process, I had to email the music school director personally in my embarrassingly basic German before anything got done at all. If I knew that that's what it would take, I would've tried to insist on clarity and timeliness from the beginning, before I had done the work.

The worst thing I kept hearing throughout this situation (from other musicians especially!) was that I shouldn't worry that I wouldn't get paid. That was so not the issue. Some people even said to me that it just wasn't "the Swiss way" to pay in a timely manner. Whether that's something people should just accept is a discussion in itself, but it was especially frustrating to me. Money is not some abstract thing that I can take or leave, now or later. It's nice that I am getting music-related work but it's not enough just to know that I'm appreciated and I will be paid quite well (at some distant future time). I need to know where this month's rent is coming from. 

I do think Juna has experienced much better organization and timeliness from the groups he's played with. And I should also make it clear that I know mine is only one experience. I'm not interested in drawing generalizations. But I did end up accompanying again much more recently, this time for a friend at the Musik Akademie in Basel. I tried to keep my promise to myself that I wouldn't do music work again without something written stating when and how much I would be paid. But this proved impossible (probably for a number of subjective, specific reasons, to be fair). On the day of the gig, when paperwork was supposed to be submitted, the forms were forgotten by the person in charge. Again, for subjective reasons I can see why this happened, but professionally it is unacceptable to me, especially given that I was almost to the point of paranoia asking about rates and pay periods and contracts weeks in advance of the gig, with no steps taken except reassuring me that I would be paid. Finally, after sending an email in which I feel I came on probably a little strong (but feeling this was necessary after my previous experience!), I got a response that what I'm asking for is "fast for Swiss offices." 

In the end it worked out, and at CHF 75/hour, it's a far better rate than I ever made in Bowling Green, OH. Perhaps the issue here is not really freelancing in Switzerland but having integrity as a working musician. The conditions musicians are willing to accept are less than fair in many situations (unfortunately this applies especially to pianists) because we do something we love. This isn't an original idea, but maybe more folks on this continent could stand to hear about it.