The weekend after my disinvitation from Marc’s I went to Geneva with the intention of meeting Flo’s friend Mouna’s English friend, Maddy.
On Friday I went to the bus stop at 4:10 to wait for the 4:30 bus. While I was waiting, I had an email conversation with my stalker (who is way less intense now, thanks!) in which she apologized for the comments of her classmates the day before. Well, good thing she apologized because I had had no idea that they had said anything mean. To give you some background, the comments were prompted by an activity in which I gave them objects and had them come up with a list of possible uses for them. A basic activity that enabled them to basically goof off for the first 20 minutes of class. But apparently it actually enabled them to develop bogus opinions about me. Here’s what was said:
-That bitch piss me off with that stuff, how can I describe that stuff?
-Shut up, she speak french
-No she doesn't
-Yes she does, she understand all
-I don't care, she is a bitch. We'd better don't come. Why do we came ?
-To have fun
-How yeeeah, we really have fun. Raa it piss me off.
So, anyway, I was at the bus stop. It was then 4:40. 4:45. 4:50. I decided I’d wait until 4:55 for the bus before I went to the cab company. My train was to be leaving at 5:26. Then I got up to check the bus time again. Not written on the schedule. Not written on the website. But written on a piece of paper taped to the back of the bus stop was the notice that the bus would no longer be coming at 4:30 during the week. But that it would be coming at 4:05. So that was a fantastic start to the weekend.
And by fantastic, I mean typical.
So then I walked to the taxi stand up the street to ask the woman (Nathalie) to take me to the train station. She said she’d had lots of people asking for her services that week. Good to know that I wasn’t alone in being bamboozled by the bus company.
Got the train to Geneva no problem and met up with Flo. On the way to Coppet, I recounted the story of my awesome winter break.
When we arrived at Flo’s, we entered through the kitchen, as usual. Olivier had our dinner, beef tartare and potato wedges, waiting. We went upstairs where Antoine, Flo, and I ate dinner. Greg was at the chalet with friends for the weekend.
After dinner, we played Clue(do), which has gotten a massive facelift since the days of my youth when my friends and I would play everyday after watching the movie Clue. Now you can draw cards that could make you lost the game earlier. It’s something like time runs out or there’s a bomb or something. It’s basically a completely unrelated game element. But it didn’t end up mattering because I messed up the game by saying that my guess was correct. Antoine was not pleased. (Especially because my fail came after Flo had accidentally forgotten to tell Antoine that she had one of the cards with which he had hypothesized.) So I played with Antoine again.
The next morning, at breakfast, we sat down to bread and jam. I went for the reduced fat butter not really thinking much of it. Then Antoine asked me, “Seriously?” Because he said I didn’t need to lose any weight. Darling boy. He didn’t know about the doctor telling me to basically stop shoving sticks of butter into my gob. After helping Antoine with his homework, Flo took me to the train station in Nyon to get to Geneva.
After I got off the train, I sauntered down to the Starbucks where Maddy and I had planned on meeting. Even though I’m basically morally opposed to Starbucks as an option. I think for non-Americans it’s basically the height of swag. But I’m getting ahead of myself. As I walked towards Starbucks, I realized I had left my camera in Belley. Dumb. So I took some photos of Geneva with my phone! Enjoy!
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| Rock! |
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| Gazebo? |
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| Mistake that became a fountain! |
I got to the Starbucks a bit late because of my photography time, so I didn’t get anything. Boohoo. Jokes. After we chatted for a bit, we decided to move onto lunch. So we went to this chicken place that’s super popular. We both got salads. Mistake. Especially since a salad cost as much as half a chicken. And because the salad was dumb and probs worse than something I’d have made myself. Except for the crusty goat cheese. That was the only thing that saved it. In case you want to know anything about Maddy, she’s like platinum blonde with blue eyes, and she’s interning at the bank where Flo and Mouna work so that she can improve her French. She’s also from just outside of London. She also says that there’s not enough to do in Geneva and is basically bored with it. Obviously I had 0 pity for her.
I got to the Starbucks a bit late because of my photography time, so I didn’t get anything. Boohoo. Jokes. After we chatted for a bit, we decided to move onto lunch. So we went to this chicken place that’s super popular. We both got salads. Mistake. Especially since a salad cost as much as half a chicken. And because the salad was dumb and probs worse than something I’d have made myself. Except for the crusty goat cheese. That was the only thing that saved it. In case you want to know anything about Maddy, she’s like platinum blonde with blue eyes, and she’s interning at the bank where Flo and Mouna work so that she can improve her French. She’s also from just outside of London. She also says that there’s not enough to do in Geneva and is basically bored with it. Obviously I had 0 pity for her.
After lunch, we went shopping for a few hours and I made my first European purchase: some carpet bag cloth floral flats from the Soldes at Zara. Very exciting. While out shopping, we stumbled upon a strike! This is a big deal because they’re pretty rare in Geneva. (They really aren’t French at all.) Maddy said that the last strike she had seen there was about the lack of nightclubs in Geneva. This one was about solidarity with Tunisia.
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| It's nice if the biggest problem in your city is the need to have solidarity. |
We wandered back to the train station, but we had some time to kill before my train back to Nyon. So guess where we went. Starbucks. I got a mocha because I was feeling a bit fatigued and knew that I would be up until at least midnight because we were going to Bingo for the evening. WHAT A MISTAKE! Them prices be bonkers! I got a small mocha for I think 5.80 CHF. Highway robbery!
Chit chat chat cha-chat chat. Back on the train. I had to use the toilet on the train because I still can’t justify paying to use facilities. So I went to the little cabin. I waited for like 10 minutes for someone to come out before I looked a bit closer at the sign on the door that said to go use a toilet in another part of the train. This “me not seeing signs” thing was getting embarrassing.
Whatevs. Got to Nyon and got into car with Flo and Antoine to set off to Lausanne, which is where Flo’s sisters live and where the Lotto was happening. They actually live outside of Lausanne in what Antoine described as the “hole of the world.” I think they live in St. Barthélémy. I mean, it literally is farms all around them. Like, I don’t know how they found it. But to each his/her own. After we arrived, we almost immediately sat down to dinner. It was Charly and Giselle (Olivier’s parents), Marionne and Véro (Flo’s sisters), Véro’s landlady, Flo, Antoine, and me. We had a fondue dinner where you dipped the meat into oil/water with spices. I got to have horse! This is a big deal because when I visited Flo 2 years ago while I was living in London Antoine told me several times, “First I ride the horse, and then I eat it.” We also had chicken and beef. But the horse was most important. It was good. Really no different from beef, I’d say. Maybe more tender? Who knowz!?
After dinner, Véro, Giselle, Charly, and the landlady hurried to Lotto to secure seats because this is apparently the event of the season. It happens twice a year, and the whole town turns up. After we cleaned up a bit, the rest of us walked over. It was jam packed. People were sitting on the stairs, we were smooshed together on benches, it was absolute madness.
We sat down and Flo explained the game to me and handed me my book of 24 Lotto cards. Each card offered 2 chances to win. Eventually, it was go time, and they opened the curtains to reveal the prizes. On stage were baskets and baskets of sausages, cheeses, whole legs of meat. Basically a barnyard festival! The grand prize, though? A sheep. I really wanted her so that I could sell her. But first, I would have named her America. In the end, I didn’t win anything. But Antoine won 3 times, and Charly won once. The landlady also won. The whole night was really good practice for my numbers. Except only sort of because in Switzerland they use different words to say 70, 80, and 90.
French: 70=soixante-dix (seventy-ten), 80=quatre-vingt (four-twenty), and 90=quatre-vingt-dix (four-twenty-ten)…It clearly rewards the mathematically inclined.
Swiss French: 70=septante, 80=huitante, 90=novante. It’s awesome and way faster to figure out.
Afterwards, we walked back to Véro and Marionne’s before getting in the car for the drive back to Geneva.
The next day, after a pancake breakfast, Flo took me to the train station. As I rode from Geneva to Ambérieu (where I was supposed to make a connection to a train coming the opposite direction to get to Virieu so I could get the bus), high off of good weather and a great weekend, I was thinking to myself how I was really going to miss France. When I got off at Ambérieu, I found out that the train I had been on was late (but they hadn’t made an announcement) so I missed my 6-minute window to get the other train and would have to wait 3 hours for another train to Culoz. Not even to Virieu, because once I miss the bus, it doesn’t actually matter and I have to figure out some other way to get to Belley. So I texted Marc, but he was in Bourdeaux. I called Nicole, but she didn’t answer. So I had to call, guess who! Nathalie, the taxi driver. Good news is that it costs twice as much to take a taxi on Sundays, so that was super awesome.
And that’s why I’m not renewing my contract here.
Definitively,
Jess
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