Switzerland and the three C's; Cello, Cheese and Chocolate!

After 24 hours of traveling through five countries by plane (Burkina Faso, Mali, Senegal, Portugal and Switzerland) and one missed flight I finally made it to Europe! 

My first starbucks sighting in almost 5 months

Culture shock has not quite set in too much, although the amount of traffic lights and lack of fruit stands on every corner is a little startling. However, the two weeks of Swiss retreat will have me right in no time! My re-introduction into first world living consists of 5 easy steps!
Step 1: Cello

When I entered my new room in my aunt's apartment I was greeted by an old friend...C-ello! This new cello was rented from a local luthier, whom I had the pleasure of meeting one saturday morning at his shop in Vevey (he showed us his current projects, restorations on instruments from the 1700s!). After months of being separated from my main instrument I now have a cello in my room! I can practice as much as I want, although I am limited by how much my fingers can handle (building callouses does take time, ouch!). As the days go by I grow increasingly nervous about my upcoming audition for my Vienna music program, but at least I have my companion back to comfort me. Plus, with a view like this to practice to, its easy to find the time to prepare. 
Step 2: Cheese

What, samples? Yes please!

What is the first thing you think of when you think of Switzerland? ( Discount the immediate man in lederhosen yodeling on top of the Alps that popped into your mind) That's right, Cheese! So sorry to those of you that don't have regular access to amazing cheese like this, but I think I'm in heaven. As soon as I arrived there was a cheese course before dessert. I think I have had cheese everyday since I have gotten here. On sunday I had the traditional Swiss meal of fondue for the first time this trip and I have had enough cheese to satisfy me for the rest of my European experience (ok, so not exactly true). I have already been in multiple shops where there are cases filled with just cheese! Gone are the days when I would savor Vache qui Rit (Laughing Cow) triangles. Not that there weren't other amazing foods to savor in Senegal, but lets get real, cheese is a staple in my diet. If my diet was a pie chart, the cheese portion would be the big 50% portion -Probably a half wheel of gruyere- If I could create a multi course meal with cheese in every part, I would (dessert you ask? Simple, CHEESECAKE!). Say Cheese!

Step 3: Chocolate

King cake

Ahh chocolate, another Swiss remedy, an integral part of readjustment. I am amazed by the number of bakeries and chocolateries around here. Honestly the theme from "Chocolate" plays in my head every time I walk past a slightly frosted window with a chocolate display (You know, the one with Johnny Depp and chocolate, a perfect combination). Not only that, but there are little wrapped chocolates scattered through my aunt's apartment. Hot tea, good music, a book and a mini chocolate...ahhhhh. Yes, culture shock is realllly rough.
Step 4: Wine

I need to fill you in on some of the details here. I am currently living in a small town called Cully, near the bigger city of Lausanne. Cully is a town comprised of vintners and acres of vineyards. My uncle, Pierre, owns several plots and makes his own wine (quite good, if I do say so myself). Morale of the story, wine is everywhere. Thank goodness I am 21 now, for those of you wondering at home (because I wouldn't be drinking any wine if I wasn't), because I can really appreciate an integral part of the culture here. Although I did enjoy the Flag beers and imported French wine in Senegal, nothing compares to locally made wine. People here give any excuse to go out and have a drink on any given night and that is usually after they have had several glasses already over the course of the day. This is not to say that this is a town of drunkards, it is a town of people who appreciate a nice glass of white with lunch and red with dinner. As they say here, pourquoi pas?

Step 5: Faire la Causette

The tenants of the apartment building raise a glass to the new year

My cousin Dorianne and I

Finally, village life. It is much easier to adjust to life in a small town then in a city. My friends who went directly back to the US after Senegal received shocks going into supermarkets and other megastores that the US is so famous for. For me, I went from walking around the streets in Senegal searching around for the one fruit stand among the 15 in the area around my apartment that had a grapefruit (think about how many starbucks there are in Seattle, now imagine that only one has a mocha frappucino, same difference) to walking the streets of Cully to the baker for bread and small grocery store for onions. The other benefit to village life is how everyone knows everyone. On my adventure to the bakery, the woman told me that I looked familiar and wanted to know who I was staying with and upon learning the last name of my uncle she nodded approvingly and helped me pick out a loaf of bread. Whenever I go out with my aunt, she is always running into some store or other to say hello to someone (I say running because she walks so fast I feel like she is running). I spent a cheerful friday evening with my aunt, uncle and their friends at a little pub while my uncle told stories about what the pub was like when he was young and exciting ( I think he told us about a drinking competition involving boot glasses, but sometimes my french fails me when there is too much ambient noise). The days here are often dotted with visits from friends and friendly conversations in the streets with friends that haven't been seen for a while. All of this is similar to the process in Burkina called "faire le tour" where you literally went around to everyone's house to say hi. I guess a village is a village, no matter where it is.

Glorious day at the market

My Swiss retreat Chez Gundi (that is my aunt's name) has been a success. I have to give a shout out to my aunt and uncle for housing me and listening to my attempts at cello playing for the past two weeks and general lazing around the house. All of the steps combined have invigorated new life into this Ballardite. I am ready for the next stage on my journey, Vienna!

A Burkinab(l)e Christmas!

Ah the Zavala's have landed in Burkina Faso and created quite a stir in a small town called Bagré! This is the small village community that Elena, my sister, has been living for the past three months. She lives in a small house, complete with latrine and hen coop.

Elena's new home!

Her direct neighbors are teachers at the high school that is nearby however  she has made connections with most families in the community and I am happy to report that she has fit into the community very well. Our time with her was spent seeing all of her friends and neighbors, drinking lots of sodas, eating lots of food and cleaning her house (verrry necessary during the dry season when dust coats everything no matter how much you try to get ride of it). This year was the first year that we did not spend with our extended family ( Zavala or Ege), which has its downsides, however it was by no means a quiet Christmas.

The day of we all got dressed up in our finest and headed out to church.
Elena has been going to a Protestant church just about every sunday and so we decided to accompany her this time. Usually a girl from the village by the church comes by to pick her up, but with impatient American parents we opted not to wait for her and head over (just in case it started without us). After a quick bike ride (A friend of Elena's found us bikes to borrow for the time we were there which is very lucky as you really cannot get around the area of Bagré without one) we arrived at the church. immediately we were ushered into the house of the minister where we sat in front of the TV and shook hands with everyone in the house as well as anyone who wanted to come in the room (which felt like the whole village).

We could hear noise coming from the church and soon after we were once again escorted outside and into the church. The noise had been coming from a small band (aka a VERY beat up drum set,several boxes that were sat upon and used as drums, a loud bass guitar and an electronic keyboard set to organ setting) and all the people in the church singing and dancing. The children were hopping around in the front while the adults were standing in place moving and singing to the music. We very quickly realized we were guests of honor as they placed us in the front, on the stage next to the ministers. One of them translated for me during the service, which ended up being very helpful. First off everyone sang and danced several songs and each of the choirs (yes there were muliple, but they were more groupings as in "female choir" "everyone choir" "young girls choir" "children's choir" " and "adult male choir") sang a song or two before the service started. The minister conducted his sermon in More (Elena, forgive my spelling), the local language and the translator very kindly translated everything into french. We were not the only visitors and so I don't think it was just for our benefit. The minister prowled around the stage like a proud lion instructing the pack on the joys of Jesus Christ. It was by far the most intense experience in a church I have every had. At the end they had us introduce ourselves and then we were presented with a gift from the church, in the hopes that we could forge a union between their church and our church in America (I neglected to tell them that we were not actually Protestant but Unitarian Universalist, whoops!) as it turns out it was not a chicken (contrary to our first guesses) but a large portion of handmade fabric, a very generous gift indeed. After the service we were ushered back into the house of the minister along with the other guests (ministers from the capitol city) to drink sodas and eat what I believe was chicken.

Elena, Me, her friend from Ivory Coast, another girl and my Mom

Then we went to the house of my sister's friend, a girl from the Ivory Coast who is 14 years old, where we had more sodas. She told us that her family had a chicken for us, but it had disappeared. As we were leaving the chicken as found and came home with us on the handlebars of Elena's bike.

Bringing home the bacon! Uh...chicken

Once we arrived home my dad passed out on the floor and my mom, sister and I decided to "faire le tour" aka go around to all the neighbor's houses and eat/drink ourselves silly. I think I ate more popcorn and meat then I have ever eaten in one day. After 3 or 4 houses (hard to remember) and several hours later we headed home and crashed. A more exciting and exhausting Christmas then I have ever had!

Elena eating popcorn after a long day

My trip to Burkina was a great experience, especially to see my sister at her new site and the community she has become apart of, not to mention understand why she never seems to have a moment to herself! The village may be small in size but it is big in personality and heart. As one woman said, "I want my spice!!!"