St. Maurice Abbey and Thermal Baths

Today, I went on an excursion with five girls and the priest from l’Aumonerie to visit St. Maurice, the oldest abbey in the world. It was built in the early 500s, and there are still remnants of the original framework of the building. Giovanni, the priest, gave us a private tour of the monastery, showing us the sleeping quarters, the tunnel with the water source that flows under your feet, the old crypts and frescas, and some prized treasures – chests of gold, silver, and gems, intricate bronze crosses, statues, and figurines. The rooms were rich with history and character, and he gave us a wonderfully detailed description of the significance of each religious symbol that graced the monastery. For instance, you often see two doves drinking from the same source of water and a serpent that wraps around the perimeter of the birds but cannot access the source. This signifies a closeness with God and is used many times in religious artwork from the Middle Ages. The Tree of Life also plays an important role in religious relics, as it is even incorporated in some drawings of the crucifix. The square crucifix with the clover-shaped ends is characteristic of the Tree of Life. You can see this style of artwork in chandeliers, columns, paintings, and mosaics.
After having eaten lunch in the monastery, we took a lovely walk along the Rhone and profited from the beautiful autumn colors and the vast mountain. We finally reached the thermal baths after our hike, which are therapeutic outdoor pools that receive water from a natural underground source. Since the water is from a natural source, it is full of minerals that are excellent for the skin and aid in removing the everyday toxins that our bodies absorb from daily pollution. The source provides water at about 65-70 oC (149 - 158 oF), and the bathing facility must cool off the water before it is cool enough for human skin (the water was at least 80 oF when we were swimming). It is quite a sight during night time, because it was about 40 oF outside and you could see the steam rising from the pools into the night sky. They had water jets in the pool where you could lay down and the bubbles would massage your whole body. There were also Jacuzzi areas, jets of water for the back, the head, the feet, the legs, etc. They also had a giant cascade of water (like a mushroom) where you could go under and surround yourself with the sound of the waterfall. The favorite activity was the whirlpool, where a current of water would push you in a circle along a wall, and we played many games here – holding onto the railing and resisting the current, traversing the pool with our feet on the walls and our backs to the center, jumping over each other, doing flips, and jumping up and down as the current carried us round and round. It was the most fantastic sensation to be immersed in the warm water and then to jump high into the cold air.
In addition to the outdoor facilities, they had wonderful saunas and relaxation rooms. The first one we visited was a Turkish hamam, which is a wet sauna filled with the smell of essential oils – it is heated to about 60 oC (140 oF)with so much humidity that you cannot see the person sitting next to you. It is basically like sitting in a cup of chamomile or jasmine tea. You walk in and can barely breathe, and there is a small fountain in the center where you can drink cold water. You then sit on the bench and let the oils penetrate your senses and your skin; I have to say that this provided the perfect atmosphere for meditation and reflection. It is the combination of a tropical rainforest and the continuous burning of incense. The scent of the oils takes over your olfactory senses and forces you to really concentrate on taking full breaths. Ten minutes in the hamam, and you feel rejuvenated and detoxified.
Afterwards, we went into two different saunas – the first was heated to 85 oC (185 oF), which was very very hot, and they had different oils permeating the room. The next sauna was 30 degrees cooler, but still pretty hot. (If you spend too much time in these saunas, you start to cook like a pizza.) Because it is important not to overheat the body, they have showers and a pool where you plunge into cold water (about 10 oC - 50 oF - or so). They also have what is called a “nuit polaire,” where you put on these plastic sandals and walk into a room dripping with ice and snow. You can throw snowballs and drink fresh, cold water. The facility also provides relaxation rooms with different types of lighting; one room uses only white light with a gradual change to red, yellow, green, and blue, depending on the timer. There is also relaxing music and an explanation of the colors and how they affect the body. After that, there is a blacklight room where you lay on beach cots and listen to more relaxing music. Overall, the cost is about 20-25 CHF for 3 hours of massages, swimming, therapeutic lighting, and saunas with essential oils. I think I am ready to take my exam on Monday after having completely eliminated my stress. What an excellent end to the day.

6th Mountain Cheese Olympics

Because the Swiss love their cheese, I thought it would be pretty important to see what all the fuss was about. Thus, I decided to organize an excursion to Saignelégier, Bellelay, and Tramelan, three cities in the Jura, for the 6th Mountain Cheese Olympics. There were 630 different types of cheese, and the event was free, offering cheese tasting, games, traditional Swiss music, tours of cheese factories, seminars, and other activities.
First of all, I think it is awesome that Switzerland offers a student transportation card that allows you to travel after 7pm for free. We thus took the 2 hour train to les Reusilles, a small village near Tramelan, to stay at a small bed and breakfast called “Chez Marie.” After taking several wrong turns and reaching the end of the village, we finally found the path to the bed and breakfast – a completely dark pedestrian path that led us through farms, and eventually, her small farm. The woman who owned the bed and breakfast lived in the house and had one room open for guests. She was the most delightful woman I have ever met – warm, welcoming, and full of useful information about Swiss tourism and activities. She was not at the house when we arrived at about 10:30, but because this was small-town Switzerland, she left the door open for our entry. She arrived at about 11:15 and shared with us some stories about previous visitors and her history in the village.

In our room, she left a bowl of delicious plums and apples and a visitor’s book to fill with our comments and drawings. We read previous entries, and everyone raved about her hospitality; some drew gorgeous pictures of the Swiss countryside and cute cartoons and whatnot. You could tell that this was a rather unique place to stay – the room was filled with books and games and travel information, and there was a small reading area outside our door that overlooked the kitchen. The chairs were covered in hand-made pillows and blankets, and there were children’s stuffed animals, posters, and artwork all over. The owner was also a marble painter, so she had books, cards, and other pieces on display and for sale. Her eye for beauty and her warm heart were very well represented in this little cottage, as we instantly felt at home and comfortable. It was a shame that we could only stay for one night, because I would have loved to stay to talk with her for the day and learn about her origins and watch her paint in her studio.
In the morning, she prepared for us a breakfast with homemade apricot and prune jam, marmalade with lemon zest, yogurt with raspberries, bread with walnuts, muesli with oatmeal, honey, cheese, and jasmine tea. We passed a relaxing morning enjoying the delicious meal and watching the sheep graze in her backyard; we sat with her and talked about the cheese festival (she also planned on attending), and she told us about her favorite ski slopes – known only by locals and offering a beautiful view of the mountains – and an event that happens in the spring near Basel. Evidently, they close the river off to boats so that people can swim along the river from several small towns to Basel. After you arrive on the beach, there are outdoor showers where you can rinse off and change into dry clothes, which you put in a plastic sack and tie around your waist. It definitely sounds like an interesting mode of transportation, and I plan to pursue this as an excursion for the spring.
We took the shuttle bus to the covered cheese market after breakfast, and, inside the large tent, there were little wooden booths for each cheese maker. They offered free samples of their cheeses and sometimes had elixirs and juices to taste as well. I really enjoyed the fresh-pressed apple juice, which tasted like all the wonderful elements of an apple pie, apple cider, and applesauce. It was rich and bold in flavor. Delicious. As for my favorite cheeses, I purchased four different kinds, all originating from Switzerland. Two kinds were from a German region (Grand Cru and der Rasse), one from the Jura (bio cheese with wild garlic), and one from a French region (cow’s cheese that was similar to brie but much creamier). There was also a stand that had the best yogurt I have ever tasted; it was made from sheep’s milk, and there were different flavors, such as vanilla, mocha, chocolate, raspberry, and natural. It was thick, creamy, rich, and full of intense flavor. It was probably packed with fat, but I was in heaven.
There were also opportunities to win free cheese in the children’s circus tent. They had games that you could play – a spin-the-wheel game, where I won a cut of fresh mozzarella, and some other activities – a fake cow where you could practice your milking skills, various cages of farm animals, and a demonstration of making mozzarella. The two men showed us how the leftover liquid, called “le petit lait” (or little milk), drained from the cheese. They let us taste this milk, which was warm and flavorful. They also showed us the cutting process and explained how to stir and heat the cheese.
We returned to the covered market after the circus games to enjoy some jazz alphorn and accordion music. There were many talented musical groups that played throughout the day, and it was interesting to compare the contemporary with the traditional. My favorite group was made up of two sisters who played accordion; they were the most talented accordion players I have ever seen. Their fingers moved with such grace, and they played with intricacy and precision. In short, they were admirable musicians, and I hope that someday I am good enough to jam like that!

In Bellelay, the second village, we visited the Abbey, where the Tete de Moine cheese originated. They were preparing for the gala event, so the main room was filled with dining tables and fancy table settings – three wine glasses per person and the whole assortment of silverware. This was definitely not a jeans and t-shirt event. It would have been nice to see the all the attendees dressed up in gowns and tuxes. Bellelay also offered tours of the horse stables and their medieval museum, where there were demonstrations of Tete de Moine cheese-making, explanations of shoe-making and evolution during the Middle Ages, and ancient wood-carving. The monks were selling homemade pea soup that was full of vegetables and immediately warmed a cold stomach. (They didn’t just have delicious cheese!)

Finally, a round of applause for Switzerland for putting on quite a show! Thanks for filling our bellies and putting smiles on our faces.

Visit from America

This Thursday, I received a visit from America. Two dear friends, Maddie and Christine, who are currently studying in Vienna this year, decided to pay me a visit in Switzerland, and I could not be more elated to show them around my new home. Not only did I show them my favorite Lausanne park - le parc de Sauvebelin - and take them to the most famous hot chocolate cafe in in the city, but showed them the beauty of anoter country - France.

After thirty five minutes by ferry, we arrived in the city of Evian, famous for its pure theraupeutic water. We traversed the historical path through the city and learned about the famous Evian fountain that healed a king and resulted in a marriage. It is incredible to imagine how such a common staple can be so powerful to a community. We found a line of people waiting to fill their empty plastic bottles and watched as families loaded their cars with liters of fresh spring water. In order to experience the full effect of this fountain, we stood among the line of people and waited our turn to fill our empty bottles and to take a picture of the event.

Unfortunately, I have not received my magical powers yet. But patience - there is still time.

On Friday we toured the natural and the man-made parts of Lausanne. We walked among the old judicial buildings, churches, and schools. After having walked throughout the centre ville, we were in need of a serious lunch. There just so happened to be a creperie near the Cathedrale that could not have been more perfect in satiating our appetites. Roquefort, egg, mushroom, nuts...so many delicious fillings to warm our empty stomachs. My mouth still waters when I think about that salty cheese and delicate pancake.

We also tasted the most famous hot chocolate in all of Lausanne at le Barbare, a small cafe near the Cathedrale. It has a rich consistency like that of pudding - almost equivalent to a melted chocolate bar - and melts in your mouth like a small taste of heaven.

All in all, the two short days were filled with enchantment, and I was glad to share it with such wonderful company. It is comforting to know that there are others who share your struggles and often seek beauty in everyday life. Such is study abroad.

I live in this beauty

Lush green vineyards, trickling waterfalls, stone walls, glistening lakeside, snow-capped mountains....and I live here.

You really appreciate the full beauty of a country when you can explore it by bike. This Sunday, a group of 15 of us rode from Lausanne to Montreux and back to visit le Chateau de Chillon, a 70 km (43 mi) trip during a gorgeous sunny day. It just so happens that this was the one of the last beautiful days of the season, and we picked well. It was perfect weather for picnicking, biking, taking photos, and taking a leisurely nap in the sun. I was enjoying the scenery so much that I had to stop and take a picture every few minutes, as each little town offered a different beautiful view. The houses are situated on the hill such that the scene looks like a painting from a fairy tale, and as you ride further along the path, you pick up more of the story.

At the end, the grandeur of the Chateau was enough to make even the most fatigued rider proud of the journey. We had the afternoon to tour the castle and learn about the history of this iconic Swiss structure. Famous for Lord Byron's poem, "The Prisoner of Chillon," each room leads you through the story of life in the 18th Century and of the man who was chained in the dungeon for 6 years. In addition to stories of the famous prisoner, each room recreated a scene in 18th century life - preparation of feasts for hundreds of people, fabrication of furniture, armour design, and defense against intruders. (Check out the album for pictures from each room!)

After having enjoyed our visit at the castle, we headed back to Lausanne, where we saw other groups of bikers relishing the last moments of their Sunday evening. What I appreciate most about this country is that there really is a day devoted to rest, relaxation, and enjoyment of the natural world. Everyone seems to take advantage of the beautiful autumn colors and the crisp, fresh air. I wish to always have one day in the week to be reminded of what it means to enjoy life.

Monks and Laundry

Today was supposed to be a day of excitement, but, unfortunately, I only did normal things like laundry and cleaning the bathroom. I suppose that's what rain will do to ruin a fun day.

However, tomorrow I am going to le Chateau de Chillon with some of my friends from the Xchange excursion. We are biking about 60 km total to and from Montreux, a small town near Lausanne. The Chateau is famously linked to Lord Byron, who apparently wrote a poem while staying in the castle - it is a story about an imprisoned Genevois monk. Brace yourselves...it's a long one.
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The Prisoner of Chillon I
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My hair is grey, but not with years,
Nor grew it white
In a single night,1
As men's have grown from sudden fears:
5 My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil,
But rusted with a vile repose,
For they have been a dungeon's spoil,
And mine has been the fate of those
To whom the goodly earth and air
10 Are bann'd, and barr'd -- forbidden fare;
But this was for my father's faith
I suffer'd chains and courted death;
That father perish'd at the stake
For tenets he would not forsake;
15 And for the same his lineal race
In darkness found a dwelling-place;
We were seven - who now are one,
Six in youth and one in age,
Finish'd as they had begun,
20 Proud of Persecution's rage;
One in fire, and two in field,
Their belief with blood have seal'd:
Dying as their father died,
For the God their foes denied; --
25 Three were in a dungeon cast,
Of whom this wreck is left the last.
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II
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There are seven pillars of Gothic mould,
In Chillon's dungeons deep and old,
There are seven columns massy and grey,
30 Dim with a dull imprison'd ray.
A sunbeam which hath lost its way,
And through the crevice and the cleft
Of the thick wall is fallen and left:
Creeping o'er the floor so damp,
35 Like a marsh's meteor lamp:
And in each pillar there is a ring,
And in each ring there is a chain;
That iron is a cankering thing,
For in these limbs its teeth remain,
40 With marks that will not wear away,
Till I have done with this new day,
Which now is painful to these eyes,
Which have not seen the sun so rise
For years -- I cannot count them o'er,
45 I lost their long and heavy score
When my last brother droop'd and died,
And I lay living by his side.
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III
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They chain'd us each to a column stone,
And we were three -- yet, each alone;
50 We could not move a single pace,
We could not see each other's face,
But with that pale and livid light
That made us strangers in our sight:
And thus together -- yet apart,
55 Fetter'd in hand, but pined in heart;
'Twas still some solace, in the dearth
Of the pure elements of earth,
To hearken to each other's speech,
And each turn comforter to each
60 With some new hope or legend old,
Or song heroically bold;
But even these at length grew cold.
Our voices took a dreary tone,
An echo of the dungeon stone,
65 A grating sound -- not full and free
As they of yore were wont to be;
It might be fancy -- but to me
They never sounded like our own.
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IV
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I was the eldest of the three,
70 And to uphold and cheer the rest
I ought to do -- and did my best
And each did well in his degree.
The youngest, whom my father loved,
Because our mother's brow was given
75 To him - with eyes as blue as heaven,
For him my soul was sorely moved:
And truly might it be distressed
To see such bird in such a nest;
For he was beautiful as day --
80 (When day was beautiful to me
As to young eagles being free)
A polar day, which will not see
A sunset till its summer's gone
Its sleepless summer of long light
85 The snow-clad offspring of the sun:
And thus he was as pure and bright,
And in his natural spirit gay,
With tears for nought but others' ills,
And then they flow'd like mountain rills,
90 Unless he could assuage the woe
Which he abhorr'd to view below
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V
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The other was as pure of mind,
But form'd to combat with his kind;
Strong in his frame, and of a mood
95 Which 'gainst the world in war had stood,
And perish'd in the foremost rank
With joy: -- but not in chains to pine:
His spirit wither'd with their clank,
I saw it silently decline
100 And so perchance in sooth did mine:
But yet I forced it on to cheer
Those relics of a home so dear
He was a hunter of the hills,
Had follow'd there the deer and wolf;
105 To him this dungeon was a gulf,
And fetter'd feet the worst of ills
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VI
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Lake Leman lies by Chillon's walls:
A thousand feet in depth below
Its massy waters meet and flow;
110 Thus much the fathom-line was sent
From Chillon's snow-white battlement,2
Which round about the wave inthrals:
A double dungeon wall and wave
Have made -- and like a living grave.
115 Below the surface of the lake
The dark vault lies wherein we lay,
We heard it ripple night and day;
Sounding o'er our heads it knock'd;
And I have felt the winter's spray
120 Wash through the bars when winds were high
And wanton in the happy sky;
And then the very rock hath rock'd,
And I have felt it shake, unshock'd,
Because I could have smiled to see
125 The death that would have set me free
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VII
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I said my nearer brother pined,
I said his mighty heart declined,
He loathed and put away his food;
It was not that 'twas coarse and rude,
130 For we were used to hunter's fare,
And for the like had little care:
The milk drawn from the mountain goat
Was changed for water from the moat,
Our bread was such as captive's tears
135 Have moisten'd many a thousand years,
Since man first pent his fellow men
Like brutes within an iron den;
But what were these to us or him?
These wasted not his heart or limb;
140 My brother's soul was of that mould
Which in a palace had grown cold,
Had his free breathing been denied
The range of the steep mountain's side;
But why delay the truth? -- he died.
145 I saw, and could not hold his head,
Nor reach his dying hand -- nor dead, --
Though hard I strove, but strove in vain,
To rend and gnash my bonds in twain.
He died - and they unlock'd his chain,
150 And scoop'd for him a shallow grave
Even from the cold earth of our cave.
I begg'd them, as a boon, to lay
His corse in dust whereon the day
Might shine -- it was a foolish thought,
155 But then within my brain it wrought,
That even in death his freeborn breast
In such a dungeon could not rest.
I might have spared my idle prayer --
They coldly laugh'd -- and laid him there:
160 The flat and turfless earth above
The being we so much did love;
His empty chain above it leant,
Such murder's fitting monument!
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VIII
___________________________________________________
But he, the favourite and the flower,
165 Most cherish'd since his natal hour,
His mother's image in fair face,
The infant love of all his race,
His martyr'd father's dearest thought,
My latest care, for whom I sought
170 To hoard my life, that his might be
Less wretched now, and one day free;
He, too, who yet had held untired
A spirit natural or inspired --
He, too, was struck, and day by day
175 Was wither'd on the stalk away.
Oh, God! it is a fearful thing
To see the human soul take wing
In any shape, in any mood: --
I've seen it rushing forth in blood,
180 I've seen it on the breaking ocean
Strive with a swoln convulsive motion,
I've seen the sick and ghastly bed
Of Sin delirious with its dread:
But these were horrors -- this was woe
185 Unmix'd with such -- but sure and slow:
He faded, and so calm and meek,
So softly worn, so sweetly weak,
So tearless, yet so tender -- kind,
And grieved for those he left behind;
190 With all the while a cheek whose bloom
Was as a mockery of the tomb,
Whose tints as gently sunk away
As a departing rainbow's ray --
An eye of most transparent light,
195 That almost made the dungeon bright,
And not a word of murmur -- not
A groan o'er his untimely lot, --
A little talk of better days,
A little hope my own to raise,
200 For I was sunk in silence -- lost
In this last loss, of all the most;
And then the sighs he would suppress
Of fainting nature's feebleness,
More slowly drawn, grew less and less:
205 I listen'd, but I could not hear --
I call'd, for I was wild with fear;
I knew 'twas hopeless, but my dread
Would not be thus admonished;
I call'd, and thought I heard a sound
210 I burst my chain with one strong bound,
And rush'd to him: -- I found him not,
I only stirr'd in this black spot,
I only lived -- I only drew
The accursed breath of dungeon-dew;
215 The last -- the sole -- the dearest link
Between me and the eternal brink,
Which bound me to my failing race,
Was broken in this fatal place.
One on the earth, and one beneath --
220 My brothers -- both had ceased to breathe:
I took that hand which lay so still,
Alas! my own was full as chill;
I had not strength to stir, or strive,
But felt that I was still alive --
225 A frantic feeling, when we know
That what we love shall ne'er be so.
I know not why
I could not die,
I had no earthly hope - but faith,
230 And that forbade a selfish death.
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IX
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What next befell me then and there
I know not well - I never knew --
First came the loss of light, and air,
And then of darkness too:
235 I had no thought, no feeling -- none --
Among the stones I stood a stone,
And was, scarce conscious what I wist,
As shrubless crags within the mist
For all was blank, and bleak, and grey,
240 It was not night -- it was not day,
It was not even the dungeon-light,
So hateful to my heavy sight,
But vacancy absorbing space,
And fixedness -- without a place;
245 There were no stars -- no earth -- no time
No check -- no change -- no good -- no crime
But silence, and a stirless breath
Which neither was of life nor death;
A sea of stagnant idleness,
250 Blind, boundless, mute, and motionless!
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X
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A light broke in upon my brain, --
It was the carol of a bird;
It ceased, and then it came again,
The sweetest song ear ever heard,
255 And mine was thankful till my eyes
Ran over with the glad surprise,
And they that moment could not see
I was the mate of misery;
But then by dull degrees came back
260 My senses to their wonted track,
I saw the dungeon walls and floor
Close slowly round me as before,
I saw the glimmer of the sun
Creeping as it before had done,
265 But through the crevice where it came
That bird was perch'd, as fond and tame,
And tamer than upon the tree;
A lovely bird, with azure wings,
And song that said a thousand things,
270 And seem'd to say them all for me!
I never saw its like before,
I ne'er shall see its likeness more:
It seem'd like me to want a mate,
But was not half so desolate,
275 And it was come to love me when
None lived to love me so again,
And cheering from my dungeon's brink,
Had brought me back to feel and think.
I know not if it late were free,
280 Or broke its cage to perch on mine,
But knowing well captivity,
Sweet bird! I could not wish for thine!
Or if it were, in winged guise,
A visitant from Paradise;
285 For -- Heaven forgive that thought! the while
Which made me both to weep and smile;
I sometimes deem'd that it might be
My brother's soul come down to me;
But then at last away it flew,
290 And then 'twas mortal -- well I knew,
For he would never thus have flown,
And left me twice so doubly lone, --
Lone -- as the corse within its shroud,
Lone -- as a solitary cloud,
295 A single cloud on a sunny day,
While all the rest of heaven is clear,
A frown upon the atmosphere,
That hath no business to appear
When skies are blue, and earth is gay.
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XI
___________________________________________________
300 A kind of change came in my fate,
My keepers grew compassionate;
I know not what had made them so,
They were inured to sights of woe,
But so it was: -- my broken chain
305 With links unfasten'd did remain,
And it was liberty to stride
Along my cell from side to side,
And up and down, and then athwart,
And tread it over every part;
310 And round the pillars one by one,
Returning where my walk begun,
Avoiding only, as I trod,
My brothers' graves without a sod;
For if I thought with heedless tread
315 My step profaned their lowly bed,
My breath came gaspingly and thick,
And my crush'd heart fell blind and sick.
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XII
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I made a footing in the wall,
It was not therefrom to escape,
320 For I had buried one and all
Who loved me in a human shape;
And the whole earth would henceforth be
A wider prison unto me:
No child -- no sire -- no kin had I,
325 No partner in my misery;
I thought of this, and I was glad,
For thought of them had made me mad;
But I was curious to ascend
To my barr'd windows, and to bend
330 Once more, upon the mountains high,
The quiet of a loving eye.
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XIII
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I saw them - and they were the same,
They were not changed like me in frame;
I saw their thousand years of snow
335 On high -- their wide long lake below,
And the blue Rhone in fullest flow;
I heard the torrents leap and gush
O'er channeled rock and broken bush;
I saw the white-wall'd distant town,
340 And whiter sails go skimming down;
And then there was a little isle,3
Which in my very face did smile,
The only one in view;
A small green isle, it seem'd no more,
345 Scarce broader than my dungeon floor,
But in it there were three tall trees,
And o'er it blew the mountain breeze,
And by it there were waters flowing,
And on it there were young flowers growing,
350 Of gentle breath and hue.
The fish swam by the castle wall,
And they seem'd joyous each and all;
The eagle rode the rising blast,
Methought he never flew so fast
355 As then to me he seem'd to fly,
And then new tears came in my eye,
And I felt troubled -- and would fain
I had not left my recent chain;
And when I did descend again,
360 The darkness of my dim abode
Fell on me as a heavy load;
It was as is a new-dug grave,
Closing o'er one we sought to save, --
And yet my glance, too much oppress'd,
365 Had almost need of such a rest
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XIV
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It might be months, or years, or days,
I kept no count - I took no note,
I had no hope my eyes to raise,
And clear them of their dreary mote;
370 At last men came to set me free,
I ask'd not why, and reck'd not where,
It was at length the same to me,
Fetter'd or fetterless to be,
I learn'd to love despair.
375 And thus when they appear'd at last,
And all my bonds aside were cast,
These heavy walls to me had grown
A hermitage -- and all my own!
And half I felt as they were come
380 To tear me from a second home:
With spiders I had friendship made,
And watch'd them in their sullen trade,
Had seen the mice by moonlight play,
And why should I feel less than they?
385 We were all inmates of one place,
And I, the monarch of each race,
Had power to kill - yet, strange to tell!
In quiet we had learn'd to dwell --
My very chains and I grew friends,
390 So much a long communion tends
To make us what we are: - even I
Regain'd my freedom with a sigh.
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As for tomorrow, if isn't beautiful, I will be upset to not have posted any pictures. (My apologies in advance).

Creux du Van in the Jura

One and a half hours in the “prison bus,” as we jokingly called it. Somehow, I got stuck in this bus both going to and from our destination of the day. Basically, we sat in a large van with benches in the back; we were separated from Christian, our driver and host of the Aumonerie, by a wire cage. As cars passed us on the highway, they would point and look at the ten girls squished in the back and sloshing around like water in a bucket. We would wave and smile, imagining what the passersby were saying to their families: “Look at those girls in the back of the bus. Why are they smiling and waving? They look too pretty to be prisoners.”

Near Neuchâtel, there is a very famous rock formation called the Creux du Van. It takes approximately 2 – 2.5 hours to hike up this incredible incline (good climbing shoes are a must), and when you reach the top, the mist is so heavy that the temperature drops a good 20 degrees. After seeing this place, you cannot stop imagining such a view. Even though the air was heavy with fog, we were able to take some amazing pictures of this colossal structure. As you can see from the photos, it was rather cold and windy (I somewhat resemble Kermit the Frog in my rain jacket).

In some of the photos, you can also see wild mountain goats that have excellent climbing skills and resistance to the cold. Watching them was truly a spectacle.

I hiked for most of the day with Alba (from Spain) and Saskia (from Germany), and we shared many stories of our outdoor adventures in our hometowns and other travels. It was great to be among people who truly love the outdoors and take great care in respecting the environment around them.

After our long and steep descent from the cliff – our legs and arms were trembling at this point – we had a coffee at a small restaurant near the parking lot. It was then that the sun started to shine and there was no trace left of the mist that clouded our view of the rocks. Of course, if we had only waited another half an hour, we could have seen the Creux du Van much more clearly. Midway through our return trip, we stopped to see a panoramic view of Mont Blanc and Lac Leman. The sun was shining as bright as ever, and we enjoyed the few minutes to lie in the grass and rest our tired muscles. At any rate, this experience in nature has to top almost every other hiking excursion I have ever done in my life. The muscle pain and the cold could not have dampened my spirits one bit.

By the way, my legs still hurt.

Cailler-Nestlé Factory and Return of the Cows

On Saturday, the Xchange group organized a trip to Broc to visit the Cailler chocolate factory. Once we arrived in the city, you could smell the chocolate radiating from the building. I think that the people of Broc probably get tired of the smell every day, but I enjoyed it for the moment. The tour of the factory included a film describing the fabrication process, a brief explanation of the raw materials needed as well as their origins, a look at old wrappers and advertisements from the early 20th century, some information on old machinery, and, finally, unlimited chocolate sampling! This plethora of chocolate ranged from typical bars to bars filled with almond and hazelnut-butter. Then, we sampled “des branches,” which are sticks of chocolate rolled in nuts. There were also orange, coffee, mousse, nut butter, and chocolate-filled truffles at the very end. In short, we were stuffed with sweets only to find that they were selling all of their products at the end of the tour. Of course, many people filled grocery sacks with souvenir chocolate.

In order to burn off the large amount of calories from the tour, we took a short hiking trip back to Gruyère, where we then took a train to see the cow festival. This is the time where all of the cows have returned from the Alps, and their owners decorate them in flower headdresses and elaborate bells, showing them off to bystanders. They had a small market during the festival, which offered cheese, artisan goods, and clothing. I especially enjoyed watching the marching band play American songs – I believe they played one by Tina Turner!

I met some wonderful people while on this excursion: Yvonne and Florian (from Aachen, Germany), Leticia and Gil (from Lisbon, Spain), and Arslan and Memit (from Istanbul, Turkey). We met up later in the evening to attend the International Festival of Dance, to take a night tour of the city of Lausanne, and to go to a hole-in-the-wall bar with 1920s French music – Edith Piaf and Django Reinhardt were some of the musicians.