Bern

After thirteen hours on a bus all I wanted to do was stretch my legs by walking around a cute Swiss town. As luggage was being sorted in the Italian way (all chaos) and starving Mormons busily made breakfast, I snatched up a darling elderly Missionary couple from Utah and drug them with me to Bern. Bern was the only large town I visited while in Switzerland, but it was unlike anything I had ever seen.

A picture of Bern in the summer copied from the internet because it is a much better picture than I could have taken.

The sweet missionary couple who follwed me and my Rick Steves Switzerland book through the city on a freezing morning.

The first thing I noticed was how clean Switzerland really was. Check out this market below! I thought it was impossible for markets to be clean. In Italy there is garbage and food all over the ground. The stands are close to each other, people push, and everything is loud. The Swiss market was beautiful, clean, and quiet but the Italian markets are much more fun to walk through.

In the background in the Swiss National Bank which according to Rick Steves (thank you Titus family for that introdution) stores half of the Swiss gold. The sign on the door was unforgettable:

This is me standing in one of the main squares of bern. It was freezing cold outside and I forgot to bring a hat!

This is Bern's famous clock that we arrived in front of just in time to see the jester come to life, Father Time turn his hourglass and the rooster crow in German. This show happens only once every hour. I am glad we arrived just in time because if I had waited longer than ten minutes I would have been dearly disappointed.

Below is a taste of the style of houses in Switzerland. Most of them are exactly like this, a type of white with colored shutters.

In the cluster of houses below is Albert Einstein's house in which he made his famous discovery E=MC2


And here are some pictures of Bern's buildings and streets:

As you have probably seen, the particular thing about Bern is that all of the buildings in the historic center and exactly the same color: an olive greenish gray color. It was very difficult to tell what road I was on. In fact, in the 16th century, the city commissioned eleven brightly colored fountains to be placed in the middle of the roads. These fountains, which were adorned with color, were fun to see and for a moment filled the street with life.



One of my favorite things in the city was seeing all of the transportation wires strewn high above the roads and clinging to the tops of the olive buildings. This is probably a common sight in big cities but I had never seen anything like it. High above each road was this disply:


But, without a doubt, my favorite thing about Bern was the cellars. These cellars used to store potatoes, coal, and wine, but today they are boutiques, small specialized shops, and coffee bars. These cellars crowded the sides of the street and were absolutely darling to visit.

Bern was a city so drastically different than anything I had ever seen before. I soaked it all up. I went back and back again. I walked around the city in the morning silently pondering watching the Swiss read the newspapers and drink their morning coffee. I admired the crafts in the clean markets, and one evening discovered the city at night with the other young single adults. I would love to go back to Bern. Hopefully someday I will.

A Breath of Fresh Air

It was so different::Switzerland is truly a whole other world::I can’t believe it shares a border with Italy.

I have never been to two such opposite places: one where chaos rules, litter abounds, and a pleasure filled life is one’s only pursuit, to a country where perfection resides, cleanliness, clarity, and silence penetrate. It is the most interesting experience to cross the border and within a twenty minute drive already see the stark contrast. For me, and all the other Italian for that matter, it was a breath of fresh air.

Switzerland is exactly how you imagine it: immaculate roads, trains and train stations without graffiti, perfect house all looking similar (a color of white or beige with green, red or blue shutters). Unlike the Italians the Swiss are quiet, multilingual, and sweet as can be. I didn’t hear a single car honk their horn. Little children played out in the street. Sometimes I would walk on a neighborhood street and not see a single person to be seen.

But the most astonishing thing of all was the train. The trains are soundless. In Italy the wheels screech against the tracks, people beg for money by playing accordions in the cars, and loud voices blare the next stop. In Switzerland I didn’t realize the car had even begun to move. The outside and inside were amazingly clean, lacking any sign of age. No one spoke in the cars and a soft German voice announced the next stop.

Besides the temple and the chocolate, what was my favorite part of Switzerland? My friend Jeffery said it perfectly, “I feel like royalty when I come to this country, because cars actually stop for me to cross the road!” Each time we prepared to cross the road my Italian friends would say, “Watch this!” or “We are going to do it again!”

I am killing myself trying to describe the country perfectly. You must feel, hear, and taste to truly understand. It was really a breath of fresh air just as I was beginning to go crazy with the Italian driving, post office, and ‘leave it for later’ mindsets.

But Switzerland gave me an appreciation for Italy. For the passion and life that exists here. For the love and generosity. For the courage. For the confidence. For the importance of friends and family. Switzerland may seem perfect. But when it comes to what really matters like family, joy, laughter, and pleasure, Italy’s got it down.

My Mug Obsession

I love to throw things away. Each time I had a hard week at school or just wanted to do a deep clean, I would go through everything I owned trying to find things I didn’t need any more. By the end of my purge I would typically have some items that needed to go to Goodwill. My Mom usually finds these things in the Goodwill pile and begs me to keep them or just resorts to hiding them from me. I am sure that one day I will get a huge box of things I tried to throw away.

When I lived in New Zealand I confronted this problem when it came to buying souvenirs. You know how people buy random little gadgets and then eventually throw them away or lose them? I didn’t want that. I looked hard and searched everywhere for a souvenir I would not toss in a year.

Kodie, my friend I was living with in New Zealand, bought me the cutest mug for my half birthday. (Isn’t she so nice?) It is green with sheep and hearts and kiwis…. I love that mug. It was the perfect souvenir because it was something I used and not a thingamajig that cluttered a shelf.

So, when I found myself in Mexico for Spring Break as a Sophomore I knew exactly what I would bring home. Since then I have collected two more mugs; one mug from Canada I just bought this summer and a mug from Washington DC that a dear friend, when learning about my obsession, bought me.

This tradition may become a little too much after I have over a dozen mismatched mugs in my home, but as for right now I am keeping it alive.

So drum roll please…..and here is my first mug from Europe:

I know he is a small little guy. But I spent two days walking around Bern trying to find him. He is the perfect image of Switzerland: confidently royal blue, small and unassuming, handcrafted in the country itself, and maybe a little bit boring. Stay tuned because in January after a Christmas in Germany I will have another mug to present.

What Matters Most

Last Monday night I was sleeping on a travel bus full of Italian Mormons on our way to Bern Switzerland. I had been looking forward to this trip for a long time. Everything was planned out perfectly. I would do temple work in the morning and each afternoon visit a different city in Switzerland; I even had a cities picked out.

After a LONG night (13 hours!) we arrived in Bern around 8am. I excitedly grabbed my little green carry on, put it in the lobby (the rooms were not ready), found an elderly missionary couple who wanted to join me, and headed to the center of Bern.

We had a delightful afternoon (details coming soon) but when we got back to the temple hostel I found myself rushing to be ready to enter the temple at 1:00. The next morning I slipped out of my door at 5:30 prepared to head off to another city. The train ticket, like everything else in Switzerland, was as expensive as ever, and I found myself rushing through the tour and worried about getting back in time.

That afternoon I thought about the real reason I was in Switzerland and contemplated on how to make the most of my short time in the temple. Lesson learned: preparing oneself to enter into the house of the Lord is vital. I was only in the temple for about 2 and a half hours each day, but the rest of my time was spent spiritually preparing myself. I won’t go into details or bear my testimony on this blog, but I will say it was a life changing experience. I had time to ponder, prepare, make fabulous friendships, pray, be with people who held my standards, read, laugh with wholesome young adults, and rejuvenate my spirit.

I learned what matters most in life. Traveling, experiencing, and tasting the world is great and teaches us so much. However, nothing can compensate for or teach us more than the temple, our scriptures, and holy pray. This week I focused on what really matters and I see a change in my life.