Lessons and (or on) Swiss Chocolate

I have been craving something sweet, like some type of fruit candy or a funfetti cupcake, or a cinnamon bun, because almost everything desert here is Swiss chocolate. But I still love my chocolate, and haven't been able to deny myself my daily dose! However, I have not been impressed with Swiss Hot Chocolate yet, as so far all I've been given is a mug of boiled milk with a side package of cocoa powder not even large enough to turn the milk very brown.

Today, I went to my Bilingualism class to find that in that specific lecture hall, there was no lecture on Bilingualism, but instead a small class of people doing Literary Analysis of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Pygmalion. So, I decided to stay. The prof was a very nice Irish lady who introduced herself as the head of the exchange students for the department, so there was no problem in my being part of the class. Luck has finally come to take pity on me!



I am taking a "cours du danse" here as well, just because. Yesterday evening, I discovered that Rock and Roll is very interesting hybrid of swing and jive. The instructor kept switching CDs between Elvis's 'Jailhouse Rock' and Soft Cell's 'Tainted Love,' which, of course, makes perfect sense. At least it's fun to hear dance lessons instructed in French. If I could, I would have all dance lessons across the world taught in French because the compliments sound so much nicer, and the criticisms are so threatening that you become completely petrified to find out what happens if you don't correct yourself immediately.

Well, I got all sorted with Olivier, so I know what legal stuff I have to do so I'm not thrown into a Swiss prison for not declaring myself with the Office for Citizen Control. However, somehow in my papers being lost, I was put into the Economics department, so now I must re-enroll with the Linguistics and French as a Foreign Language Departments. Mom told me to make lists of everything I have to do, but I already have papers stacked two feet high all over my desk, so I'm afraid that if I make lists, then I won't worry about remembering everything, then lose the papers, forget to go somewhere, and be thrown into a Swiss prison.

Just now, Gian was late for class, but still took time to make a full, balanced and well prepared traditional Swiss lunch of cooked carrots, boiled potatoes and lamb with sauce. Then he bolted for the door, because you cannot be late in Switzerland. But then he came running back in to tell me, "This morning, I sold 23 pairs of socks! Business is good!" Then he ran out again. This is a perfect example of my Swiss experience so far.

Sometimes I feel I've got to
Run away; I've got to
Get away
un, deux, trois et quatre, cinq et six.