24.08.09: Monday

(Written the night after my first day of work at the La Terrace Restaurant.)

It’s raining outside, the droplets quietly reminding me that summer is coming to a close (thankfully). It was a splendid summer in retirement, but as all things must end one way or another, my time to move onto something different came rather quickly. Today was my first official day of work. My feet hurt, my back hurts, my mind hurts from thinking in English and French while trying to get the hang of this new job. Everything aches just slightly. But I finished it. And even though I can’t quite believe it myself, I actually had fun near the end--not really when I was working, but at least with the people I work with. And then, after the darkness fell and fewer tables remained caked with food and glasses and people, it started to rain. Hard. And sporadic lightening lit up the French Alps across the lake, like a framed black and white Ansel Adams photograph. It was a much needed reminder of where I am, what I’m doing, and how happy I am to be here, despite my exhausted body and confused brain. It feels good to be learning something new, even though sometimes I want to kill some of the people I serve, though I am quite good at masking any aggression I feel by putting an obviously foreign smile on my face.

And then there’s the whole language thing. Trying to speak French with Parisian waiters. It’s hilarious when I think about it. I stand there, harnessing and focusing every bone in my body just to understand them, their critiques, their directions, and as soon as I nod my head thinking that I understood, one tiny and fairly significant piece of information either gets lost in translation or in my head. But, by the end of the evening, I had a better grasp on most things and on receiving directions from my boss Steve. Not sure how old he is, but he’s professional and the fact that he’s so patient with me makes him a saint. Then there’s Nicolas, your typical Parisian: tall, skinny, speaks with very aggressive “r”s (those of you who know a Parisian accent will understand this), and not a smile on him... at least the first day. I don’t think he cracked once, at least that I saw. Then there’s Lea, also from Paris, but much more approachable, though not initially. The fact that she’s leaving at the end of the week, makes me less interested in her personality as bad as that sounds. She’s kind though and is a very good worker as is most everyone I saw today. And finally, my favorite, Ali. I may not tell Ali this right away, but he is the closest thing I have to a friend here. He’s has the kindest smile of anyone I’ve met or seen thus far in Switzerland. Pehaps his not being Swiss or French or German has something to do with it. He is Moroccan, from Casablanca, and has the sweetest eyes and remarkable English, which I am SO thankful for. Within the first thirty minutes of meeting him, he was asking me genuine questions about myself in effortless English, which I was so very grateful for since the French-thing is proving to be difficult indeed. While he was showing me some random odds and ends, he asked me what I think of Islam. I was not per se shocked by the question because I found it to be a good one, but I suppose I was slightly caught off guard. We chatted a bit about it and I asked what he thought of most Americans. We both decided that we should continue the conversation later in the one of our rooms after work (I chickened out tonight since I’m just too tired to think and socialize like a normal human being, but I told him another night, definitely). Of all the people I met today, I’m relieved that Ali is the one who will be staying, at least for a while longer than the others. He seems to be a great person to chat with--in English--and I’m sure I could learn a lot from him. And the fact that he’s only ninetten makes him cuter with a slightly boyish quality.

Finally, at the end of a long day, I’m happy I made it through, mostly unscarred. And with the possibility of a friend. That’s more than I started with this morning! And I have to say, I definitely saw some interesting things... a woman wearing a diamond necklace that was shaped like a tie (bizarre, I know), a VERY American couple who took great interest in me and actually gave me their unredeemed swiss lottery tickets (they won thirteen francs but didn’t have the time to cash it!), a man who chewed each bite he took about forty times before swallowing (no joke), and plenty of other Germans, English, Swiss, French, and Portugeuse that I cannot distinguish very well at the moment. They all sort of blend together into one long ten hour day. I’ve never worked that much in one day in my life.

After my incredibly hectic summer (weighed heavy on the sarcasm here), this job is going to take some getting used to. But hey, one day down! And tomorrow, who knows!