A Mexican in Switzerland

Let's face facts. If life were fair, I would have been Mexican. If I were Mexican my life would have many aspects that it now lacks. If I were Mexican, I would know what it's like to be TAN! I wouldn't have to put SPF 10,000 on every time I go out under the sun. I wouldn't always have these super red cheeks. I could have long-brown-soft-thick-straight hair. People would actually be able to see my eyebrows without me having to paint them on (though, in regards to leg hair, it's been pretty nice to be this fair!). I'd speak Spanish fluently. My hips might be more appreciated. I'd probably be just a little shorter, which would be cool.....and maybe, just maybe I'd finally have that penchant for latin dancing that is missing in my blood. Plus, I could roll my Rs like Charro.

But why I REALLY think I should have been Mexican is because tortillas are what I dream about at night (even more regularly than Hugh Jackman). A good enchilada (and even a bad one) wins my heart over any boy. Rice and Beans are like Air and Water to me. I would eat this kind of food all day, every day, and then some. I would bathe in Sour Cream if I could. I would shower in Salsa. I would wash with Guacamole (these are not appetizing metaphors I'm using, so I'm gonna stop!)

PITY ALERT!!!

THERE IS NO MEXICAN FOOD IN SWITZERLAND. I have found ONE section of ONE store in ONE tiny town that has some SALSA. It's called, as you can see from the photo, "Chunky Salsa Dip"....um, did anyone ever think that salsa could sound unappealing? Yeah, me either...but there you have it. And let me tell you, it is NOT good. I don't know what it is made of exactly, just some stewed tomatoes or something? It's a tragedy really. AND IT COST ME 6 DOLLARS FOR A SMALL SMALL POT. If this country didn't have chocolate croissants I'd....And yeah, I have a feeling that my semi-annual trips home will be spend sleeping in the Cafe Rio parking lot....

The Yellow Orphan

Dear Readers...I've finally felt right about it. I've been silent to the outside world a lot...feeling safe in my little private blog, but it's time to take a few things global again...so many of my posts will be at my new blog address. Again, as a reminder, please don't put my real name or too many details about my life in the comment section as I'm keeping this one more about stories of humanity and my reflections.

I'll still put up my secret confessions right here on Abstraction...it's too hard to let her go.

But enjoy this story when you have the chance!!

The Yellow Orphan

Thanks Love...

Maybe I'm too much of a romantic. Right after I wrote my last post I received this little email from a cool website that sends you a happy thought once a day. It kind of made me rethink the last paragraph. Yeah, I've loved. It's true. Can't call it anything else in my mind. And I'm happier and maybe slightly wiser because of it.

Here's what it said...and I know it sounds funny, but it was nice to hear:

Thanks, D'Arcy, for every single time you ever fell in love.

Whether or not it was obvious. Whether or not it lasted. And whether or not you were loved back.

It changed everything.

Perhaps Love...

How do you know when you love romantically? Can you describe it? I'm curious as to your definition. Many songs describe it. Many poets too. If you asked fifty people, they'd all say something different. One person can feel it, another feels it differently. How do you know when you're in love?

Perhaps love is like a resting place, A shelter from the storm
Perhaps love is like a window, Perhaps an open door
Oh, Love to some is like a cloud
To some as strong as steel
For some a way of living
For some a way to feel
And some say love is holding on
And some say letting go
And some say love is everything
And some say they don't know
Perhaps love is like the ocean
Full of conflict, full of pain
Like a fire when it's cold outside
Thunder when it rains
And some say love is everything
Some say they don't know

These pictures are of two beautifully hand-carved silver scenes I bought in Salzburg this summer. I bought two. They each have a man and a woman working together. I imagined each couple in love and I planned, this past Christmas, to give one of them to my then Boyfriend...and I would keep one. And my sweet visions saw to a day in the future where they would hang on our joint Christmas tree in a home we created together. They would remind us that love takes work and kindness and togetherness and all those good things you know it takes to keep it growing. You have to plant it. You have to prune it. Just like these tiny couples that stand no taller than three inches.

Seems so super romantic of me, doesn't it? I have both of them still...though almost, almost I gave one to him, even when I knew we'd never share a tree.

I've hung them up above my desk here in Switzerland. They make me happy. But, honestly, they don't make me want marriage or a relationship of any kind.

I have such a different idea for my life than I did this past summer. The truth is, I'm glad I'm not married. I'm glad I'm not tied to anyone or anyplace. The truth is, if I had married any of my past boyfriends, I'd not be here. I'd not be now. I'd not have the amazing conversation or drive up the mountain that I had last night. I'd not be planning my plans and growing my growth.

Sure, I could be other places and I could be happy. I'm just sort of a happy person. But for now, right now, I'm really, really grateful that all turned out as it did. That's not to slight my past "loves". It's not to say they were lacking in any way for me. It's just to say that, maybe, just maybe, those past loves weren't REALLY love. Because I have a feeling that real love tends to stick a bit longer. Again, I could be wrong. I've come to the conclusion that I'm not quite so sure if I know what romantic love is (I got the family and friend part down), at least for me. I've also come to the conclusion that I won't toss that word around lightly to romantic partners either. Next time I say it, well, I'm pretty sure it's gonna be to the one that sticks.

Pretty Woman

You know that scene in Pretty Woman where Julia Roberts goes shopping on Rodeo Drive in her hooker outfit? She gets looks of disdain. She doesn't belong. It's pretty damn obvious. Yeah, I kind of feel like that when I go into my town. Not that I dress like a prostitute...more like a Gap ad. But, Gap, in a world that's taken straight out of Vogue magazine advertisements, is pretty close to slumville. Sometimes, I admit...when I'm walking down the streets of my village--I REALLY want a Prada bag. I actually recognize, now, the difference between Prada and Dior and Versace. It's true. I play the label game as I take my mountain walks...because believe it or not...people hike in Chanel here. HOWEVER, the other part of me swears I'll NEVER cave and give into something as silly as labels...even when I can afford it.

Here are a few things I think as I walk down the streets.

1. The dogs wear more expensive clothing than I do.

2. I'm the only one not in a fur coat and hat (even among the men)

3. I do not have a pair of Prada sunglasses

4. I now recognize all the Hermes and Burberry scarf designs for the new season

5. I don't have anything Louis Vitton

6. I don't look bored with life.

7. I weigh more than 90 pounds.

8. I have all of my original face.

The first few weeks, I went around thinking lofty thoughts of how much more grounded I was in life than the people of Crans-Montana. I'd say to myself, "You don't NEED labels to know you are of worth" and a thousand other things that could be cross-stitched on pillows around the world. Then, I calmed down a bit. I realized, that in my world, it's totally acceptable to shop at the Gap (as long as they really did close down that child sweat shop in India). It's fine. It fits my budget and no other middle class person would even bat an eye at shopping at the Gap. I had to face facts. This village is made up of old money. Very old money. For a woman to have a Prada bag that cost more than I make in a month is pretty much an equivalent of me buying a belt at the Gap. For some reason, that's helped me to stop feeling high and mighty. However, it hasn't helped the way they still look down their noses at the Old Navy coat I wear around. Boo.

Bonne Année

I had the most incredible New Year's Eve of my life. How did that happen? It was my first New Year's away from home since my mission. I was surrounded by people I've only known for about six months, I didn't have a lover to kiss at midnight....so just how was it so amazingly fantastic?

Perhaps it's this delightful feeling of hope and happiness. I've just embraced them on levels I've never reached before. I think the last few months in Utah I felt so confused and stagnant because I knew my life there was going to end in December, but I wasn't sure how everyone was going to fit into the picture. Do I make new friends? Do I try to date? Do I do this or this or do I just wait until my new life? I've been in limbo since my birthday when I decided to move here. Now that that is over, now that I'm here and present and aware of each day's choices and options...there's been a smile on my face that I just can't wipe away if I wanted to.

The company has been pretty magical too. Over a beautiful dinner of salmon pâté (see how I'm getting down the accents!), foie gras, pink champagne, beautiful salads and plump almonds....I sat with three couples who have somehow figured it out. They've somehow figured out objectivity, unconditional love, the balance of selflessness and selfishness needed....they told us all their stories of meeting and living and working through and getting to these places of amazingness. It warmed my heart and brimmed my eyes with tears (I'm such a softy lately!).

The past couple of months I've been wondering if I'm any good at those man/woman relationships because none of mine seem to stick. I've been contemplating a lot if I really even want them to. Part of me, honestly, doesn't...at least not in hind sight...at least not if it meant me not being where I am right now. Getting out of the pressure of Utah has helped. Even though I haven't been active in the LDS church, I still have a lot of brain wiring about love and marriage from a long time back. I'm starting to reconsider. I'm starting to wonder if I really even want marriage as I see this amazing career looming ahead of me. Or maybe I just need to take a break until I'm 35 and look into it again. I've decided, in the long run, not to worry about it. It sounds weird, but it's true. Somehow I work daily on letting all that go. It really is too much of an obsession/moneymaking market for girls across the world. The soulmate, the perfect wedding, the baby showers....all things I was told to want since birth...all things I've been looking at with different eyes. I'm likin' what these eyes are seeing.

And I'm LOVING the possibilities of 2010. An incredible year of working and writing and loving and learning and LIVING!

And it all started in a sweet little Swiss village--celebrating with thousands of people on a magical mountain looking down into an exploding valley of fire.