After a lo-ong few weeks, we are back in the US o'A. We've had a pleasantly surreal few days here in Seattle, in our own country but feeling as foreign as could be. We seem to require a brief retraining on the basics of American culture. The things which bothered us in CH somehow became normal. Now, for instance, I must remind myself that eye contact is not creepy.

The niceness of the US, Seattle in particular, must be overwhelming for complete newcomers. Why would the guy giving my sandwich tell me to "take care" in such a nice way? Why! And the constant smiling! Where do they come up with all the extra energy for this? It may be a sign of idiocy in some cultures, but to me it represents a kind of openness and care I never really noticed in my own people before. I am enjoying this generous perspective at the moment – beatific, really.

Though Swiss Ms. has plenty of other observations about Seattle, she's not sure whether she will continue public broadcast of them in the future. There's a time when enough is enough and one commentator more may be one commentator too many. (Also, it's hard to be a luddite and a blogger at the same time.) But she thanks you kindly for your attention and interest over the past few years and wishes you well in your own endeavors at home, abroad, or hovering interstitially in the blogosphere. Also, she heartily suggests, should any opportunity to escape your daily grind for a season or so arise, that you take it. A bit of early retirement is good for the soul, completely worth paying for later.

PR**TO

My memory, as I may have told you, may have told you repeatedly, in fact, is a bit fickle. It often works really well (allowing me to correctly answer trivia questions about Joe Namath and RNA transcription). But shine the spotlight on it and it's just as often likely to belch out the wrong answer. I have born false witness to the questions "How old are you?" "How long have you been married?" "What neighborhood do you live in?" and "Who told you that?" repeatedly because of this no-good, double-crossing memory of mine. Additionally, words of approximately the same length and/or consonant:vowel ratio (Fullerton and Lawrence, for example), names of people who have the same build or facial hair, and names starting with the same letter (a la those alliterative Bev, Bill, Brian, Barbara, & Brady families) become very confused in my head. This is why I frequently look and/or am lost.

All this to say, it was no surprise that pronto and presto have given me trouble from the moment I stepped foot in this Italian-speaking land. It was hard indeed to start answering the phone "pronto!" Not only is this a weird greeting (pronto means "ready"), I am also usually struck by the very strong urge to say "presto!" ("soon") instead. 

So wait. Are you also having trouble wrapping your mind around these usages? Check your passport, I bet you're American. Check out this illustrative snacking scenario:

American version: Bring that salt over here pronto! Put it on your tomato and – presto! – a tasty snack!

Italian version (in English): Is that tasty tomato snack pronto yet? I have to leave presto.

You see? It is not me, it is the weird English language which has begged, borrowed, and stolen itself.  Presto was first borrowed into the English language by magicians whose tricks happened "right away" and has become the rough equivalent of "ta-dah!"  Pronto comes to the English from the Italian/Spanish definition of pronto which also means "right away."  So it is not just my memory but the entire English language conspiring against me. [End personal validation supported by amateur linguistics]

On the circumstances of said ticket....

When you are buying antiques, it's always very useful to learn the provenance of the piece you would like to purchase. So, while you are guessing on yesterday's tragic item, I am happy to oblige you its details.

The speeding ticket was admittedly well-deserved (in case we were not already thinking this, the letter accompanying the ticket delicately informed us of the existence of photographic proof to the contrary) but I feel the need to share the tragedy that had already befallen us this day. The police, I know, are not interested in explanations or apologies – how much do I still regret the "I'm sorry" that escaped from my mouth after a paternalistic tongue-lashing from a spiteful Evanston police officer convinced that my confused crosswalk violation revealed a latent desire to murder schoolchildren  – but friends (and antiquers) are much better at mercy and understanding than are self-important, authoritarian sadists. So I share the story with you.

About 1.5 hours out of Lugano toward Munich we faced a painful decision – continue on without passports or go home to get them and add an extra three hours to our trip. (Why on earth we would attempt a six hour driving trip in Europe without passports is another question I prefer not to think on.) After five minutes of slow and stilted driving, we came to terms with our stupidity and turned around. 

Is there anything worse than driving the same route three times in one afternoon? Is there anything more nauseating than eating chips and Carpe Diem carbonated medicinal tea drink all day?  Is there anything less conducive to driving the speed limit?

On the other hand, is there anything more satisfying than a pretzel, cheese, and a beer right before the beer garden closes? We made it to Munich in relatively good time; now we know why.

Successfully introducing American food products to Europe: Six universally applicable tipps

1. Find a popular American product that is only somewhat processed and could be construed as natural. (If they happen to be chips, be sure to make them at least 25% smaller, since they will be eaten after dinner.)

                 

2. Add paprika.

3. Create a brand name out of some English words (add an apostrophe, warranted or not) and put it in a really original logo (avoiding carefully the use of mustaches or other facial hair which, American or not, is unappealing).

4. Design a distinctive package for your product.

5. Add two layers of extra packaging (to make it seem American). 

6. For maximum sales, include "Bio," "Nature," "Energy," and/or "Sport" on the label. 

Either way, it's okay.

A nice melodious reminder for us all.

Learn as you go

A favorite purchase this week:

Fashion no-no

My pudding's cooked!

It seemed like a risk to use UHT milk for the banana pudding I made yesterday. While I don't have the shelf complex that other Americans do, I just could never adjust to its taste. (And believe me, I forced down many a glass while living in Spain.) Don't they always say never to cook with a wine you wouldn't drink? I know someone influential said that because I feel guilty every time I buy cheap wine for cooking. Anyway, I felt brave as I poured out two cups into the mixing bowl, no tasting.

Now, UHT milk ("shelf milk") has a lot of things going for it. It is cheap, long-lasting, and packaged in Tetra Pak (thereby both stackable and absurdly appealing to me). I had been eyeing it on the shelf there, wishing I didn't think it tasted so weird, for a long time. In the end, it was the good old dollar that worked its magic on my hard heart and convinced me to give it another try.

The moment of truth came even before the pudding was cooked, as there was just enough leftover milk left for a taste. And – I am trying desperately to think of a way to make this more dramatic but am coming up empty – it tasted good. I liked it. Whether it was the result of maturing tastebuds or advanced processing or the Swiss milk or simple necessity I suppose I will never know. What I do know is that milk now costs less than gas.

So the lesson (since I can't seem to help forming a formal conclusion for you) is: eat some things you don't like every once in a while and you might be pleasantly surprised.

Lezioni en route

1.  When traveling, the best order for things is: listen + translate + think + get on train.  Any other sequence may become problematic. 
2.  Your instincts probably work just fine when you are traveling, so don't stifle them.
3.  Though for many reasons it may seem like it, the word soppresso does not mean "surprise," but "cancelled."
4.  Monza, Italy has a very nice döner shop.
5.  Although you may at first feel a bit naked and pointless sans camera, you will adjust and eventually come to enjoy the freedom of not having to figure out the best angle for that statue or if the sun will make you squint and look like a chipmunk or whether it is even possible for you to photographically capture the essence of a place anyway. 
6.  Having no seat assignments on a plane is annoying, but worth the inconvenience just to see grown adults running across the tarmac in a frenzy.
7.  Honey counts as a liquid. 
8.  A winter high of 60 F/16 C is not that warm.
9.  If you repeatedly think there is something funky about the scale of your map, stop using it.
10. 1 LED flashlight + 3 pairs of striped socks + free parking space = 10€ well spent.