[tu peux]

What determines a good au pair?

Is it better to keep the kid happy at you all the time, or more so be firm and work on creating a independent, capable child.

Lately, a phrase I find myself saying often is, "tu peux" or "tu peux faire."

It literally means: You can.

The kiddo has been asking me to help her with many tasks lately. It's not that I'm not willing to help her, I enjoy helping out. It's not to make my life easier. In fact, it would often be so much easier and quicker if I did do it for her. But, I want her to do it herself. So she'll ask me to do something for her and I'll say, "No, you can do it," if she glares at me I'll tell her, "you're 7."

Here are a few instances in which my help has been requested. This is not speaking of her character or capabilities, she's a great kid and very capable, she just asks for help a lot and glares at me when I say no.

• Can I tie her shoe?
• Can I zip up her jacket? (I tend to help with this one)
• Can I buckle her helmet? (again, it can be difficult)
• Can I spread the soft cheese on her bread?

Today we went to English with the bikes. As we went to park them she handed me the lock to the bike so I could lock it. I looked at her and told her I knew she could do it. She said that, no, she couldn't do it. I said she could and I would help her through it. Sure enough, she was able to do it. She wasn't very happy with me, though. I could see it was a bit frustrating at times, for her, as she tried to figure the lock out, but she got it. A lot of things aren't easy without practice, it all comes in time. But if I don't have her start the practice now, she'll never reach the point where it's an easy task that comes naturally.

If anyone knows a better way to say, "You can do it," in French, I'd love to learn.

I think this may have partially come from my upbringing. My parents raised me pretty independently, I think. I wasn't all that old before they started telling me that if I wanted something I could walk, bike, or bus to get it. I wanted eggs to bake with that moment? Well, the store was just 20 minutes away. That's what they would tell me. At the age of 16 they allowed me to go off and explore Switzerland for a year on my own. They used to give me a budget so that, while I still had their financial support, I could learn to manage my money. So now, as I help to raise and take care of a kid, I find myself wanting to encourage them to do things themselves.

Am I simply being cruel?

[coming home]

"Maggie, I heard you're heading back to America early..."

What? You did? Sigh, get's it's time for me to tell the world.

It is true, the end of my second Swiss adventure is coming to a sorrowful end after a short three months here.

When am I coming home? I will be arriving on Thanksgiving day at around 3:00 PM. Just in time for the pumpkin pie, or maybe even turkey if my family is gracious enough. I maybe exhausted, though, after 18 hours of traveling.

That's just about a week till I come home.

That's just about a week till I have to leave home.

Why am I coming home?

It all comes down to small legalities... and the fact I would be an illegal alien if I stayed more than three months here.

The host family knew this, but I was naive or unaware that I would not be able to get a visa to work here. They are wonderful and gracious, but also encouraged me to stay without a visa. I, however, am not comfortable with this. The Swiss government has been getting more active with their border patrol and I don't want to mess with it. Getting caught could me affecting me coming back to Europe and at such a young age, I don't want to close ay doors.

After a lot of research, prayer, and conversations, I decided I would rather go home early, to be legal, than stay. I told the family about a month ago. I feel so blessed as they have been so gracious and accomidating to me. They don't treat me any differently, even though I am leaving them, which is a new stress in their life.

I will write on my feelings about returning to America tomorrow.

So yes, I am coming home after 3 months, not a year. Yes, it is just because of legal issues.

Guess I'll see you in just a bit, then...

[marche]

I find it interesting, odd, and refreshing how people just walk in and out of our lives.

Take the people in this picture, for example. I have spent 4 hours a week since September with them on the ever so wearisome journey of learning French.

We laughed together, developed something of a friendship.

And now, for me at least, it's over.

I know I won't see the majority, if any of them, again.

You go to a bar at night and you can find someone, become acquaintances for the evening, but after then, nothing. You could chat for an hour and that is their existance in your life. Nothing more is needed or meant to be. Simply people walking in and out of each others lives.

I like that.

One of the things I find frustrating is that Facebook defies this. People are supposed to leave your life. After high school, sometimes, loosing contact with someone is ok and healthy, yet through Facebook we maintain contact and shallow forms of relationships. It is ok to say good bye after meeting for one afternoon, you don't need to forever know what the other is doing.

Anyways, just found that a good thought to think about.
People stroll in and our of our lives.
They give us a memory to go by, and that is more than enough.

[presque]

"Elle est presque morte."

Those were the words I heard from Alex today as we walked to pick up Oleann.

It is polite to greet people and during our stroll, we came upon an elderly woman checking her mail. Alex and I exchanged multiple greetings with her from "salut" to "bonjour" to "hallo".

We had only walked a few steps away from her when he told me, "Maggie, elle est presque morte," which literally means, "She's almost dead."

Oh goodness...

[shoot]

"Shoot!"
"But I wanna pass!"
"Shoot!"

These were words I never heard in America, well, the word "shoot" directed towards me.

Last night I perhaps had one of my favourite nights in Switzerland.

I've grown accustomed to joining groups in which I know no one. In this case, I knew one member of the badminton club, but I couldn't count on him to show up. I was off playing for 2 months due to my ankle but after it was healed, I jumped back in. All I have to do is show up and ask to play, I don't care who with.

I ended up playing with three guys for most of the time. There weren't any girls this evening, which I found odd. Just 7 guys and I. No no no, that's not why I enjoyed the evening so much. I do admit it was really refreshing to finally be in the company of people my own age. As an au pair, it's harder to get mixed in with the Swiss. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights are my chance to do that.

Anyways, this is something I wish we had in America. A place in the evening where you can just go and play a sport, nothing official. It's just pure fun.

"Aller!"

Ok, ok, I'm going.

I'm glad I'm not horrible at badminton. Am I good? Not the best. But can I hit it back and sometimes make the other guy miss? Yep.

After a while they asked if I wanted to play "basket."
Basketball? Sure... even if I haven't played it for some 3 months.
It's ok if I'm horrible, let's play.

And so, the game of 2 on 2 began. I was on Tobia's team and surprised the first time he passed to me. Dang. I must have looked so surprised, or horribly unathletic... I think it was a mixture of both.

Here's the thing. In America, I never got the ball. There were so many kids in PE class. It is horrible but at an early age in life, I was taught by my bigger, more athletic peers that if I ever, ever got the ball, I should pass it to one of them immediately.

So, here I am in Switzerland and I am being passed the ball.
Goodness, that is something new.
And my instinct is to simply pass it back.

A bit later, two more guys joined us.
Three on three.

A favourite phrase of the night was, "Shoot!"
It was some sort of cruel humour, but when we started out, Tobias would pass me the ball immediately, since I was open, and tell me to just shoot.

So I would shoot. Sometimes I would miss it but sometimes I made it! And that made me quite the happy girl. For once, I was given the chance to play. I was incorporated into the team.

They would sometimes give me a hard time for missing, but not in a cruel way. Just a way that made me feel like I wasn't just being treated like a guest. I know I'm the out one here. I'm American. I'm a girl. But I got to play and that made my day.

We simply played basketball, and I liked that.

Monday nights are good nights.

[holland]

Two questions I get often:

1. Kommst du aus Holland?
2. Do you like boys?

I am going to be focusing on question number one today.

Komme ich aus Holland?
"Do you come from Holland?"

I get asked that whenever I speak German with someone who doesn't know me.

Last night on the train, once again, surrounded by the military. After a while, Mossdorf asks me, in German, "Where do you come from?" I responded, asking, "Where do you think?"

"Why," he said, "you come from Holland, right?"

No. No I don't.

I am actually quite pleased everyone thinks that. See, I do have an accent when I speak my German, it's almost inevitable. But, my accent is not from America. I rarely have people guess that I come from the USA. I have a Dutch accent when I speak German.

I have a Dutch accent when I speak German.

Since I originally, back in 2006, only wanted to go the the Netherlands, this suits me even more.

I guess I would rather they thought I was from there than the United States. I am glad they can't pin down where I'm from because I speak the language with a strong accent.

Here are some other encounters I remember when people asked if I was from Holland:

• the guy who helped set me up for the shooting contest in Obwalden
• the man who served me pizza
• the random drunken kids at the Sarnen train station
• my friend's friend at that one meeting I was at
• multiple military encounters
• my friend's host parents

And the list goes on.

I am Margaret and I am from the United States of America.

[jamie]

In Switzerland there is a major city called Zürich.

20 minutes from the main station is a small station called Schörlistrasse.

3 minutes from Schörlistrasse is a small appartment complex.

On the second floor of the complex is a near empty appartment.

In that appartment is a well lit kitchen with onions on the wall.

In that kitchen is a delightful, joyful, dancing girl.

In the hands of that delightful, joyful, dancing girl is a brand new Jamie Cullum album.

I've been waiting for quite some time for Jamie to put out something new and finally it is here.

I rarely purchase actual CD's, but in this case, I felt the desire to (plus, it wasn't on iTunes yet). It came out today in Switzerland, or perhaps yesterday. It comes out March 2, 2010 in the United States.

I went to Ex Libris and immediately found the new album.

No dissapointment in this purchase.

54 minutes.