People all get ready

It's a shame that Glen Hansard is not a household name by now.
But it's an even bigger shame that music has become "fashion". The mass is unbelievably dumb. So much shitty music out there forced down our throath, yet music as pure and beautiful as this is unseen. :-( What a sad world...

Greetings from Saint City! :-)

Ryan Bingham ~ The Weary Kind

GOOD OLD (IRISH) TIMES

It's been almost 5 months now.

I boarded the Aer Lingus flight from Dublin to Zurich on september 30th and left the Emerald Isle for good. I haven't gone back since.

I was barely 20 years old when I took on a job at 'Hertz' in Swords, Co. Dublin and had just turned 22 when I quit to go back to Switzerland.

I had already spent a half a year in Ireland from january until july 2006 when I was the Au Pair of a lovely Irish family from Ratoath, Co. Meath. So altogether I spent 2 years and 8 months in Ireland and therewith most of my time as an adult.

It's funny how we only start to truly appreciate things when we don't have them anymore.

I think back to my time in Ireland a lot. Every night before I fall asleep. Well okay, not the nights I return home late and completely drunk. The only thing I worry about then is how to find my bed and whether we have some Aspirin in the house wich I can take in the morning to make my head feel a bit lighter... ;o)

There are so many things I'm missing. Too many to remember all of them right now.

Simple things like talking in English. Or having drunken conversations with crazy Irishmen! :-D Or let's take the Cineworld on Parnell Street as an example. I've always enjoyed getting up early on days off to take the bus into town (-->Dublin) and watch a movie (or two) at 10 a.m. The other seats were mostly unoccupied so I could watch the film in peace. And I miss the bakery section at Marks & Spencer on Henry Street. I still have that particular yummy taste of their cookies and muffins in my mouth. Totally different from the slightly nasty odour I could smell every time I passed by St. James's Gate at the Guinness Brewery. But I didn't mind it at all.

I miss the Premier Division football games in Inchicore (St. Patrick's Athletic) and Tallaght (Shamrock Rovers). Surely Ireland has more ecxiting events to offer than a football match between two average Irish teams. Yet I've always enjoyed being part of their fan crowds.

Many times have I walked from O'Connell Street to Sandymount, where I strolled along the beach and looked at one of Dublin's landmarks: The famous Poolbeg Chimneys. I always made a stop at the construction site of the 'Aviva Stadium'. It will open in august this year; on the exact same spot where the old 'Lansdowne Road' used to be. The Aviva Stadium will mostly be used for games of the national football team (which unfortunately won't take part at the Worldcup in South Africa this summer -- thanks to the cheating French basterd Thierry "Thievery" Henry). With its capacity of approx. 55'000 people it will be much smaller than 'Croke Park' (approx. 85'000). Croke Park is the official stadium of the GAA; that's the Gaelic Athletic Association which includes the traditional Irish sports of Hurling, Camogie, Gaelic football and others. I sometimes watched the construction workers doing their job for up to an hour and didn't get bored. It's great to see how something giant is built by human beings. Aviva Stadium will look awesome when it's finished.

I miss the summer night concerts in Phoenix Park or on the grounds of Malahide Castle. Or the nights out at the Old Boro in Swords and the tasty pints there. The many times we danced the night away at Wright's afterwards until the lights went on and we got thrown out by the staff at 3 or 4 in the morning.

I miss the evenings when I went delivering Pizza with my first housemate Adeel, who used to work for DOMINO'S back then. We sat in his old and tiny red Nissan Micra, "cruised" through Swords and surroundings whilst listening to 'Rammstein' or other bands whose music was suitable for (slow) headbanging! :-D

And the time I spent with my latest housemate Carolin from Hamburg. Sunny days were spent on the beaches of County Dublin's coastline. We ate ice cream, chatted for hours and read books. Rainy days were spent in town with shopping, going for a delicious lunch and watching a movie at one of the many cinemas.

I think of all the lovely and extremely funny Irish people I got to know. Those wich had so many stories to tell. The guys with their cute accents... I could have listened to them talking forever! ;o)

Last but not least I have to admit that I even enjoyed the weekends when I had to got to work. The building was quiet and almost empty. No queues on the toilets for a change. The few of us who were there had so much fun! Sitting at our desks in track suits or other very, very casual clothes did we often decide to order food from a local Take Away. Preferably the biiiiiiig 'Wagon Wheel Pizza' from Mizzoni's; cut into 8 huge slices. The men from security down at the entrance/reception had such a laugh every time I passed them by to meet the delivery guy and get the food. Because when I held the Wagon Wheel in my hands I didn't fit through the door anymore, so that the security guys had to let me back in through a "special" entrance.... :-D

I went for dinner with a good friend lately and she asked me a couple of questions about my life in Ireland. She doesn't understand what if feels like to be in love with a place you've left behind. She said: "I'm just back from holidays in Thailand. I had such a great time and wish I could have stayed a little longer. Everything seemed so easy down there. I hate being back to everyday life. But hey, I'll get over it. And so will you!" What's wrong with her?!? She compared a 2-week beach holiday in a 5***** all-inclusive hotel with living abroad for over two years. I worked in Ireland. Made a living there. Learnt to speak English. Went to the pub 3 times a week. Swam in the Irish sea and walked along the beautiful beaches of Malahide and Portmarnock which I could reach by foot in a couple of minutes after stepping out of my apartment. I had Irish neighbours. Went grocery shopping. Adapted an Irish accent. I voted in general elections. Wore the Irish flag with pride. I was part of the society. And definitely not on a holiday!! I will never get over it. Ireland is too precious. And I hope the memories will last forever, and ever, and ever.....

I appreciate you asking but no thanks, I don't need a lift!

The city closest to the village I live in is St. Gallen. It takes you approx. 15 minutes by car to get into the centre, depending on the traffic. Same goes for the bus.

I'm one of those people that don't have a car. In fact, I don't even hold a driving license.

No problem at all, because as I mentioned before there's a bus into town every half an hour on working days.

I for my part prefer to walk. It takes my legs 1 1/2 hours to get into town or from town back home, depending on how quickly they move.

I love walking. And hiking. For me it signifies freedom. As I walk I can let my thoughts flow whilst listening to my favourite songs on the iPod. In this day and age walking is like an escape from the many dull hours we spend in a stuffy office starring into a computer.

I can feel the wind, take in a breath of fresh air. My gaze wanders over the familiar landscape and even though I've walked the same path hundreds of times, I notice something new every day.

All of this sounds very peaceful. But I can assure you that even a stroll can be a pain in the ass. Actually, I can't even walk 50m without getting interrupted by the driver of some stinky car. They slow down as they reach me, open the window, look up to me and ask: "Do you want a lift?"

I've stopped counting how many times I've heard that question. I can only remember to have accepted the offer once. My older sister was passing me by on her way home from work and she stopped, because she got the impression that I walked a bit funny. She was right. I was wearing brand-new Gabor sneakers and new shoes always lead to blisters in my case. Walking was a torture that night so I got into her car and only realized back home that I had a bloody heel and that my little toe was swollen and nearly had become the size of my thumb (well, almost).

Anyway, back to the drivers that don't seem to have better things to do than giving poor old Felicitas a lift. They are so wrecking my head! Mostly it's people I know. But sometimes it's strangers that have only moved to my village recently and whom I've never met before. So I do my best to sound friendly when I duck down to be at eye level with my 'friend in need' and say "Oh thanks, that's very kind of you. But I prefer to walk tonight. Maybe next time!". But what I actually want to say is: "Get moving, you lazy bum and leave me alone!" I mean, what has God given me feet for?!? People then hesitate for another moment: "Are you sure? It's a long way and it will get dark soon...". But before they've even finished their sentence I say "Bye now. It was nice to meet you!", turn away and keep walking. People then finally drive on and when passing me by they smile at me and wave or some of them love to honk the horn.

So now I'm wondering; why do people I barely know suddenly care about me? Do they really want to do me a favour? Or are they just lonely and want someone to talk to? In a man's case I sometimes get the impression he wants to bluff with his car and show off his driving skills. You're not Michael Schumacher, for christ's sake!!

I have yet to find an explanation for this odd behaviour. But I've decided to get myself a jacket or jumper with bright letters that say: "DRIVE THE FU*CK ON!"

Football

I always loved being in football stadiums. No matter what team played. It's about the great atmosphere. You don't get that anywhere else. In a football stadium I feel strong and comfortable. A beer in one hand, greeting familiar faces with the other. Clapping and shouting as if my parents had never taught me any good behaviour at all. In football stadiums I feel at home. To me they are like my old sofa where I can put my feet up and relax.

And then there is the FCSG (FC St. Gallen). Only a few years ago I would have rather burnt in hell than missing a match of my most beloved football team. When I used to work in Ireland I even flew from Dublin to Switzerland just to see the FCSG lads play. Back here I'm living barely 15km away from the stadium. And yet I decided not to spend yesterday afternoon in there. I was afraid I'd miss out on a delicious dinner. I had never hoped for that day to come so soon.....but it was suddenly here: I prefered food to a football match!

I mean, how sad is that?

I wish I could name the feeling that had overcome me yesterday. It was some kind of a total laziness... Or sluggishness. A friend of mine suggested to take me to a mental institution until I would be given the all-clear. ;o) But there was no need for that.

When I woke up this morning, it was here again. The urge, the inner desire to pilgrim to the stadium. And I realized I can't wait for saturday when the FC St. Gallen is playing against the FC Zurich. FUSSBALL ÜBER ALLES! :-))

Feli withouth football would never work! And thank God for that :-)

Hello spring! :-)

Bye-bye winter!

Irish Car Bomb

My favourite beer cocktail! It's very delicious. :-)

An Irish Car Bomb is actually very easy to do: You need Guinness Stout, Baileys Cream and Irish Whiskey.
First you make a pint glass half full (or less - depending on how much alcohol you can drink at one swallow) with Guinness. Let the stout settle for a little while. Then you take a shot glass and fill it half with Irish whiskey (preferably Jameson). Now you need to float the Baileys on top.
You normally drink an Irish Car Bomb in a group wich basically means that everyone has to let their bombs "explode" at the same time. So you lift up the shot glass and drop it into the glass with the Guinness. As soon as you've done that you have to drink the mixture IMMEDIATELY (in one gulp!), because it will curdle otherwise and taste very nasty.

Slàinte!

Urban Dictionary

http://www.urbandictionary.com/

Have you ever visited the 'Urban Dictionary'?
It's fun to look up the urban meaning of your name! :-))

So let's see what a "mad cracker" really is:
- british slang for someone who is insane
- insane person, psychotic
- mad racist white man
Hehe, good to know! ;o)

And here are a few hilarious descriptions about my home country Switzerland:
- A country in central Europe with beautiful mountains known as the Alps. Every citizen has an assault rifle, would be a very tough country to invade. Don't mess with the masters of chocolate!
- Not so helpful in the war; but nice chocolate. "So what part did Switzerland play in the WW2" - "Shut up and eat your Toblerone!"
- The act of being neutral or non-committed on a subject, usual a controversial one. "Hey, whaddya think about those Red Sox finally winning the World Series? - "Listen, I don't wanna get into it, man. I'm SWITZERLAND on this one."
- Piggy bank of the world.
- A country of yodelling mountain goat herders and hot blondes named Heidi. (:-D)
- Switzerland is a country in Europe; but Switzerland ISN'T Sweden! And Swiss is not the same as Swedish! Get it? American: "Where are you from?" - Swiss tourist: "I'm from Switzerland." - American: "Oh nice, I like the Swedish girls!"

Erin go Bragh!

Raclette Pizza

Most families, couples and singles in Switzerland have an electric table-top grill with small pans at home. It's a modern way of serving the famous dish "Raclette".
But you can actually use this Raclette grill for making tiny little Pizzas! :-) We only use homemade pizza dough in our house; same goes for the tomato sauce. Everybody can choose their individual toppings. I prefer a simple Pizza Margarita. So I pour a little olive oil into the Raclette pan to make it greasy. I then take a bit of the pizza dough and press it flat into the Raclette pan. Tomato sauce, Mozzarella cheese and some Oregano is all I put on top. Such a tiny pizza takes approx. 15 minutes until it is ready to eat. But it depends on how thick the base is. For a real crispy base you should put the Pizza on top of the grill before enjoying it.

Bon appétit! :-)

~beautiful memories~

Coldplay performing "Lovers in Japan" live at Phoenix Park in Dublin on september 14th, 2009

Dream Job

So the other night before falling asleep I decided to say a little prayer. I had just applied for a great job and thought it could be helpful to make up an own prayer instead of saying the "Our father wich art in Heaven" (Vater Unser) as I usually do it every night in bed.

"Dear God,

I've just applied for my dream job.

I promise that if you make me getting that job, I will never complain again.

I will completely stop being evil and mean.

I won't spit my chewing gums out and onto the streets of our city anymore.

I will help and support the poor in this world. And I will forever fight against crime and for justice.

I'd do anything to get that job, believe me!

Except for...ehm.....joining the Swiss Socialist Party. That would be too much 'goodwill'.

I'd rather sleep under a bridge for the rest of my life...or marry Christoph Blocher.

AMEN."

So you see, it came out a bit silly... :-/ I guess that in the future I will just stick to the "Our father wich art in heaven" and hope that God will hear me one day before I've grown old (and grey!). ;o)

(PS: I only realized afterwards: Ehrm Feli, with what money are you going to support the poor in this world, please?!")

Snowboarding

Crisp mountain air

Breathing into my face

Refreshing, regenerating

Renewing, reviving

Sitting at the top of the world

On soft, white powder

Admiring at the beauty

The magnificent mountain peaks

Anticipation now building inside myself

Preparing for what is soon to come

Breathing in, breathing out

Smiling at the excitement soon to come

Rising to my feet, standing on my board

Carving into the side of the mountain

Revitalizing breeze hitting into me

As I make my way down the hill

Der Sinn des Lebens

Eine Nacht an der Costa Calma


Ich spazierte zum Strand hinunter. Es war nach Mitternacht. Ich liess mich nahe des Ufers in den Sand sinken. Vom Meer sah man in der Dunkelheit nichts; man hörte nur sein Rauschen. Ob mir leuchteten Mond und Sterne heller, als ich es je zuvor gesehen hatte. Ich begann mich zu fragen, wie ich ohne all das leben soll. Ich meine dieses unbeschreibliche Gefühl, welches einen überkommt, wenn man am Meer ist. Einfach regungslos verweilt, zufrieden mit sich selbst, jegliche Sorgen und Ängste vergisst, die Gedanken einfach kreisen lässt. Und wie sehr mir doch das Baden im Atlantik fehlen würde. Das Gefühl von Einsamkeit und doch vollkommener Geborgenheit, wenn man nur von Wasser umgeben in den blauen Himmel hinaufschaut. Der Geschmack von Salzwasser auf den Lippen; die gewaltige Kraft der Wellen, welche einem das weite Rausschwimmen schier unmöglich machen, weil sie einem unter die Wasseroberfläche drücken und ans Ufer zurückdrängen. Immer wieder.

Ja, das Meer ist, was dem Leben einen Sinn gibt. Es ist das pure Leben selbst. Nun wusste ich es endlich.

Henry Thoreau

Vor einigen Monaten habe ich mir das Buch "Walden" von Henry David Thoreau gekauft.
Ich bin begeistert von den Schilderungen dieses herausragenden Schriftstellers und möchte gerne einige Passagen aus "Walden" mit Euch teilen.

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

"I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than to be crowded on a velvet cushion.
I would rather ride on earth in an ox-cart with a free circulation, than go to Heaven in the fancy car of an excursion train and breathe Malaria all the way."

"In the streets and in society I am almost invariably
cheap and dissipated, my life is unspeakably mean.
No amount of gold or respectability would in the least
redeem it,-- dining with the Governor or a member of Congress!!
But alone in the distant woods or fields,
in unpretending sprout-lands or pastures tracked by rabbits,
even in a bleak and, to most, cheerless day, like this,
when a villager would be thinking of his inn,
I come to myself, I once more feel myself grandly related,
and that cold and solitude are friends of mine.
I suppose that this value, in my case, is equivalent
to what others get by churchgoing and prayer.
I come home to my solitary woodland walk as the homesick go home.
I thus dispose of the superfluous and see things as they are,
grand and beautiful. I have told many that I walk every day
about half the daylight, but I think they do not believe it.
I wish to get the Concord, the Massachusetts, the America,
out of my head and be sane a part of every day."

Give me your eyes

An dieser Stelle möchte ich eine Begegnung mit einem ganz besonderen Menschen erwähnen.

Ich kann mich noch ganz genau an das Datum erinnern. Montag, 28. Dezember 2009. An diesem Tag ging mein Weihnachtsurlaub zu Ende und ich war abends für einen Air Berlin Flug nach Berlin Tegel gebucht. Am Dienstag musste ich wieder zu arbeiten beginnen.
Der Zufall wollte es, dass nicht nur ich den 16:11 Zug ab St. Gallen nach Zürich genommen habe, sondern auch ein junger Mann aus Volketswil. Und hey, nicht irgendein junger Mann. Sondern der 23-jährige Steven Mack. Nicht dass mir sein Name oder Geischt bekannt vorkamen, als er sich mir vorstellte. Zum Zeitpunkt seines Unfalls im Mai 2006 war ich wohl zu beschäftigt mit mir selbst, als dass ich von Steven's plötzlichem Schicksalsschlag etwas mitbekommen hätte.
Steven, ein begeisterter Extremsportler, ist seit einem schief gegangen Bungee-Sprung von der Gantner Brücke im Wallis blind. Seine Geschichte hat mich zutiefst berührt und ich bin dankbar, dass ich diesen tollen Menschen kennenlernen durfte.
Steven hat sich im Zug zu mir hingesetzt und von seinem Unfall sowie seinen Erfahrungen als Blinder erzählt. Leider musste ich nach gut einer Stunde am Flughafen Zürich aussteigen. Nur zu gerne wäre ich mit Steven noch stundelang weiter Zug gefahren. Dieser mir bis vor kurzem unbekannte Mensch hat mich an seiner Geschichte, seinem Leben teilhaben lassen. Und hat mir damit gezeigt, dass es möglich ist, sich auch nach einem derartigen Schicksalschlag wieder aufzurappeln und weiterhin Freude am Leben zu haben.

Hier nun ein zum Thema passendes Gedicht:

Seen

Seeing takes away the obvious
And the obvious causes strife,
Take away the obvious
And what’s left are mysteries of life.

Seeing takes away instinct
And the instinct creates a defense.
Take away the defense,
And you’ll find offense was your pretense.

Seeing takes away a conscience
And a conscience gives a heart.
Take away the conscience and your “self”
Will fall apart.

Blindness gives a strength
And strength gives esteem.
Take away the strength
And weaknesses are seen.

Blindness gives caution
And caution gives comfort.
Take away the comfort
And in will come the hurt.

Blindness gives a vision
And a vision gives a dream.
Take away the dream
And an emptiness is seen.

For the emptiness is caused
By all the strife in life
And no defense in a pretense
And a heart falling apart
That come with being...

Seen.

Tribute to Ireland

Abschied nehmen


Wie ich hier so sitze;
and den Klippen, im Gras, dem Abgrund nahe;
weit unter mir das tobende Meer,
die Wellen der Irischen See und wie sie gegen die Felsen schlagen;
wird mir plötzlich klar: Es bleibt nur noch wenig Zeit.
Wie schnell die letzten beiden Jahre doch vorbeigezogen sind;
fast so als wäre alles nur ein Traum gewesen.

Ich geniesse den traumhaften Ausblick auf die kleine Halbinsel mit ihrem Leuchtturm, sehe bis hin zum Hafen Dublins und erspähe noch weiter entfernt die Umrisse der Dublin Mountains.
Es ist ruhig, bis auf das schallende Kreischen der Möwen und das Rauschen des Meeres.
Die Touristen haben den Howth Head bereits hinter sich gelassen - zumindest für heute.

Ich spüre die Wärme der Sonne auf der Haut;
es ist der schönste Tag seit langem.
Noch eine oder zwei Stunden, dann wird die Sonne untergehen.
Draussen auf dem Meer Treiben vier oder fünf Segelboote und am Horizont scheint ein riesiger Schiffstanker zu schweben. Auch er verlässt Dublin.

Mir aber bleibt noch ein bisschen Zeit.
Ich will sie für mich alleine, möchte keine andere Menschenseele sehen oder hören.
Darum bin ich hierher gekommen.
Weil ich hier das Stückchen Einsamkeit und Freiheit, die Ruhe, welche ich manchmal so verzweifelt suche, finden kann.

Ja, ein wenig Zeit bleibt mir noch. Bis ich weggehe.
Bis ich Abschied nehmen muss von diesem Land, dieser Insel.
Und trotzdem geht mir alles zu schnell;
ich bezweifle ob ich bereit bin.

Ich lege mich auf den Rücken ins Gras und schliesse die Augen.
Das Sonnenlich wärmt mein Gesicht. Wunderbar.
Ich fühle den sanften Wind und lausche dem Meeresrauschen.
Ich bin müde. Und erschöpft.

Bald werde ich einschlafen, zufrieden, mit einem Lächeln auf den Lippen.
Und es würde mich nicht stören, nie wieder aufzuwachen.


*Erin Go Bragh*

mi homenaje a Fuerteventura

There's nothing worse than leaving someone you still love.

I knew I was in love with this place on our earth when I felt free and relieved as soon as the plane I was on landed at this particular place.
And later on the bus journey I suddenly felt tears streaming down my face whilst looking out the window. I was crying because never before in my life I had seen so much beauty at once.
Nothing else seemed to matter as long as I was there. The pure happiness helped me forgetting all the evil in this world; it made me care-free. I wouldn't even have minded dying.
Being there made me strong, so that nothing or nobody could harm me. Except for the love an other human being felt for me.
Sadly that's what made me leave in the end. Some people just can't stand the thought of open their heart; let someone else want, need, love and trust them. It makes us go away. Even if the pain of parting is unbearable. And will - sooner or later - destroy us.

welcome to Feli's world

Jo grüäziwohl :-)
Nun habe ich mich doch tatsächlich dazu entschlossen, mir endlich meinen eigenen Blog "einzurichten". Zugegebenermassen war mein Leben schon aufregender als es im Moment der Fall ist; aber gerade deswegen habe ich freie Kapazitäten um diese "Plauderecke" hier ins Leben zu rufen!
Sollte ich das Land schon bald wieder verlassen, werde ich hier in Zukunft ab und zu berichten was bei mir so läuft, damit man mir ja niemand mehr unterstellt, ich liesse nichts mehr von mir hören. Aus den Augen - aus dem Sinn: Damit ist jetzt endgültig Schluss!