The Weekly Letter
Nonagenarian nuns nix nazy’s nifty knots
Here in Zürich we’re in the middle of a long weekend. The friday before Easter and the monday after Easter are both holidays. [The concept of a long weekend is foreign here. Shops will be closed friday, sunday and monday... but they will be open on saturday. This inexplicable anomaly is disruptive for people who work in shops.] Holiday or not, I extend my traditional best wishes for health, happiness and prosperity as I continue my normal exercise routine: mountain walks with Nazy and regular swimming excursions:
“My God,” I thought (appropriately), “I’m behind nine ninety-year-old nuns. I’ll never get to the pool.”
The ninety nonagenarian nuns waddled into the dressing area ahead of me. The leader, i.e. the Great-Great-Grand Mother Superior was short: about 4’10” (1.45 meters) and she had a walking stick. Naturally, I was able to get to the pool before the nuns. i was even completed a 2.5 kilometer swim as they began to ‘swim’.
The Abbess (with the help of her walking stick and a floatation device) enter the water with the grace of a circus clown tap dancing in swim flippers. She extended her walking stick and used it to push herself along the (shallow) end of the pool. The remaining nuns dispersed and s-l-o-w-l-y, but strategically arrayed themselves.
“It looks like they’ve laid a minefield,” I thought - noting the bobbing clergy. “These nuns could close the Straights of Hormuz. Swimmers won’t be able to maneuver and exercise will cease. Luckily, I am finished.” I saw the Mother Superior whack an overly zealous swimmer. “Now I know why she needs the walking stick,” I thought.
Last Sunday, April 1st, was Nazy’s birthday. Darius flew to Zürich for the event. We decided to celebrate by driving to a beautiful place in Switzerland: the Lauterbrunnen Valley.
Reader Question: Didn’t you see the Lauterbrunnen Valley at this time last year?
Author Answer: We drove to Lauterbrunnen last year. The photograph shows the view. Clearly.., it is not correct to say that we ‘saw’ the Lauterbrunnen Valley.
Reader: Clearly?
Answer: Foggily, it is not accurate to say that we ‘saw’ the Lauterbrunnen Valley.
Reader: Was the view better this year?
Answer: Read on, dear reader.
It was overcast when we began our two hour drive.
“Do you think this is a good idea?” I asked.
“What?” Nazy replied.
“There is nothing exciting about looking into a cloud-filled sky that is devoid of detail and..”
“Cloud-filled sky? Aren’t you the optimist Dan?”
“Look around Nazy. Remember last year and the cloud forest in Costa Rica?”
“The Schilthorn is a very high..”
“... 10,000 feet..”
“... mountain, so we will be above the clouds, Dan.”
“Of course,” I replied. “That’s what you said last year,” I thought and turned to Darius. “My brother David says that Lauterbrunnen is one of the most beautiful places on the planet.”
“Right Dad.” Darius replied. “Was it cloudy when he visited?”
“Don’t worry,” I replied as the c l o u d s dissipated. We drove directly to the telefèric..
“Directly to the what?” Darius asked.
“The cable car, Dar. We’re going to the top of Schilthorn.” The trip, which takes 30 minutes, involves 4 separate cable cars. The view as you ascend is wonderful. The view from the top:
We had lunch at a revolving restaurant on the Schilthorn summit - the set used as Ernst Blofeld’s lair in the 007 film: On Her Majesty’s Secret Service.
Darius had to return to Beirut early on April 2nd, but Nazy tried to get him to stay longer:
Darius complained “Mom! I must teach at 8:00 AM on Tuesday.”
“8:00AM?” I thought. “Darius?”
“... and I cannot miss that class. I also have to finish the model for my paper with Marak, create a make-up test for my seminar in Germany, prepare for the...”
“At least we have time to ‘tie the grass’. Right, Dar?” Nazy interjected.
Note: On the 13th day after the Persian New Year, it is traditional to ‘tie the grass’ This ritual involves an expedition to a forest where young shoots are springing to life. Each participant ties two sprouts together. It is claimed that every wish that is made during the event is sure to come true. The tradition also mandates seven wishes per participant.
“Nazy,” I noted, “we’re running late and Darius has to leave. Let’s do ‘one’ wish.”
“Are you out of your...”
“Tell you what, my dear. For my one wish, I will wish that all seven of the wishes that I would have made if I had time will, nevertheless, come true.”
“Dan..”
“And, Mom, I’ll wish that my six additional made a day late, in Beirut, also come true.”
“Darius..”
It turned out that our undoubted creativity was ineffective. Even though we were late, Nazy demanded that we complete the ritual. So we did. (It is bad luck to disclose one’s secret wishes, but I will say that I don’t expect any more nuns at the swimming pool.) I attempted to take a photo of the process, but my camera died. The lens will neither fully extend (so it will not focus) nor fully retract (so it collects dust). An unfocused and dusty lens is not an ideal photographic configuration. “I should have wished for a functional digital camera,” I thought.
Photos from Darius’ visit (taken before the camera disaster) are available on facebook and here. Friends ‘like’ the pictures with Darius and Nazy. I have no ‘likes’ for pictures of me.
Take care and Cheers,
Dan
P.S.Darius sent an SMS on Apr 3
“Did NOT have to teach. Forget to change time zones on alarm. Missed class. Students Happy.”