Saying Goodbye to Switzerland

For the last day the shade seems to have been closing over Switzerland. As we prepared to leave and took care of last minute details, the mountains have been shaded in fog. I realized that contemplating the mountains has been one of the main focuses of our stay here. They have been our companions at every turn and their absence while on the lake was noticeable. The physical presence of the mountains deeply affected the writers who experienced this area and, after seeing them myself, I can understand why. The influence of the mountains is present in every activity, every moment of the day.
The mountains overwhelm your view, but they are never old. In each moment the light in the mountains change. The colors and shadows shift and reform as the day passes. Similarly we could see the changes in our thoughts on the literature while here. As we sat on the stones in the dungeon of Chillon and then on top of the mountain at Derborence the literature was put into a different light. We were no long passive readers, but active participants in the moment. Switzerland deepened the understanding that knowledge is like climbing a mountain. As we conquer a peak and feel that we know something, we are shown another higher peak.

Looking Outside the Body. . . Final Blog

I like to think of our study abroad trip to Switzerland as a reenactment. As we followed the same steps as the Romantic writers and poets, we seemed to be mimicking their same discovery. Since our group has been one of the first, if not the first to study abroad in Switzerland from Western Kentucky University, I see us all as pioneers. Like the romantics we had to see both faces of the Alps. Through our study we saw the Alps as both a healing entity and cruel destiny. C.F. Ramuz painted the mountains in dark words and stressed the cruelness of the mountains and hostility of nature. However, Johanna Spyri emphasized the healing power of the Alps in the classic, Heidi. Writers of the Alps went through individual journeys in discovering the sublime. What is sublime to one is not to someone else. According to the German philosopher Immanuel Kant our mind and how it is raised says what is sublime. This is the same journey we took on ourselves. Discovering ourselves through our relationship with nature and the power to transport ourselves out of the norm. Part of what made up the Romantic writers was the need to search for the sublime and understanding, analyzing, and critiquing the surroundings in order to put together the pieces to larger questions.
Our relationship with the mountains can be haunting and full filling. The experience we have had over the past three weeks was about making connections. One cannot understand themselves until they leave their normal environment. This is the tradition the Romantic writers began. Their writing began the tourism tradition in the Alps and took some fear out of the mountains. Yet the madness continues. We continue to make expeditions to try to understand nature and massive mountains. With the hopes of understanding the other, one feels that they can better understand themselves. This tradition continues like the tradition of writing. We build off of the writers we read; we continue the conversations. We answer questions, and then we state a dozen more. But it is this cycle that makes us crazy and makes us sane. We continue to write and read, study and travel. We are human and must look outside the body.

Fear and loathing in Gryon, Switzerland

I feel so insignificant when compared to these mountains. Sitting and looking out the tiny windows of my impromptu meditative study room, the chalets on the opposite mountain remind me how small I am; remind me of my tiny existence when compared to these vast and jagged hillsides. I've missed so many things being here:, people, ideas, my animals, and 24-hour-service, but I have also gained. I've gained the chill feel to an evening dinner under the mountains with the fellowship of great friends and teachers; I've gained the excited late night scramble of train schedules and study sessions where my fellows students and I scour some specific romantic idea or memory or another; I've gained the soothing sound of water pounding from cliffs, wind in the pines, and meditation to the inhalation of smooth and sweet Alpine air...

Three weeks come and go more quickly than one can prepare for. One can read the material, prepare for the worst, communicate as often as possible and still be surprised. In the presence of such sublimity, such profound and unexplainable beauty, little is left to the imagination. I feel all and every minute of my journeys could not have been planned, could not have been sought for originally. Every endeavor I've encountered here, I've taken on the whim, and I am glad for that. Sure, some excursions have been planned and monitored, but for the most part, all our off-the-cuff plans have been the most rewarding. Having no phone, no parents, nothing but 20 francs, a few dried pieces of bread and chocolate, two pictures of your lover and animals, and a map explaining your limits as far as European public transportation goes is as free as it gets. Coming from an environment of straight-lined, narrow passages, I appreciated the freedom the Alps provided. I appreciated my moments of solitude, my moments of survival, however minute they appeared to others, and I especially enjoyed my other 11 comrades of travel with whom I met and became close.

I came to the Alps expecting great changes, refreshing air, and the best study of my lifetime. Reading specific literature written for this land, inspired by this land, and standing in exact locations of some of the greatest writers to live great to be intimidating. I found myself wondering if I was lacking some sort of creativity supposedly inspired by the very mountains I happened to be staring at, or if I were perhaps in the wrong place at the wrong time. But now I know the Alps are very personal. You're supposed to be a little mixed up and confused in these environments. Those big giants are supposed to intimidate us. Hell, they've been here longer than we can imagine, and they'll outlive us by centuries, most likely. How could they not wield the power? How could they not determine our destinies, our expectations for the future? The people of these lands have suffered because of this very sublime we praise. They have known the turmoil, the aching faith of this harsh land. Yet I still feel uplifted when I look out my skylight and see these pine tree felted hillsides.

The Mountains and all their glorious splendor...

When we arrived here in Gryon, my eyes never looked at my feet. My neck was sore, looking up at a sight that I have never experienced. The air was thinner than what I was used to, the sun was closer to my face, the feeling of insignificance washed over me. I was merely another life form, come to stay on the mountains for a few nights. Nothing like the trees, the sheep, the grass, the snow, the fog, that is supposed to be residing on the mountains. For once, it wasn't natural for me to present in an area. These mountains were their before us, they are here during us, they will be here after us. 

Traveling across Switzerland, seeing the Mountains, the Lakes, the Castles, the Waterfall, I can see why these Romantic writers would be so inspired to lay words down on paper, in such a combination that placed themselves into Literature books. We went to the Prison of Chillon, to Waterfall where a character fell to his death, we climbed to the edge of a demolished village. Seeing the imagination come to life is in itself, an experience that few have had the chance to enjoy.

Many write about how beautiful, how brave, how pensive, the mountains are. However, those are the thoughts of travelers and a few natives. Most of the natives know the history, know the lives under the mountain, know what has happened under their feet. Coming off the hikes, the Swiss look at us as if to say "Why would you do that?", they climb the mountains everyday, not for recreation, they have to, it's their home. After reading Kant, the idea of the sublime, makes a student realize that the mountains are just their, they have no life force, no soul. The Swiss have their own opinion, travelers have theirs.

The mountains are not here for our recreation, they are here as a habitat to creatures that are meant to survive on them. Those where life is not meant to thrive, the mountain lets it be known.  The Mountains are indeed beautiful, indeed strong in stature, indeed frightening, moving, inspiring, fearless. But, those ideas are of just another traveler.

The mountains and all their glorious splendor...

Overall Impact of the Swiss Alps

Where do I start? I can completely see how the Romantics were inspired by the beauty of Switzerland and the Alps. A lifetime wouldn't be long enough to take this all in, let alone three weeks. I have absolutely loved it here: the lifestyle, the people, the food, the nature... everything. The mountains are the most glorious thing I have ever seen. The Alps never cease to take my breath away no matter what time of day I gaze upon them. One of my favorite things about this trip has been that every night when I go to bed and every morning when I wake up, the first thing I see is this stunning landscape.

I could stare at the mountains for hours and it would never get old. Each time I look at them, I continue to be in awe. Though, I still haven't captured the idea of the mountains being evil like we discussed in some of our texts. To me, they're intimidating and humbling, but not vindictive. Maybe if I would have visited or lived here when some of these writers did, I could understand, but the main thing I CAN relate to is how inspirational the mountains are. I have thoroughly enjoyed every second of this study abroad. I don't want to leave, but have to return to real life.

Munich, Germany

This past weekend Adrianna, Morgan & I went to Munich, Germany. We stayed with a German family whose son is a friend of Adrianna's. I thought that Switzerland and Italy were culture shocks... holy cow- Germany was the biggest of them all! The German language is practically impossible to guess and the lifestyle is so unlike America.

Our first night we all went to a festival (kind of like a mini Octoberfest). There were so many people, loud music, and beer. People danced, sang and stood on the tables in a way that was refreshing. I feel like in America, we are all so worried about what other people think and too consumed with stresses of life to cut loose and have fun. The Germans are the definition of fun and entertainment- no matter what time of day.

The next day we shopped... ALOT! Munich is full of inexpensive places and beautiful buildings. We were all amazed by the fact that every time we turned around there was an old, majestic building with all these new, modern shops in it. After walking around and shopping for hours, we went for lunch at an authentic German restaurant called Hofbrauhaus (HB for short). This place was HUGE and full of German culture and tradition. They served the beer steins and had a live band. Beautiful architecture, big tables, and amazing food all accompanied our true German experience. It was delightful.

Sadly, after a couple more hours tooling around, our day came to an end as did our Germany adventure. I really was surprised at how much I enjoyed the culture. I was expecting mean, cruel people (like Hitler) and dirty streets and buildings. I was completely wrong. I really was blown away by how wonderful everything was. I would love to go back one day so that I could spend some more time in this beautiful country.