For the last leg of our course, we “swish over to Swisherland” and head to Geneva, home of such IHL icons as the UN, the Red Cross/Crescent, and the Geneva Conventions (or, as they call them over here, “Conventions”).
For a place built on a reputation of precision and reliability, Geneva turned out quite different from our expectations. I, for instance, had visions of an alpine utopia of scenery, safety and consistency. A Swiss Singapore, if you will.
Well, the parks around the UN were pretty enough, and the waterfront certainly sparkled. The city center, on the other hand, was surprisingly New Yorkified: urban, crowded and expensive.
And we had, sad to say, a most unfortunate first impression of the city. As our bus was entering Geneva, Patricia (the Institute’s do-it-all Secretariat/tour guide/interpreter/all-around nice person) announced over the P.A. system “please watch your belongings very carefully; during last year’s course, I turned my back for one second and then someone stole my camera from the parked bus.”
For a place built on a reputation of precision and reliability, Geneva turned out quite different from our expectations. I, for instance, had visions of an alpine utopia of scenery, safety and consistency. A Swiss Singapore, if you will.
Well, the parks around the UN were pretty enough, and the waterfront certainly sparkled. The city center, on the other hand, was surprisingly New Yorkified: urban, crowded and expensive.
And we had, sad to say, a most unfortunate first impression of the city. As our bus was entering Geneva, Patricia (the Institute’s do-it-all Secretariat/tour guide/interpreter/all-around nice person) announced over the P.A. system “please watch your belongings very carefully; during last year’s course, I turned my back for one second and then someone stole my camera from the parked bus.”
We reacted with a collective “Huh?”, and thought "C'mon, this is Geneva; the thin mountain air must be getting to Patricia."
After that announcement, our classmates who live/d in Geneva chimed in with their own stories: how their consulate regularly received nationals who had everything stolen from them; how a colleague stayed in a hotel where someone was stabbed in the room next door.
Again, we were in disbelief and all “Really? Geneva? Really?”
Then, as we were unloading those in our group billeted in a certain inner-city hotel -- our very first stop in Geneva -- some guy on the street snatched one of our classmate’s bags from the just-opened luggage compartment of the bus and then tried to make a break for it, but was chased down by another classmate - a Commander in an African nation’s armed forces.
(Now, I didn’t see everything, but if I did, I'd be all paraphrasing “Tremors” and yelling “Yeah!!!! You broke into the wrong goddamn tour bus, didn’t ya!!” at the snatcher).
So, anyway, welcome to Geneva.
The Trip
It's about an eight-hour ride from Sanremo to Geneva, but you don't really mind because of the majestic views along the way (although, because the roads ran along valley floors rather than on mountainsides, I didn't get as much a sense of height and adventure as I did on Zumarraga or Sagada roads). The whole trip was like continuously skating past the backdrop at the Mall of Asia rink =)
The trip can actually be shorter by a couple of hours, it's just that the rest-stops are such guilty pleasures you can't help but, well, rest and stop. In the place above, for instance, you had a sunbathing area, a man-made lake, gliders, and castle-views (and all-you-can-toilet-paper!).
To get to Switzerland, we had to pass under Mont Blanc and through the tunnel connecting Italy and France. The tunnel was more than 11 kilometers long, took 15 minutes to get through, and made my claustrophobic classmates dizzy and nauseous. Good thing they had great open views to look forward to at the other end...
...or, depending on which half of the picture they look at, something even more nauseating.
In addition to everything else, Patricia was also our official photographer -- risking life and limb to get the perfect shot, and not once losing her patience over the dozens of "can you take one with my camera?" requests from the Asians.
Downtown Geneva
If you played word association and started with “Geneva”, would “graffiti” and “standstill-get-off-and-walk traffic” ever come to mind? And our group was still so stunned by the bus incident and all the other stories that everyone took to doing things they didn’t previously do, like bringing their laptops and passports everywhere because they didn’t want to leave them in the downtown hotels. Not that other cities don't have similar or worse things about them, but I never in a million years would have brought Geneva into the conversation.
And for a place so urban, Geneva got no game.
Ah, but That Waterfront
Gorgeous, sparkling and vibrant, the water played gracious host to boaters, fishers, swimmers, and water-skiers alike. The jet d'eau was a nice, distinctive touch, too. The area also appeared in such film classics as...
...the second Bourne movie, in the climactic scene where Jason decides to lay the smack down; and...
..."Baywatch Geneva: The 'Hoff after the Hamburger"
The Old Town / Shopping District
Now this is what I expected Geneva to be like! Historic, charming, and picturesque, the area lends itself to stress-free strolls and profound deep-thinking (and shopping; can't forget the profound shopping).
My classmates tried an Abbey Road-type photo, but settled for a boy-band CD cover (BTW, in a band, I'd want to be known as "The Bad Boy", [but would more likely be called "The Lame Flabby One"]).
Each of those glowing blue tiles on the plaza has a short multilingual greeting written on it, like "Bienvenue", or "Thanks a Lot", or "Quit Reading This Tile and Look Out for that Lamppost, You Moron".
The Swiss Food
...or, as they call it here, "Fondue". Seriously, everything we were served seemed to come from a communal pot of some kind (not that I'm complaining; the "Bread dipped in Cheese with Alcohol" [and other classmates' fluids] was absolutely delicious).
At a tourist restaurant called - what else - Edelweiss, our group gets out-touristed by a flood of Japanese visitors. The musicians entertained everyone with musical spoons, jars, bottles, saws, coins-in-bowls (you had to be there), and a truly big-ass horn. They invited guests to blow on the thing, and when my Mongolian classmate successfully met their challenge, the musicians joyfully shouted, "Arigato! Arigato!"
I don't often use "spectacular" and "cafeteria" in the same sentence, but I don't know how else to describe the World Meteorological Society's spectacular cafeteria (which was climate controlled hahahahaha)
I forget the name of this place in the Old Town, but it was very popular and served the Swiss version of Chicken Bacolod with potato wedges (for the "low" price of 20 euros). Anyway, it was a memorable dinner because a lady (just outside the frame of this photo) waiting for an open table kept on staring at us and giving us dagger looks while we were eating. I guess she really wanted chicken.
Omg! Forget everything I said about Geneva! The chocolates! OMFG!
The Neighborhood Ferrari Store
Because the downtown Geneva streets were so narrow, our bus couldn't pick us up directly in front of our hotel, so everyday we had to walk to the corner of the main street -- which happened to have an awesome Ferrari / Maserati dealership. No one would ever mistake us for customers (did you see the pricelist?!), so everyday we would act like showroom salesmen. We were lucky the owner never called the cops on us.
The UN / Palais des Nations
The Institute must be pretty well-connected, because part of our course was a special trip to the UN Offices in Geneva, including a substantive hour-long meeting with the Director General. We also had a private tour around the whole complex afterwards. Now, I don't want to start any east coast-west coast style rivalries here, but New York UN, you do know that Geneva UN has a better gift shop-concessionaire combo, right?
Our meeting was held in the historic Council Room, former site of the League of Nations, and now home to disarmament and peace accord sessions. It's also known as the Spanish Room because of the breathtaking wrap-around mural by artist Jose Maria Sert (again, New York UN, your Security Council Chamber was cool, but the painting there was just one sided, not 360; I'm just saying)
Many UN member states helped out with the building interiors by donating various items and materials. Can you spot the Philippine contribution in the photos above? If you said "why, the brown carpet made of coconut fiber, of course", then husay mo, bata!
Rovilson's worst nightmare: studs who know their flags.
The Red Cross/Crescent HQ and Museum
Our last stop before we finished the course was a lecture at the home office of the Red Cross/Crescent (now also known as the Red Crystal). IHL was the RC's bread-and-butter, so we took everything they said to heart -- even though a lot of it was pretty depressing. Still, the tour through their museum was very interesting, not the least because the original Geneva Convention (above) was there, and because the Philippine Red Cross had its own booth, showcasing . . .
. . . The Adventures of Captain Kalusugan! (and his sidekick, Dorky)
Graduation
Alas, all good things must come to an end, so our IHL program closes with simple graduation rites (but no prom). We bid each other goodbye, with best wishes for a world so peaceful there wouldn't even be a need for IHL and global arguments are limited to that whole do-you-mix-yogurt-with-milk debate.
Yes! I made it! I finally graduated, after all these...um...days. The hiiiiillllllllssssss aaarrrrrreee a-llliiiiiiivvveeeeee..........
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