United Airlines flight 974 with my dad Vaclav Konecny on board just landed in Geneva four and a half hours late due to maintenance on one of the Pratt & Whitney motors.
Homebound
My dad is 80 and he flew home to Czech Republic to say final goodbye to the family. Dad has only one living sibling left, aunt Marta.
He is the founder of our immigration saga that started with the Soviet invasion in 1968. And it continues to evolve to this day with third generation.
That is basically what my memoir Greenwich Meridian is about.
Dad in Venice, Florida
To be continued
Note: This is my 150th post on EW Emma’s Writings on WordPress. The 15th new follower of EW will get a $25 gift certificate to Steak & Shake.
We always do most of the canning and pickling in August during the Lowell Kent County Youth Fair and beyond. We made more than 100 jars of dill pickles in all formats; spears, slices and whole. It is a family recipe. The pickles are sweet and sour. We also make our own marinara sauces and salsa.
“It’s a lot of hard work, but it’s fun,” says my husband Ludek.
In August, we’re in a pickle. We do all the canning.
In August, I started a WordPress blog for my sister-in-law Jarmila. She has a baking business in Stipa, Czech Republic. The blog is CJ Aunt Jarmilkas Desserts at http://jkarmaskova.wordpress.com.
As summer 2013 turned into fall, I traveled to Europe for my big trip covering four countries: France, Czech Republic, Spain and Switzerland. I was out of the USA for five weeks staying in different towns and resorts. I was most impressed by Brno in Czech Republic and the wine village Gevrey-Chambertin in the heart of Burgundy. The trip to Geneva happened by a chance because we were headed to Lausanne with my doctor daughter Emma instead.
“It was totally echec style,” Emma said.
I had to look up the meaning of echec several times. It means checkmate in chess. For a story on Geneva, Switzerland go to my post from Oct. 21.
In October, I experienced a major wine harvest in Gevrey-Chambertin delayed by at least three weeks, but with the best crop ever, according to the winemaker.
Old town Geneva echec style.
It was still sunny and warm when I got back to Michigan by mid-October.
A big moment in time came after a sleepless week in November. My sons’s baby Josephine Marie Palova was born on Nov. 21 on a cloudy morning. We stormed into the birthing center at Bronson Hospital in Kalamazoo equipped with phones, devices and gadgets to take hundreds of photos.
“Mom, this is the only time you go to the hospital happy,” said Emma.
Josephine is the fourth generation Czech-American born into the family whose members fully speak both languages, Czech and English.
Maranda and Josephine Marie Palova.
And lastly to close the year in December, my brother Vas and I experienced the beauty and intricacies of social media, games and such as we played with some designs. We designed a game during the Christmas chaos. It was a relief to get a message from old country Czech Republic.
“Your cousin Olin is a grandpa,” we got the notification via facebook.
“Congratulations from Emma & Vas.”
Happy New Year 2014 from our family to yours.
Have an awesome 2014 and watch for a story on Great Expectations 2014 and inspiring people of the Lowell area.
This is the ninth installment in my travel adventure series through European countries including France, Spain, Czech Republic and Switzerland. I was gone for five weeks to a different world with different languages, and different traditions. So, now after coming back on Oct. 9th to Lowell,Michigan, it feels like I’ve been in a time capsule.
Geneva, Switzerland Oct. 2nd
We planned a day trip to Switzerland with my daughter Emma partially because of my Lowell area following of friends. A great portion of Lowell residents are of Swiss origin including my neighbors and one of my best friends.
Geneva, where Rhone meets Lake Geneva and the Alps.
I’ve never been to Switzerland, and I didn’t know what to expect. I’ve only heard stories how beautiful the country is, and I remembered my friend’s pictures of Swiss Alps in her office. Switzerland borders with France to the east and shares the language, but not the membership in the European Union. So, the country has its own currency, and that is the Swiss frank, which has a lower value than the Euro, but higher than US dollar.
Our intention was to go to Lausanne which is located on Lake Geneva just like the city of Geneva. We took the back roads to avoid the 40- frank sticker for using the freeway crossings between the two countries. Soon after we left the cheese city of Poligny, home to the famous Comte cheese, the narrow road started climbing. We were stuck behind a truck, that wouldn’t let us pass.
Geneva with backdrop of Alps.
When we finally lost the truck, the signs to Lausanne also disappeared. Now, instead of Lausanne, all the signs pointed to Geneva. The two cities are not exactly close to each other. Each city is on a different side of Lake Geneva that stretches for more than 50 kilometers.
We stopped at a border town already high in the mountains, where you could hear bells ringing. I thought it was the train coming. Then I looked up, and the cows that were grazing on a steep hill, had bells tied around their necks. I knew we were in for a Swiss adventure, and not just chocolate and milk.
“This is a classical echec,” Emma said. “We’re on our way to Geneva. Those cows have the bells so they don’t get lost.”
“What is echec?” I asked about the strange French word that doesn’t have an exact translation but derives its origins from chess terminology. I was yet to find out what echec really is.
Old town Geneva.
We arrived into beautiful Geneva instead of Lausanne on a sunny afternoon. People on the streets were already wearing winter coats and jackets. We walked into the old town across a bridge, where the big river Rhone flows into Lake Geneva on the backdrop of snow-capped Alps with eternal ice. The water sparkled in the sun with a million rays. A landscape on the bank lined by beautiful buildings was in the shape of a clock.
“This is breathtaking,” I said.
Boats and yachts were cruising on the mysterious lake that does not give away its secrets.
“I got to get some monkey money,” Emma said referring to any currency that is not Euro.
Well, the monkey money, could not buy us a lunch that we could regularly afford in France or in Czech Republic, not to talk about Spain.
We ended up eating steamed food in a paper dish at probably the only health food restaurant in Geneva. Signs advertising menus on the sidewalks in front of restaurants did not go below 30 franks for a dish of tartiflette or potatoes with cheese. Even a burger in Geneva cost 15 franks.
We walked into a Geneva “patisserie” or coffee house and did not buy their cream filled squares covered with chocolate and a logo, because we were full of the steamed food.
“There will be other patisseries like this where we can have a dessert,” we thought.
Well, there were not. We did stop to buy some Swiss chocolate in the new town at La Chocolaterie de Geneve. The friendly owner lady offered us extra chocolates to taste.
Swiss clocks and watches even in landscapes.
But, still if I didn’t have Emma by my side with her knowledge of French, I would have trouble communicating in this heavily tourist European metropolis.
Also, while window shopping, most stores did not indicate prices of their goods and the famous Swiss watches. The Chanel store did not label prices either, but it was cool to check out their tweed-covered purses.
So, in the end we had Swiss franks left, and spent them at a tiny border town meaningless gas station on our way back to France for a beer and a coffee.
authoremmapalova 