Part 10 finds us in Europe again. "Food and drink keep body and soul together" This proverb is displayed in the kitchen of many Swiss homes. Demonstrating they take their food serious and that meals are the center of family life. So here we are sitting deciding what to eat. I ask about Swiss Steak and the waitress says " Oh! very good choice . It's very tender, through a process we call swissing. It's not named after our country, but rather the process of rolling and pounding called swissing." I say "Thanks that sounds good. Do you have fondue?" She answers " We wouldn't be in Switzerlnd if we didn't have our national dish now would we?" I answer " No I supoose we wouldn't. So a fondue for all of us to share." My dad says " I'd like the Weiner-Schnitzel an order of Rosti and a bottle of Fendant" My mother very unexpectedly says " zürigschnätzlets with Rosti and an order of swiss chard" I say "Mama where did you learn that and how can you even pronounce it?" She smiles and says " Your father can be very useful on occasion." My dad smiles and says " Ruth you still need to work on your umlaut, but overall not bad." The meal comes and we enjoy it immensely. After which we take a short stroll and hit the hay. The next morning my mother and I are on our own . My dad has meetings set up for most of the day. We go to see the Swiss National Mueum to investigate "Dada and Dadadism."Then it's off to the great church which is most recognized landmark in Zurich. We have lunch at an outdoor cafe and head back to the hotel. My dad seems in a hurry to make it to Ascona before nightfall. We pack checkout and load up our rented Fiat . The trip is only 85 miles, but what makes this journey so fascinating is the trek through the alps and various mountain passes. My dad is a very good driver, but from the passenger side it always looks like we are about to slide off the mountain and fall thousands of feet to a fiery death. It's not uncommon to not have enough room for 2 car to pass each other. There are little drive offs every so often to allow for this. The lack of guard rails kept me in a constant state of fear that the next hairpin curve might be our last. I want to point out that these perceptions are from my perspective as a teenager at the time. To add to the excitement there are motorcycles who choose only the most deadly places to pass at breakneck speed as they lean on the wet slippery road riding the very edge. If my father ever wanted revenge for the hernia I gave him in Paris this would more than suffice. Regardless of the many trips on these roads my heart was always in my throat thinking that I wouldn't get to see my next birthday. I constantly chant "Dad, Please slow down, Dad,drive safe,Dad,watch out!" To which he would reply " Jody I am, why don't you sit right behind me so you can see things from my perspective?" After doing this I can see that indeed he is driving safe. nevertheless it's difficult to get my fear under control. So we're climbing on a narrow winding road and occasionally stop to enjoy the lookouts and rest stops available. The sheer enormity of the Alps is mind staggering. How could anyone every walk across such a place. How would you know where you were going and what was passable and what wasn't? This and many other questions run through my mind as we weave through the mountain passes. The pass that sticks out the most is the San Bernadino pass. In 1967 there was a tunnel built which made it much easier to cross. The pass is only open in the summer due to extreme climate. The top of the pass represents both the Italo-German language frontier and the water shed (drainage divide) betweeen the Po basin and the Rhine basin. We arrive in Ascona just before sunset. The view of this quaint fishing village nestled in the valley by Lago Magiore is truly breathtaking. Our Villa is above the vilage at a place called Casa Wulfenham. Our apartment is spacious and has a view the is still imprinted in my mind today. We all unpack and get comfortable. I take a little walk around the grounds which are impressive. Everything is built on the side of a mountain. I do find something of interest and that is a ping pong table. I remember the phrase my dad taught me " Willst du ping pong mit mir spielen bitte?" (Would you play ping pong with me please?) It's amazing how this one little phrase opened so many doors to me, even a few I didn't want opened. Being of Jewish heritage I'm wary and alert for danger signs of anything to do with Nazis. This incident happened one day when I was playing ping pong with a bunch of teenagers and we all went for a walk down by the lake. We went swimming and then were invited up to one of the boys villas for towels and cocoa. When we arrived there was a group of gentlemen playing chess and conversing in German. The father wants to meet me and I introduce myself as Jody Shultz. To which his immediate response was "Ahh Jewish, Heinrich perhaps you would like to show our guest the house." Heinrich responds with "Papa, let me just get him a towel and he'll be on his way." The father mumbles something stern to his son in German and Heinrich motions for me to follow him. I hear the German men laughing in almost a mocking tone. I praying this is just my active imagination running away with me. A girl from our ping pong group named Anna is with me so I don't feel that intimidated . As I go into the house I see Nazi memorbilia and swastikas everywhere. We go to Heinrichs' room and he gets me a towel. As I'm emerging from the bathroom he waves me to sit on his bed with Anna. It immediately becomes a weird sexual energy and I want to do nothing more than to escape this freak show. I start to get up and Anna grabs me ticling me to fall back on the bed. Her and Heirich start kissing and I say "Thanks, but my dad will be looking for me. Ignoring me, they continue the kissing and petting while I go outside to see the father look at me with what I can only describe as contempt. I say "Nice joint Adolph. You should be proud of passing on such a nice legacy of hate to your son." The father gets up and I look for things to grab and places to leap. He stares icily and finally says " You're an insolent little Jew aren't you? We're leaving this place tomorrow anyway. The type of guest here is not to our liking." I run out of there hearing some german insults at my back . I run all the way back to the apartment, grab my mother for a hug and tremble in her arms. She asks" Jody for goodnees sake what's wrong with you?" I lie and say " I just got home sick and needed a hug mama." I go to my father who is on the Veranda finishing the crossword puzzle in the Herald Tribune. I look at him for a few minutes trying to imagine what it must have been like for him as a child growing up with all that hate and fear surrounding him. I decide that these pathetic wanna bees are not worth disturbing his crossword puzzle. I checked the next day to in fact find that they had indeed left. I saw Anna and she couldn't look at me. Not knowing if it was shame or disdain I do what I almost always do when I have an impish impulse. I go with it and say "Damn the consequences". I wave at Anna, forcing her to recognize me and say loud enough for others to hear " GUTTEN MORGEN SCHWESTER! SHALOM!! I smile to myself as she runs away never to be seen be me again. So now that the Nazis and their sympathizers are out of the picture, let's go enjoy Ascona. I tell my Dad I'll meet him in in town at our favorite outdoor cafe for coffee and choolate. I leave and follow the winding road for a bit until I come to a long zig zag of stone steps leading into Ascona proper. There is a maze of curving interconnecting roads lined with buildings with a rainbow of colors ready to explore. I wander the cobblestone streets checking everything out and enjoying the freedom to investigate a place without the insatiable desire to find trouble for entertainment. I attribute this change to the influence of both my parents who truly have beautiful minds. It almost saddens me that I have more brawn and balls than brains. Who knows, maybe I'll be a late intellectual bloomer. In the recesses of some almost forgotten alleyway is a used english book store. I am ecstatic because number one I'll be able to find something to read, and number two my mother will be jealous that I discovered it before her. I walk into find a dark dusty treasure trove of books waiting to be found. I share with my mother the joy and marvel of being surrounded by so many stories, that it would take several life times to read them. I come across a series of books called Trixie Belden. Although she is similar to Nancy Drew I like her better. She is a freckled faced tom boy with Math woes who lives in Westchester County where I live. These mysteries restored a sense that the world wasn't just an evil scary place to be feared. After buying a couple Trixie Belden books I happened upon by chance and an olfactory attraction to find a wonderful bakery. I am extremely short on Francs and must look like a drooling puppy because this nice woman waves me in to ty this scrumptious strawberry shortcake Swiss style. To this day I haven't found its equal. After vigorously thanking and bowing my gratitude I head down to the water front to meet my parents for breakfast at Piazzetta Ambrosoli on Via Borgo. Around the turn of the century, a group of artists and intellectuals wanted to create a Utopian, vegetarian artist colony in Ascona. Today we reap the benefits of our Bohemian predecessors by enjoying: home made crepes with fresh fruit, cheese plates and chocolate covered croissants. After breakfast we walk together and decide what our plans are going to be. First item is to do the food shopping. Every country has its own way of displaying and organizing their food. Ascona is no different. The differences that I remember most were the odd shaped triangular cardboard unrefrigerated milk containers that were placed in multi-colored iron cages. It resembled a geometric work of art. After returning and carrying the groceries up the long hill to our apartment everyone was ready for a nap. So I sat down and began my Trixie Belden novel. Tomorrow my Dad and I are going to Lugano to take a train to Stutgart and the Mercedes manufacturing plant. There we will see is car assembled take a tour and stay over night. There are many questions I want to ask my Dad about what it was like here before the war. I am also extremely curious about my heritage and how Europe fits into it. Speaking of night it's late and I will continue tomorrow. Thanks and goodnight . Jody
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