Zurich Street Parade - The Call of the Weirdos

Oh man, every time I think I should write something and log in, as soon as I hit the new post button my mind goes as blank as the wall I am staring at. I have about half a dozen half-posts waiting to be completed which I am mighty afraid I will never get down to doing. So, help me out. What do I write about? Ah, well some news updates. My influence on the blogosphere has been extended thanks to a collaborative blog I am now a part off. Check out the storm I started brewing over there , here. Also, got this very cool map which shows from where my readers are. Can you see it? I am hoping it's a giant sea of red soon. Need your help to do that though, so visit often, make sure you take plenty of international vacations and log in while holidaying as well!!





















Last Saturday was the Zurich street parade, the largest techno rave in the world. So there I was with my band of merry IAESTE revelers to soak up the sun and fun. The Swiss are a pretty obedient lot. You tell them to work 8 hours a day, and they'll do that with a dedication, bordering on passion right down to the last second. You tell them to party and you can be assured they will till they drop dead from fatigue. The second Saturday of August is such a day. The Swiss are called out to throng the streets of Zurich and hang out at one giant party! Some interpret this a little too literally and let it 'ALL' hang out.


There were people of all shapes, sizes and ages on the streets, dressed in costumes ranging from cute, to kinky to the downright bizarre. But the prize for best costume, if there was one has to go my new house mate TT. Where 'less is more, but nothing is even better' seemed to be the motto of the day TT showed up to the event, on a 30°C, sunny summer day in a sweater and jacket. How he didn't bake himself into a human Shepherd's Pie is beyond me. I wasn't doing myself any favours in my Swiss sweatshirt, which felt more like a sweatshop.




Pensioners were prancing around in minimal clothing, all happy and gay. I am sure the children present were mentally scarred for life. Imagine, if you can, your grandmother, in a bikini, at best, dancing to the latest electronic shit they call music.I am 21 and I was deeply traumatized. Just imagine what nervous wreck those little children will grow up to be!



When I told my colleagues I was going to the parade, they all told me one thing. 'DO NOT CONSUME ANY PILL THEY OFFER YOU'(Yes, they said it in CAPITAL LETTERS). They obviously thought that I was a hypochondriac under the impression that I was attending the celebration of the discovery to cure the common cold. Thanks to all the dire warnings, I was hoping to get a stash of pills,powders and leaves sizing up to atleast a small hillock enabling me to become the Pablo Escobar of my tiny Swiss village. But, no dear readers,even half a pill of Ecstasy didn't come my way. Maybe it was the 'Say No to Drugs' campaign launched by the government and event organisers, but the number of people sprawled on their backs by the lake-side, in artificially induced comas seems to suggest otherwise. I guess they just weren't feeling particularly generous that day.



Now, that my dreams of becoming a powerful drug lord had gone up in smoke(quite literally), there was not much to hold my interest there. There is only that many crazy people one can tolerate in a single day and my threshold was fast approaching. I am no 'tranceformer' (that's a term I have coined for people who transform from peace loving humans to toe crushing baboons on hearing trance) and neither am I addicted to any type of house, other than the ones which have beds, fridges and TVs. Moreover I had smoked passively just under a million cigarettes and needed to leave before the onset of lung cancer. I hobbled back home, choking and sputtering like an Ambassador car well past it's prime...

Bond, with the Best

A few weeks back I found an invitation in my inbox. To do a bungee jump. Not just any bungee jump, but the world's highest. This is what it said about the jump:

"The jumping height of 220 m not only means world record off ground, it is also the most famous bungee jump world wide. Mr. James Bond, in the film Goldeneye, jumped off this very wall of the Verzasca dam exactly here in Ticino. It is considered to be the best stunt in movie history. Professional jump masters on site ensure your safe jump. All you have to bring along is the courage to jump."




Yes, you read that right. 220 m above the ground, that is just a trifle over 710 feet. A body would free fall for 7.5 seconds and attain a maximum speed of 120km/hr. And all I needed to bring was 'courage to jump' (they conveniently forgot to mention the money). They also forgot one more thing. Copious doses of stupidity.

Now, it's common knowledge that stupidity is something God gifted me in abundance with, so I seriously considered doing the jump. It didn't help matters when during the Rafting Weekend (to which i will dedicate an entirely different post later) in Interlaken I heard about a fatal jump in which the 'professional jump masters' used a 180 m cord for a 100 m jump. Me and a good friend, Tony , made a pact. Each would do the jump if the other did. Unfortunately, he didn't make it to the list of participants in the weekend and his registration died a silent death in the waiting list (hmmm...is that poultry I smell?). Now it was all up to me. Unfortunately, God was also responsible for making me a top rated wimp. I sat on the fence for the longest possible time, until after a strenuous trek, dam safely hidden from view I handed over my money. I even borrowed some of it from Emma. I would have normally taken that as a sign from God to let sanity prevail and not jump. I am still to discover what trance I was in then. I suspect dehydration and hypoglycemia were the culprits.

A few steps up lead to a birds-eye view of the dam. I got up there and the first words out of my mouth were,' F*^#K! I paid the money. What have i got myself into now!' As I signed the release form, which basically exempted the company from any responsibility if I were to die or become a useless vegetable I silently cursed the 'land divers' of Vanuatu, young men,responsible for inspiring the invention of this deadly sport, who jumped from wooden platforms with vines tied to their feet as a test of their courage(and of course, stupidity). Finally, after a wait that lasted almost forever I was finally saddled up to a wide assortment of ropes and hooks. I was given some initial instructions and asked to repeat a few exercises. I made an absolute fool of myself and thought of quitting then and there, but braved on. I thought of my school motto , "Courage is Destiny". Would it be my destiny to have my life come to a crashing halt due to a crushing blow at the foot of a dam? If my school motto was anything to go by, that could very well be.

They asked me to step up to the platform. I did. I tried to look nonchalant, as cool as a cucumber. To everyone else, the sight of me tapping my heels like a 'stud macha' seemed like I was waiting impatiently to jump. In reality, inside me emotions were boiling over. There I was, about to free fall more than 700 feet, with the only thing preventing me from marmalading myself to the rocks below being a glorified rubber band tied to my lower limbs. The jump master said i should do a full stretch jump. It would look good on the video he said. 'Really?', I thought to myself. I wondered if they would play it at my funeral. 'Should I use these last few moments to choose a song to be played at the service as well?'.

The previous jumper had been reeled in. It was my turn now to take that leap of faith. Out of nowhere came this sea of calm that swept through me. I think my brain just switched off. ' 3....2....1', I remember the jump master said, but I don't remember jumping. I could see my shadow descending rapidly down on the dam wall, but I couldn't feel myself falling. Not until the cord extended and jerked at my leg. On my second bounce I let out a scream. Not out of fear, I was ecstatic. I was flying. Before I knew it, my body had bounced 4-5 times, like a yo-yo, and I was reeled back in. The jump was over. My experimentation with 'Learning to Fly' done.

Thanks to Sarah I have this lovely video of me doing 'the jump'. It's a real stunner. A good old-fashioned girly scream in the background would have been nice though. If I ever make a Hollywood movie I'll ask Sarah to direct it. If you ever make a Hollywood movie you should ask Sarah to direct it. She'll do it for as little as the loaning to her of a good book. Talking about movies, if any of the Bond producers happen to be reading this. When you get bored of old Danny boy and want a new 007, give me a ring. I don't have a funny accent. Plus I do my own stunts...





And if you want to watch how Bond did it in Goldeneye :