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Geneva, Switzerland: A City of ContradictionsBy Stephen Henderson
Upstairs, before entering the restaurant, we’d peeked into the Hotel De Ville’s “Alabama” room. While we ate, Marilynn told me it was named for a Confederate war ship -- built, fitted out and aided by British interests -- which destroyed several Northern merchant ships during the American Civil War. In 1871, the United States sued Great Britain for damages, and a tribunal of neutral countries who met here in Geneva awarded the U.S. over fifteen million dollars. To this day, law students are taught that this is history’s first international arbitration for a war crime.
Marilynn gave a chuckle of assent, just as our waiter arrived with an excessive mound of chocolate mousse. We’d already dined on wonderful, crusty bread, an excellent local white wine, and a fricassee of pork served with noodles. Spa cuisine it was not – so I shuddered while looking at our (just?) desserts. Deep brown and quivering, it appeared the heart of darkness. Regarding chocolate as frightening was something I’d never experienced before and it seemed a uniquely Genevan moment. For this city is slightly unnerving in how boldly it juggles extremes. Though renowned for the high-minded headquarters of the United Nations and the International Red Cross, Geneva is infamous for the low-down funk of its bustling red light district. Look more closely, and the contradictions only mount. Sleek office towers soar next to squat structures built in the Heimat style – which is basically the Hansel and Gretel School of architecture with gingerbread detailing and shingled, mansard roofs. Geneva is somehow both town and country, simultaneously cunning and cute. Here, you can shop for a Swiss Army knife while sipping Heidiland bottled water. I picked up my spoon, trying to shake off my foul mood. It’s only chocolate, I told myself. Are you a man or a mousse? Still, I paused. “Marilynn, doesn’t it seem odd to you that Geneva thrives during both war and peace?” She nodded up towards the Swiss-made clock hanging on the wall above our heads. “It’s cuckoo.” Only Natural to be Neutral
This December 11, in fact, will mark the 400 anniversary of a night in 1602 when armies of the Italian House of Savoy, under the leadership of Duke Charles Emmanuel, attempted to seize Geneva. The duke planned his conquest for months and even had special ladders with felt-covered wheels made, so they could be rolled silently into place alongside city fortifications in the dead of night. In what sounds like slapstick comedy, an insomniac housewife saw a Savoiard soldier attempting to scale the city’s walls, and felled him by dumping a pot of hot soup on his head. Thus, the Fete de l’Escalade is celebrated each year with Genevans dressed in period costume, marching through old town with torches, and yes, soup pots.
“French and German speaking Swiss hate each other,” said David Chesner, the proprietor of Contre Jour, a popular new nightclub, said to me one evening. “That’s because the French are arrogant, and the Germans are peasants.” His vitriol surprised me. Because of Switzerland’s much-vaunted geopolitical neutrality, I’d assumed all Swiss were peace-loving, live-and-let-live types. Yet, here again, contradictions are revealed. Geneva’s citizens don’t think of themselves as Swiss. They are, quite simply, Genevoise. For many centuries, this isolated stance has served the city well, as Geneva has employed its neutrality to establish itself as the world’s arbitration center. This is obvious when one visits the city’s so-called “International Area.” Walking there one morning, I passed an enormous wooden statue of a chair with a shattered and missing front leg. It is an artistic statement against landmines – a true horror of modern warfare as it continues to destroy communities long after any particular conflict ends. You’ll recall this was one of Princess Diana’s causes and, sadly, the world’s concern seems to have died along with her.
Since its establishment, the Red Cross (a symbol that is actually just a color reverse of the Swiss national flag, which is red with a white cross), has been involved in conflicts on every continent many times over. Indeed, circling the walls of this sobering, yet slickly, high-tech museum, there is a time line listing all wars and health epidemics that have erupted since 1864. It makes for grim reading. On a more optimistic note, nearby is the Palais de Nations, a building originally designed to house the League of Nations. Championed by Woodrow Wilson at the end of World War I, the League of Nations was meant to assure that earth’s people would never go to war again. Constructed between 1929 and 1936, the Palais de Nations was finished, ironically, just as World War II was starting. Though officially headquartered in Manhattan, the United Nations (which subsumed the League of Nations in 1946) now conducts much of its business at this site in Geneva, which hosts some 7,000 conferences each year. The saying here is that “New York does all the talking, Geneva does all the work.” After showing my passport, a guided tour took me through the Council Chamber and Assembly Hall. Funny how the “prop” in propaganda can still work its magic. As I toured this almost theatrically imposing building, with dazzling views overlooking Lac Leman, and its halls decorated with triumphant artwork, I began to feel more hopeful about America’s hawkish stance towards Iraq. After all, isn’t globalism just another way of saying “we are all in this together?” Perhaps, one of these diplomats rushing about so purposefully – you, sir, wearing the fez? -- could yet figure out a way to make Saddam and Dubya share the same sand box. A growing sense of optimism stayed with me as I wandered through the nearby Botanical Garden, 69 splendid acres that include cathedral-like hothouses, rock gardens with Alpine plants, a deer park, and – most unexpectedly – a lily pond brilliant with a flock of pink flamingoes. Built around the garden’s perimeter are a variety of specialized agencies such as The World Health Organization, the World Trade Organization, even the World Council of Churches. “Geneva has a different intellectual atmosphere, I believe, than could be achieved anywhere else on the planet,” said Dr. D. A. Henderson, a professor at Johns Hopkins University and an advisor to Tommy Thompson, the United States Secretary of Health and Human Services. Dr. Henderson, who lived in Geneva for several years, believes that transient sojourns by the world’s ablest thinkers fosters an unusual degree of collegueality. “In another town, where there might be one international organization, visitors would be marginalized from the indigenous population. But, because of Geneva’s preponderance of foreign visitors and dignitaries, it is fundamentally a friendly environment.” You can experience some of this global vibe by having lunch at the World Meteorological Organization. Its headquarters is a clear, blue oval – evoking, perhaps, the eye of the storm? – where the top floor is a delightful cafeteria with moderately priced food and an exorbitant view. On a clear day, you can see Mont Blanc in the distance – Europe’s tallest mountain. All the World in One neighborhood
More outre diversions are found in Paquis, too, such as a strip of gaudy cabarets where the “dancers” are actually prostitutes. Finally, there are exotic salons such as Chez Leyla where one can slouch on low sofas and sample tobacco flavored with different dried fruits and spices, by smoking a water pipe. If you’ve forgotten that the crocodile in Disney’s “Alice in Wonderland” is fond of this pastime, many shops have him painted on their windows as a cheerfully louche reminder. After a night in Geneva’s Paquis, I felt a bit like Alice, fallen down the rabbit hole. So, I floated back to my hotel, and went to bed. Off to Meet Mr. CalvinThe next morning, I walked along the shores of Lac Leman where Geneva’s grandest hotels like the Beau-Rivage, the Rochemont, the Hotel de La Paix are clustered. There are fifteen five-star hotels in all, a disproportionately high number for a city with less than 200,000 residents. Straight ahead was the Jet D’Eau, a giddy excess of Swiss engineering that from March to November shoots a plume of water over 400 feet into the air. Off-season, the crowds were sparse. From mid-July to the end of August, however, the shore’s promenades are packed with Arabs fleeing the heat of a Saudi summer. Osama Bin Laden’s brother, Jaslem, is a frequent visitor. As is King Fad, who has a house in Cologny, a particularly affluent neighborhood, which boasts an underground garage capable of housing 40 cars and sufficient bedrooms to accommodate his sizeable retinue of 200 princes. In this same district, the poets Byron and Shelley, as well Mary Wollstonecraft, were once in residence at the Villa Diodotti, which is still standing, and marked by a small plaque. It was there, in fact, during the chilly spring of 1831 that Wollstonecraft wrote her classic novel, Frankenstein. Headed across the bridge towards Old Town, I thought of how Dr. Frankenstein’s monster rebels, and behaves in a manner quite opposite to that intended by his creator. It occurred to me that Geneva has revolted in much the same way towards John Calvin, the 16th century theologian and reformer. To call him a favorite son is a considerable understatement. Visit the Wall of Reformers in the Parc des Bastions – by far the city’s grandest monument -- and you’ll see massive sculptures of Calvin and his disciples amassed before a nearly 300 foot long display of Geneva’s motto: Post Tenebras Lux (After Darkness, Light). This implies that Calvin ushered in a new dawn, by severing ties with Rome. Starting in 1536, he created the first public school to offer free education so all could read Holy Scriptures on their own. He also instituted sumptuary laws that banned all indulgent displays of wealth. See what Geneva sacrificed in the name of Protestantism, take a quick spin through St. Pierre which, when still a Catholic church, preened with 24 side altars, and a nave aglow with gilding and frescoes. Calvin removed all this, till St. Pierre’s interior was gray as a mortician’s suit. Or, stand in the Bourges de Fours, which is Old Town’s main, though tiny, plaza, and look at the house numbered 14. Built in the 15th century, before Calvin arrived, it has a certain gothic flair. Now look at the buildings that flanking it on either side. See how plain and unadorned the doorways and fenestrations are? This is “Calvin-style,” long before Calvin Klein turned minimalism into a chic decorating concept. “John Calvin lived at a time when theology was considered more important than philosophy or politics,” said Wolfgang Wackernagel, who hosts a popular talk show on Geneva’s Radio Suisse Romande. “He could dictate fashions of the times – or, more precisely, the absence thereof – because people felt Calvin spoke with divine authority.” Perhaps. Make a law, though, and people will find a way to bend it. For instance, because Calvin felt timeliness was next to Godliness (a quintessentially Swiss notion, if ever there was one) he made one exception to his “no frills” lifestyle: watches and clocks were allowed. Stop by the Patek-Philippe Museum, and you’ll see how quickly local craftsmen skirted the sumptuary laws by making ever-more elaborate time-pieces. Today, in fact, throughout Geneva, Calvin’s name is nearly elbowed aside by mammoth neon billboards for such timely names as Vaucheron-Constantin, Ebel, and Longines. I pondered this irony at lunch at the Hotel Des Armures, where a stone-walled cellar restaurant serves raclette, a Swiss specialty that is a half of a wheel of cheese, put into an iron cradle and held close to a flame. As the cheese oozes and melts, it is scraped off onto a plate and served with a potato and a pickle. Think of it as a grilled cheese sandwich, without the bread. Post Tenebras Lux. After Darkness, Light. Curiously enough, in today’s understanding of this phrase, the “darkness” is now Calvinism, and the “light” is Geneva’s highly refined form of connoisseurship. Wandering through the narrow cobble-stoned streets in and around Old Town, I discovered incredible used bookstores, antique shops, and art galleries, all of which seemed quite deliberately understocked. Calvin’s credo of “don’t have” seems to have morphed into “only have what is absolutely exquisite.” You’ll find this theory corroborated, too, at the Barbier-Mueller Museum, with its incomparable collection of art works from Africa, India, Latin America, or the Petit Palais museum of Oscar Ghez, who parlayed a fortune made in rubber into a world-class collection of modern art from Renoir to Picasso. In both these jewel box museums, unimaginable treasures are displayed in groupings of two or three, seldom more. “It’s estimated that only three-percent of Geneva’s art is on display at any one time,” my friend Marilynn had told me. This astonishing claim only made sense after being in this alluring and, yes, cuckoo town for a few days. Because the world’s life and death decisions are made here every day, luxury must somehow be made to appear low-key. In Geneva, all consumption is encouraged -- just as long as it isn’t conspicuous. Getting There:There is no non-stop flight from BWI to Geneva. However, on Swiss International Airlines, you can from Washington Dulles to Zurich, and change planes there for Geneva. 1-877-359-7947, www.swiss.com Or, on American Airlines, you can fly from BWI to New York’s JFK, and then take a Swiss International flight directly to Geneva. 1-800-433-7300, www.aa.com LodgingLes Armures, 1 Rue du Puits-St. Pierre, 022/3109172, www.hotel-les-armures.ch Small luxurious hotel in the heart of Old Town, rates from $320. Beau-Rivage, 13 quai du Mont-Blanc, 022/7166666, www.beau-rivage.ch. One of the grandest of Geneva’s five-star hotels. Enormous baths, dramatic decorating, overlooking Lac Leman, rates from $395. ActivitiesInternational Red Cross Museum, 17 Ave. de la Paix, 022/7489525. State of the art technology proves that war is hell. Open Wednesday through Monday, 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Palais de Nations, 14 Ave. de la Paix, 022/9074896, www.unog.ch. European headquarters of the United Nations. Visiting hours vary throughout year, so call ahead. Botanical Garden, 1 Chemin de l’Imperatrice. 022/4185100. An oasis of landscaped bliss. Open daily, 9:30 a.m. through 5 p.m. Patek Philippe Museum, 7 Rue des Vieux-Grenadiers, 022/8070910, www.patekmuseum.com. Time flies, so you’d better watch yourself. Tuesday through Friday, 2 p.m. through 5 p.m.; Saturdays, 10 a.m. through 5 p.m. Musee Barbier-Mueller, 10 Rue de Jean-Calvin, 022/3120270, www.barbier-mueller.ch. Exquisite collection of African and Oceanic arts. Mondays through Saturdays, 10 a.m. through 6 p.m. The 400th Anniversary of the “Escalade” – December 13 through 15. Period costumes and a torch light parade through Old Town. www.compagniede1062.ch. Castle of Chillon, 021/9668910, www.chillon.ch. One of Europe’s finest medieval castles in Montreux, which is an easy, hour-long train ride from Geneva. DiningCafé Papon, 1 Rue Henry-Fazy, 022/3115428. Classic Swiss dining in a stone-walled basement hideaway; entrees $14 – 20. Café Leyla, 35 Rue des Paquis, 022/7310941. Holy hookah! Here’s the spot to pretend you’re an international man, or woman, of mystery. Light dining, coffee, cocktails and flavored tobacco; from $8 - $15. Le Comptoir, 9 Rue de Richemont, 022/733237. Groovy crowd, Asian-French fusion cuisine; entrees $12 - $18. Café Des Bains, 26 Rues des Bains, 022/3215798. Sleek, chic décor and faultless seafood; entrees from $18 - $24. Café des Negociants, 29 Rue de la Filature, 022/3003105. The in-spot in Carouge, Geneva’s hottest neighborhood. Words of AdviceGeneva is an extremely expensive city, so eat light at lunch and save your calories and Swiss francs for dinner. If you walk everywhere (the city is tiny), you can avoid taxis altogether – your wallet and coronary arteries will be appreciative. For More Information An Ideal Day9:00 a.m.: Have coffee and a croissant at your hotel restaurant. Yes, she is adorable, but resist thinking of your waitress as a “Swiss Miss.” 10: 00 a.m.: Give peace a chance by visiting the International Red Cross Museum and the Palais de Nations. 12 noon: Saunter through the Paquis neighborhood, and pick up a lamb kebab sandwich to go. Eat this as you continue walking to Old Town (the Ville Vielle). 1 p.m.: Tour the place du Bourg-de-Fours, the Cathedrale St. Pierre, and Monument de la Reformation. Wander the charming cobble-stoned streets of Old Town which are filled with antique shops and art galleries. 6 p.m.: Take the waters at Les Bain des Paquis, public baths built off a rock jetty in Lac Leman. There’s swimming in warm weather; a year-round sauna, when it’s chilly. 8:00 p.m.: Ride Geneva’s trolley for ten minutes to Carouge, a perfectly intact neighborhood of 18th century townhouses that’s charming beyond belief. Have dinner at Café de Negotiants. 11:00 p.m.: O.K., just this once, you’re allowed to splurge on a taxi back to your hotel. 12 midnight: Light’s out. You’re going to be up early for a train to Montreux, to see the Castle of Chillon. -- Stephen G. Henderson |
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Earlier this fall, I ate lunch at Café Papon, which is
underneath the Hotel De Ville, or Town Hall, in the oldest neighborhood of
Geneva, Switzerland. My dining companion was a good friend, Marilynn
Geiger, a Connecticut native who’s lived in Geneva for almost thirty years.
Since I was visiting Geneva in early October, just as
the White House was accelerating its case against Saddam Hussein, hearing
this made the city seem to me a Parnassus of peace-keeping. “Wouldn’t it be
nice if America could settle its grievances here so tidily with Iraq?” I
asked.
Nearly surrounded on all its borders by France, Geneva
sits at the point where Switzerland’s largest Alpine lake, Lac Leman,
narrows down to the Rhone River. Islands in the stream have allowed
crossings to be built here from earliest recorded history, so invasions were
constantly feared and fought. 
Geneva, a French-speaking city, has something of an
island mentality and feels little kinship with Zurich, less than a two hour
train ride away, where German is spoken.
Land mines aside, those who think there is any “glory”
in war should visit the International Red Cross Museum and learn the story
of Henry Dunant, a Geneva businessman who founded this esteemed humanitarian
organization. In June of 1859, Dunant traveled to Solferino, Italy, hoping
to arrange a meeting with the then-emperor, Napoleon III. Instead, he
stumbled across a field in which 40,000 men lay dead or dying after a
one-day skirmish between France and Austria. As was all too common back
then, no provision was made to give medical attention (or even potable
water) to those injured in battle. Shocked by what he saw, on his return to
Geneva, Dunant wrote “A Memory of Solferino,” in which he forcefully argued
for international principles of war. 
The city’s heterogenous vibrancy is especially
noticeable in the Paquis neighborhood, where restaurants – Geneva has more
places to eat, per capita, than does New York City -- serve Japanese sushi,
Middle-Eastern lamb kebabs, and everything in between. Late one evening, I
dined at an Asian-French fusion spot, Le Comptoir, where the crowd is young,
stylish, and the music gets louder and groovier as the night progresses.
Also, well worth visiting is the Sainte Trinite Church, designed by an
Italian architect, Ugo Brunoni, which is shaped like a luminous white
sphere.