World Cup and Purse Snatchers

So the World Cup is on.

To be honest, I’ve never watched a World Cup tournament before. How typically North American of me (excluding Mexico… they are actually very good at football!). So here I am in Switzerland (yes, they qualified too), surrounded by friends who are from many different countries, and football fever is in full effect.

This reminds me of something I wanted to mention. Basel is a very international city. Its unique location at the crossroads of Switzerland, France and Germany, combined with the presence of two of the world’s largest pharmaceutical companies means that 30% of the population are foreigners. My daily interactions include not only Swiss, but Germans, French, Italians, Slovaks, English, Irish, Scottish, Spanish and Americans. Even though we live in Switzerland, our experience is truly an international one.

Now back to the world cup. One of the regular characters in our life is Martin, an English friend of mine who has spent the past nine months indoctrinating me into the cult of football in general, and Manchester United in particular. I was not surprised when he dropped off a pair of kid-sized England jerseys for the twins to wear.

I went to Martin’s place to watch the first match – England vs. USA. Uh oh… this could hurt. Once everyone was assured that I was cheering for England instead of the USA (hey… she’s my Queen too!), the match was underway.

This was heartbreaking…

I gotta admit that, while it was disappointing to see England draw vs US, the match was one of the most entertaining sporting events I’ve seen. Could have been the company – mostly British, with a few Germans and Mexicans thrown in there – but maybe I’m actually learning to love this sport.

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And purse-snatchers?

Yeah. Yesterday we made a trip to France to buy a bicycle for Tasha so that we could make some proper family trips. On the way home we stopped by the main train station in Basel. As we are standing there, we hear a woman cry out and see a young guy running off with a purse, cutting sharply into the crowded main station hall. I gave Tasha my bike and took off after him.

In the crowded area I almost lost him, but I began to shout “Thief! Achtung!” and people made way for me. I was closing the gap quickly and he knew it. I was maybe three metres from him when he ditched the purse and took off out of the station hallways, so I figured that was enough.

I returned the purse to this old lady who was babbling at me in Swiss German, and then headed home. Hero cookie for me!

Criminals and scum, beware!

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