May Day, May Day ... our first riot

Last week we had a holiday. Well, much of the world did. It's called International Worker's Day and according to Wikipedia: May Day commonly sees organized street demonstrations by millions of working people and their labour unions throughout most of the countries of the world though rarely in the US and Canada. Communist and anarchist organizations and their affiliated unions universally conduct street marches on this day.

What fun! I had read about the rioting in previous years on an ex-pat forum I frequent but truthfully didn't think much of it, as many people said that any 'action' seemed to be focused on the more seedy areas of town. (Zurich's seedy area is what one might call 'hip' in any other city.)

As is always the case when many different people weigh in on an issue, the on-line forum contained varying degrees of panic, warnings and dismissal regarding May Day. I was amused to read that some people were staying home with windows shut, shades drawn and doors locked while others, writing enthusiastically of rubber bullets, tear gas and giant water cannons, were hoping to find the action and perhaps even become involved in the day's activities.

From what I've gathered, those that historically start the riots are not even from Zurich. They're thugs from surrounding areas who come into town to cause a fracas and get everyone all riled up. One woman said that in certain areas, you are encouraged to leave beer on your doorstep as a peace offering to discourage them from taking and/or breaking your things. What the heck kind of riot tactic is that? Sounds more like Halloween trick or treat to me...

So on this day off, May 1st, (Happy Birthday, Andrew Cheney) Mark and I set out on an adventure that began as we went to look at some second-hand furniture at the BrockiHaus near the train station. (He was in and out of there in 10 minutes. I have been known to spend an entire afternoon at this one in particular - remember the free chair?!)

Since we were in the area, I asked him to show me where the apartment was that we had 'gotten' then 'lost'. A few months ago, just before I arrived, when it looked as though it was going to become our home, he had assured me it was on the 'good' end of the red light district... (This is the place near the only Hooters in Switzerland that I mentioned in my last post.)

As we walked along, I immediately recognized why this area might be called 'seedy'. But not necessarily in a bad way - I must admit that seeing some diversity in Zurich was a welcome sight. (it's not at bad as NH, but...)Not only was the crowd much more racially diverse but there was more noise, more trash on the sidewalk and in the street, people just hanging out smoking, fast food restaurants, bars with happy hours, head shops, peep shows, massage parlors ... you get the picture. But it was great. V. much alive, and filled with energy. I wish my mom had experienced this - she commented on the fact that it felt a bit like the people here (even the kids) were on Prozac ...

As we headed away from the strip joints and The Macarena Club, we heard the sound of a bull horn. It got louder as we approached the block where the apartment was. I looked at Mark expecting that he, as the one who had been here for much longer than I and spoke the language, would know what the heck it was. I didn't have to wait for an answer - as we walked up from under a small overpass, there it was - a riot! (Truthfully it was more of a standoff at this point) We had stumbled upon the famed riot!

I was a little apprehensive but had to check it out. We weren't as flagrant in our voyeurism as many others who kept getting closer and closer to the riot gear-clad police, testing them and taking videos and photos, but we still were there watching and waiting. It was a little other worldly, actually. I mean, I've seen machine gun-armed men in airports, rebels in the jungle in Malaysia and militia hiking down the face of a snow-covered mountain in Yugoslavia, but I was just a tourist then - on my way to or from or just passing through for a few days - I live here.

I wanted to know what this was all about and why. I knew the basic jist, but that made little sense to me played out like this and the language barrier made it even more frustrating. Mark could not even understand, as they were communicating in heavily accented Swiss German.

There were several tank-like trucks (photo above) that M. told me were water trucks. (He also told me that it would hurt a lot if we happened to get invoved in the mele ...)

After standing and watching and listening for about 20 minutes, we decided we were bored and I still wanted to see exactly where the apartment we lost was. Turned out it was smack dab across from the small park where the protesters were. Of course.

As we circumvented the 'action' I saw what appeared to be a giant flea market on the far end of said park. As you can imagine, riot or no riot - I wanted in. (And likely people would be making sweet deals if they were fearing for their lives, right?) Somehow M. talked me out of it. I just know there were some awesome buys there - things I really needed. And that stays with you for days when you've missed out on something like that, you know?

I never did get to see the apartment ... so after all that excitement, I convinced M. to go see Once with me. Yes, the v. same movie I had just spent 12 CHF to see just 3 days earlier. (And now it would be 18 CHF each!) I'd never gone to see the same movie in a theatre in the same week before - I really felt compelled to see it again and to watch him watch it.

My biggest challenge was to keep my yap shut when the best parts were coming up and not to hum along with the songs. I succeeded for the most part and was only slightly let down when he was not as blown over by it as I was. He liked it. A lot. But it's hard for something to live up to its reputation when you have me gushing about it. I can be a bit dramatic. ("It is the BEST film I have seen in sooo long! I cried - it was so amazing. You HAVE to see it. You of all people will love and appreciate it sooo much - trust me!")

What a day. About the only thing this May Day did not have was a pole with colored ribbons and cute, little dressed up kids running around it. (Why do they do that again?)