Vogelperspektive

My ipad is marking the following word as an error, but I am taking the liberty to create this past tense verb, because I just spent the last half hour up in the crisp air right next to the Matterhorn. We came, we saw, we paraglided!

 Anne had mentioned wanting to paraglide somewhere in Switzerland, but we weren't sure we would have the opportunity to do so. We had made plans yesterday at the chocolate factory for Kuno to meet Miryam, Anne, and I at the train station to head down to Zermatt.  Upon arriving to the touristy town, however, we looked up information from various places and quickly settled on one. We were told to return in 45 minutes, so we walked around, trying to mask our hunger and promising each other not to be nervous. When it was finally time to go back, we were quickly ushered by our pilots into the tram leading the way to one of the higher peaks close to the Matterhorn.  Anne was excited but nervous; Miryam was excited and nervous, and me? I was nothing. I wasn't letting myself think anything regarding what I was about to do. I had thought about it objectively when I made my decision, tons of people have done this, there are safety concerns but you cannot choose not to do this. It is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you have to remember what your friends told you back in Köln: take every adventure you can! Once I made my decision, I told myself there no going back. And so I didn't think about it, didn't think how nervous I was, didn't let myself ask myself how I was. 

Suddenly, there I was, standing at the edge of a mountain, with gear strapped all over my torso and limbs, with my instructor and co-pilot, Phil, giving me instructions about take-off. "We're going to do some walking steps, then some jogging, and then we'll just jog off the mountain." Easy enough I thought, imagining us taking a great leap off the sturdy ground and into the air. "Take no leaps. Don't think about jumping, because we'll be in trouble then," Phil cautioned. So no jumping then, got it. 

In less than two minutes, we were strapped in and checking the gusts. At one point, Phil gave the ropes a small tug and managed to get the glider up in the air. I was pulled back as the glider caught a wind gusts drifting us backwards, and for a second I thought about what it would feel like to be in the air, unprepared. Then, that thought was stripped from my mind as Phil yelled, "Now!"

We walked a couple of feet, and then I followed his instructions to run. For a second I thought about how Anne and Miryam were still on the ground sitting, listening to instructions being repeated multiple times, talking about take offs and landings, talking about what each of the ropes managed to do. The. I realized I was about to run off a cliff straight into mountain air, and I figured I best pay attention. As we covered those last few feet running, I took a look at the scenery before me and was just floored. The mountains stretched out before me in beautiful and strong hues: blinding whites, sea blues, the green of the trees as they rose up from the side of the mountain, and the jagged edges of the mountain cliffs offering up dark browns, grays, and even blacks. "I'm running into that," I thought. "I'm running into the air," I quickly corrected myself. 

Before I knew what was happening, my feet were no longer hitting the ground as they ran, they were simply pedaling the air. I had now become just like a bird, working with my co-pilot to use the gusts of wind to propel us up into higher altitudes. I suddenly felt as if I weighed very little, but the force of the the wind left me speechless, and I simply took in the sounds of the rushing air as it collided with our glider and moved us up and forward. Phil was great at explaining the different gusts and how we were using them to keep us moving upward and moving forward in general. We circled our mountain and I saw that we were the only gliding pair. 

As we circled the mountain and took several dips down, I suddenly became very aware of the fact that besides the glider, nothing was keeping me from colliding with the ground. I was completely dependent of the wind gusts and how we were planning on manipulating them to give us enough force to stay in the air. I was afraid for a minute, I will admit, as this realization came to me, but then I surprised myself yet again when I decided to concentrate on the fact that this vulnerability only made me even more like a bird, and I recalled one of my favorite words from my first semester of German a few years back: Vogelperspektive. This is exactly what I was experiencing just now, and the worry that had tried to creep into my mind was expelled with the rush of this feeling of freedom I suddenly felt. 

"Take the reigns!" Phil shouted. Reaching upward, I took hold of the handles that control the glider, and it was my turn to decide where we would go. Pulling downward in the right handle, we slowly began turning to the right. "It's coming up I can feel them; is this is yes or no?" Phil asked, and I knew exactly what he was talking about. We had mentioned no big dips on account of my getting dizzy easily, but I knew Phil was tempting me with some other form of thrilling adventure. 

"Let's do it," I whispered. Even with the strong gusts of wind we were lost in, Phil heard me and yelled, "Go, go!" I pulled with even greater force on the right handle, seeing how the gusts were coming from the left. In a matter of seconds we had pulled from a calm stream into the rush of circling gusts by the side of the mountain. Our glider slowly went from being above us to almost achieving a parallel horizontal plane with us, and off we went, into dizzying but quite thrilling spins right above the river that flows near the banks of the Matterhorn. The colors of the landscape had now become a blur; and all I could see was the bright color of our glider against colorful flurry of color. The feeling of being lightweight and being carried by the wind was just enough for me, while I knew that at any moment I could pull back on the left handle to get us out of the rushing winds. I laughed and shrieked in amazement at letting myself experience this rush of adrenaline. I was no longer controlling the glider against the wind, I was using it and taking up space within the gusts just like a bird would. The feeling was freeing on so many levels, and I found myself not thinking anything again, just feeling. 

"Yes!" Phil shouted as after I happily followed his instructions to pull back, "You are amazing! No one has held control for that long in a flurry for that long!" Phil seemed quite pleased with his student, and I have to say I was quite surprised by the student. Never, ever, in a million years would I have thought I would be flying in the air on this last day of June. I told myself this month would be filled of me taking on new challenges and adventures, embracing any opportunity I had to experience something different. I had hoped it would be more along the lines of tasting new food (check, with the octopus), being calm and reasonable with plans abruptly changing (one word: Düsseldorf), dealing with my own fatigue and speaking up more for myself, all things I have done up to this point in our trip. Never would I have thought to simply nod my head and casually mutter an "ok" in response to Anne's, "Let's go paragliding!" Being kind and being brave doesn't come easily to me at times. Today, however, as I ran into the air with a glider on my back, I thought of my doubts and worries, those that I've carried with me for years, for months, and others that have become heavier within the last couple of days. I thought about them for a split second, left them up on that mountain cliff, and never once looked back. 

My friends from DF Mexico now relocated in Freiburg. Their move does not mean they felt yesterday's loss any less. As devastated as they were to have their country out of the running, they were all smiles to meet me and tell me we had picked the perfect day to come to Zermatt. 

One of my many horse sightings in Europe. 

Delicious pastries so nicely decorated. I don't know that I'd be guilt free if I tore into these--I mean, if I had the chance to nibble on them. They were so pretty to look at! 

The Matterhorn. 

Alpine Adventures Zermatt. Our before shot. Perhaps we wondered at this moment whether or not we'd all make it to an after shot? 

 

Our co-pilots! This is us attempting to make small talk while really looking for an excuse not to go up. 

Once on the tram up the mountain, Anne looking out into the vast nothingness we would jump into just a few minutes later. 

Right before takeoff, meine Herren und Damen, ich gebe ihnen das Matterhorn. 

Me up in the air! 

My view as I cruised the air with my new pal and co-pilot Phil. 

I saw an entire field of these flowers while up in the air, and I was very excited to find a small patch of them back down on solid ground. I bought a packet of seeds to plant in my garden and have them to remind me of being brave.