It is as expensive as it was years ago. But Switzerland’s most famous city is showing signs of disparity that it hadn’t seen before
Geneva, the capital of French part of Switzerland, overlooks Lake Geneva that emits out to form a huge lagoon, in the shape of a big pond, from the River Rhone, amidst higher gradient mountain ranges.
A beautiful, clean, neat city, set in perfect harmony with the Swiss concepts of ecology, Geneva is spanned with connecting bridges, spread on both sides of the flowing blue waters of ‘La Rhone’. Green meadows line the banks of the River Rhone. Gardens full of flowers abound, providing lungs to the environment, even along the edifices of the Rue de Rhone with unending file of Mercedes, Volvos and expensive cars that is a picture of money and wealth of Geneva.
Last year, during my four-day stay in the city, I stayed at the Eden Hotel, which is at the far end of the Rue de Lausanne. The room I stayed in was simply excellent. I could view the breath taking, simply out of this world Botanical Gardens that are adjacent to the hotel. Among the many attractions of this park, there is a working clock affixed on the grounds, inlaid among flowers and foliage.
Geneva has many platitudes. The headquarters of the Union Bank of Switzerland (UBS), are present in an eighteenth century mansion of a French baron on Rue de Rhone. It was in these premises that the UBS opened a hundred years ago and is today synonymous with secured, secret deposits, associated with numbered accounts where various currencies of the world keep accumulating in its vaults.
I first visited Geneva in the July of 1954 when as a freshman at the American University of Beirut, I represented the institution at the Moral Re-Armament Conference. I was rendered indoctrination of the four absolutes, honesty, purity, love and unselfishness while housed in the lap of comfort in the luxurious rooms of Mountain House. We were treated with strawberry and cream, in the restaurants, besides the Lac, as the tourist resort was translated in French. Egyptian Prince Ismail Hassan, the paternal uncle of the exiled Egyptian King Farouk, had delegates, numbering one hundred from all over the world, for a four course extravaganza dinner at Hotel de la Paix, on the water front. Geneva was then more French than France, or more Catholic than the Pope as goes the cliche. The spoken language was then essentially, French.
CHANGED ORDER:Over the years, during my periodical visits to Geneva, I have noticed a huge influx of blue collar Arabs from former French speaking, colonies of Tunisia, Algeria and Morocco. So much so that Arabic, in now in vogue in Geneva and has taken over as the second language from German and English. Rue de Lausanne and the adjacent ‘Gare’ (Railway Station), is afloat with Arabic signboards, along with French, affixed on restaurants and shops. Middle Eastern tourists, diplomats, in the Arabic ‘agal’ and ‘kufia’ can be seen everywhere in Geneva. Expatriate Arabs in Geneva hold senior managerial posts in various banking and business organizations. One such person I got to know intimately, was the good Dr Khalid Kiwarre of Pharmacie de la Trinte from Khartoum who voluntarily treated me for arthritis, by prescribing potent tablets. Khalid told me that he came to Geneva as a student, remained there after he had graduated, married a Swiss girl and today has a son who he has appropriately endowed with the name of Mohammed.
Footloose Pakistanis have also not been left behind in their purposes. For example there is Aqal Nawaz Khan from Lahore. He stays in Geneva and runs an antique, souvenirs cum watch shop Alcomer on 28 Rue de Lausanne. He delights in speaking with visiting Indians and Pakistanis in his native Punjabi. Central Asians akin to my friend Sulieman Khan, an Ismaili refugee from Uzbekistan have Geneva their home. He owes it to the late Prince Sadruddin for getting him a work permit. Sulieman is the Assistant Food and Catering Manager at Royal Hotel.
During my periodical visits to Geneva, I make my rounds in the night at the Pussy Cat, Velvet Club and Maxim Cabarets. In 1988 and 1990, I recall being over whelmed, passionately, by a German cabaret girl Diana Becker, from Heidelberg, who performed under the signature of Alaska. She occupied one of the rooms of the adjacent apartment block. Alaska was infatuated to me because she confessed in her teens, she had had a Turkish, Muslim lover. However, she ended up estranged because she refused to be browed under by Muslim, male chauvinistic attitudes to their women.
Alaska was in her early twenties, young very pretty and I was in my late fifties. I found her most engaging. Alaska was always smiling with spontaneous gestures, had silken hair, soft, wrinkle free, natural skin that was most alluring.
ZAMANA BADAL GAYA:During the last two trips to Geneva, for the first time, in the fifty years that I have been visiting the city, I saw young boys and girls, with their mongrels on leash, seeking alms, begging at the Gare and Rue de Rhone. The latter is the centre of Swiss banking and contains the most expensive shops and restaurants of Europe. “Zamana badal gaya” I recalled a quote from my father as I thought that father must certainly be amused in his grave, at the changing times in prosperous Geneva. The Swiss idlers, seeking handouts, refuse to turn away when threatened by authorities. They claim Rue de Rhone their inalienable preserve, though on the same Rue de Rhone in the Movenpick Restaurant, Afghan, Pakistani, Indian, Ceylonese boys are serving as waiters and kitchen help. While in Geneva, I made my haunt at the same night club where Alaska used to burn the floor. French or German artistes have been substituted by very young, Romanian, Polish and Russian girls. I made an acquaintance with a Ukrainian Oksana who performed under the nom-deplume of Sandra. She was nothing like Alaska. Oksana was barely literate in English, spoke only Russian. Night life in Geneva has become expensive, very expensive.
On my last day in the city, I was invited by an Indian actress, related to me, for lunch to Montreux. But before boarding my plane home, I took the train to Caux. There, in the cool of the afternoon, the Mountain House is very much present. However, the Moral Re-Armament is over; Mountain House has been converted into apartments and has been sold to long staying Arabs.
It is as expensive as it was years ago. But Switzerland’s most famous city is showing signs of disparity that it hadn’t seen before
Over the years, during my periodical visits to Geneva, I have noticed a huge influx of blue collar Arabs from former French speaking, colonies of Tunisia, Algeria and Morocco. So much so that Arabic, in now in vogue in Geneva and has taken over as the second language from German and English. Rue de Lausanne and the adjacent ‘Gare’ (Railway Station), is afloat with Arabic signboards, along with French, affixed on restaurants and shops. Middle Eastern tourists, diplomats, in the Arabic ‘agal’ and ‘kufia’ can be seen everywhere in Geneva. Expatriate Arabs in Geneva hold senior managerial posts in various banking and business organizations. One such person I got to know intimately, was the good Dr Khalid Kiwarre of Pharmacie de la Trinte from Khartoum who voluntarily treated me for arthritis, by prescribing potent tablets. Khalid told me that he came to Geneva as a student, remained there after he had graduated, married a Swiss girl and today has a son who he has appropriately endowed with the name of Mohammed.
During the last two trips to Geneva, for the first time, in the fifty years that I have been visiting the city, I saw young boys and girls, with their mongrels on leash, seeking alms, begging at the Gare and Rue de Rhone. The latter is the centre of Swiss banking and contains the most expensive shops and restaurants of Europe. “Zamana badal gaya” I recalled a quote from my father as I thought that father must certainly be amused in his grave, at the changing times in prosperous Geneva. The Swiss idlers, seeking handouts, refuse to turn away when threatened by authorities. They claim Rue de Rhone their inalienable preserve, though on the same Rue de Rhone in the Movenpick Restaurant, Afghan, Pakistani, Indian, Ceylonese boys are serving as waiters and kitchen help. While in Geneva, I made my haunt at the same night club where Alaska used to burn the floor. French or German artistes have been substituted by very young, Romanian, Polish and Russian girls. I made an acquaintance with a Ukrainian Oksana who performed under the nom-deplume of Sandra. She was nothing like Alaska. Oksana was barely literate in English, spoke only Russian. Night life in Geneva has become expensive, very expensive.
