Sunburnt in Bern!

Hello,
We are fresh (I mean it, shortest busking-blogging turnover time ever) from a quick busk in Bern.  But before we get to that, I didn't busk in Paris :(  I reeeally wanted to, for obvious reasons, and I was going to put on my best Amelie smile, hide my English signs, and let tourists think they had stumbled upon a real Parisian accordion player.  I only know three recognizable French songs, in addition to the Amelie soundtrack, but the popularity of the Twin Peaks theme in Europe indicates that that doesn't matter.  The weather was spotty; nice for the most of the day, then rainy in the evenings.  It wasn't particularly cold, and I could easily have gotten a good session in in that regard.  The issue was that I got sick!  I have been battling (ignoring) a little cold for a few weeks, and it just blew up once I got to Paris.  I tried to be a good sport, but in reality I ended up spending most of the weekend horizontal, under the amazing care of my friend Kristin.  (Turns out I had strep, go figure.)  It wouldn't have been a very fun busk.  I'll just have to go back to Paris once I've practiced more songs, anyway!

Now I'm in Switzerland recovering from strep, staying with old friends, and now doing some sightseeing.  I decided to go to Bern for the day, and brought my accordion along at the last minute.  For most of the day it was a big hassle, since I was lugging it over cobblestones, up and down hills, and hauling it over a million little staircases.  Who designed that city anyway.  And it was HOT.  I didn't want to leave it at the train station, since I was sure the perfect pitch would be at the other end of town, if I did that.

After getting my fill of sightseeing, around 3:30, I started looking for a spot.  There wern't a ton of tourists out, and it was hard to find a good spot since most of the people were on the shopping street (boooo).  There was a market, but I didn't want to get too close because I didn't know the laws about it, and vendors are more likely to complain/to know the rules than random passersby.

Finally I decided to head back towards the train station and find a place there, since day-trippers would be catching evening trains, I could just hop on the train when I was done, and there's generally a good hustle and bustle.  I set up on Spitalgasse (not unlike my last week) street in front of a church.  I didn't expect to make any money, and I didn't at first, but I actually did okay.  Paid for my ticket to Bern, at least!  That is the point of busking on the road!  Here's the dirt:

Friday, 27 April, 2012: Bern, Switzerland
1.  It seems the steps in front of the church next to my pitch have a resident drug addict.  I'm so used to them now that they don't even appear on the radar when choosing a spot.  This particular one was chatty, and had the worst teeth I've ever seen.  He had a lot to say, and I smiled and politely said "Wyisdj weoire rpoicjcx ylks," which was supposed to sound like "Ich spreche kein Deutsch."  (Copied that from the internetz, didn't actually memorize it perfectly.)  He kept talking, but included the word "English."  Yes!  English!  Kept speaking German.  Or maybe it was garbled English.  I picked up a few words: Mentality.  Angst.  Dark.  Oh, I guess he's talking about my act?  Over a few "conversations" this was the impression I got, that he thought my act was too heavy.  Or that this area, these passersby, were.  Hm.  He was pretty annoying, and kept getting up to talk.  I was less patient every time.  At first I listened for a minute, nodded, then said, in English, "Sorry, I don't understand you."  An hour later he would get up and I would right away say, "Nope, still not going to understand.  I'm going to keep playing!"  Sometimes he would talk anyway, sometimes he would sit down again and pass out in weird positions.  Once he stood up and kept standing right next to me as I played.  I had to be very assertive and attempt to communicate that he was in my person space, would he please sit down.  Eventually he got it, but not before dropping a bunch of cookie crumbs into my box.  Thankss.  Hey, I prefer that to him taking money out of it.  Finally he gave up on joining my act and having long conversations, so he started just offering me swigs of gin instead.  Of course I accepted; you know all about my combined affinity for sharing spit with dentally-impaired men on drugs and generally drinking straight lukewarm gin (especially while on antibiotics).  Great for my playing.  Anyway, that's as much space as this guy gets, moving on...

2. A couple of other people tried commenting in German, but I wasn't sure if they were determined enough for it to be worth confessing my non-spreche of the language.  I did a lot of nodding and smiling, and delivered my best "danke"s on many occasions.

3. I got so many smiles from elderly people!  Usually they're the ones that don't approve of my career choice (ahemmyowngrandma), and usually avert their eyes and don't reach for their wallets.  This, of course, excludes the types that vacation in Provincetown.  But today in Bern, they were loving it!  Big smiles!  Some tips!

4. One in particular was a clean-cut elderly gentleman who did tip.  Then, he grabbed the flag outside and brought it into the church.  Closing time!  I've now been tipped by the person in charge of a church!

5. I didn't set up Flaca's area, since I didn't know the rules and wanted to keep a relatively low profile.  Also, I had to be able to grab everything and run from the cops, if need be.  She still sat, smiling, in the box, but I didn't give her to the few children who stopped.  I can fake that conversation in French, but didn't seem worth the confusion.  Tanz, puppen, tanz!

6. Once again, I was practicing my one-woman band routine.  This really helps business so much!  I've booked a trip to Tel Aviv, where my friend has promised me markets, so I'm dreaming about all the possibilities for ankle percussion I might find.  I know that's more of a Turkish thing, but hopefully the Israelis will have a tradition of strap-on bells!  It will make it so much easier.  The tambourine just isn't staying put.  It didn't fall off as much, but it was sliding down so the jingles were pressed against my toe and thus muted.  Even worse!  Also, the kazoo seems to have broken.  I need some gear.  Excited to really practice/perfect this act!  A couple times I had to remind myself that I do still play the accordion, and people do like it, so I gave my foot a break so I could squeeze better.  Sounds so empty though without the percussion.  The best song to use all three is still "Call Me!"

7. On my bus from London to Antwerp, "The Final Countdown" came on the radio.  It occurred to me that this will be the perfect song for me!  I can do the dramatic chords and "melody" on the right hand, and the catchy instrumental line on the kazoo.  I played around with it a little today, and totally got a tip for it.

8. Swiss lady singing along with La Vie en Rose!  That is all.

9. There were a ton of buses/trams going right in front of me, which was fun.  It's nice to see my reflection every once in a while (the kazoo looks so dumb), but mainly it's fun to make eye contact with passengers.  This time of day, many are cranky and going home, so I like to think it's nice for them to see something different ou the window.

10.  Everything is super expensive in Switzerland.  I like to think the inflation there helped me, and I do think people were more heavy-handed with the 2- and 5-franc coins.  One just isn't enough!  Oh, that's another thing to celebrate: my third currency of earnings!  Although I don't know what I'll do with a bag of CHF coins, since my days in this country are numbered.

I think that's all, enjoy this sunshine if you have it!  Next busking: Munich, probably.