Different is sometimes better, and different is sometimes not. Although the exact implication of the word “different” is certainly subjective, it is clear that different is different. In the film “Pulp Fiction,” John Travolta’s bacon-lovin’ character said that when in Europe, “it’s the little differences” that take you for a ride. He was right.

I am currently living it up (oh, yeah) in Lausanne, Switzerland. “Sweden? Oh, how nice.” I respond, “No, Switzerland.” “Oh cool, you speak Swiss?”

“Um, no. French.”

I had that conversation a few times before I left the States.

F.Y.I.: Switzerland is about 220 miles wide at its widest and 120 miles tall at its tallest. I say about because I took these measurements from the legend provided on the Swiss map.

Yes, this neutral zone is smaller than Iowa, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t much going on.

This Alpine nation is a cultural hub: We have five language options at the cash machine and every film has subtitles in two languages. There are four languages spoken here: French, German, Italian and Romansh, which was derived from Latin and Etruscan.

French serves as the national language, even though native French speakers represent only one-fifth of the total population. Hmm. Another tidbit: The German here is technically Swiss German. It is not the same thing. To demonstrate this fact, German Germans cannot start up a conversation with a Swiss German. Not gonna do it.

Lausanne, my home and home to the International Olympic Committee since 1915, is about 150,000 people strong when you include the surrounding towns.

I live in a good neighborhood in a pink building which faces another pink building, which already exceeds the number of pink buildings in the city of Ames. The sole home I can think of that has a rosy glow is found on Story Street.

My pink building is more interesting than the one across because it has “Streetfighters” spray painted across the bottom level.

Graffiti finds its way onto many buildings but rarely decorates museums and administration-type constructions. Some buildings simply demand respect.

Apartment buildings here always have a concierge who lives there. The concierge is responsible for the upkeep of the building and is at the tenant’s disposal for the laundry key and whatnot.

Mine is groovy. Imagine Ames apartment managers actually cohabitating with students in the apartments on Welch.

Public transportation is the Swiss way. The buses take people everywhere and people take buses everywhere. Buses are even much more popular here than the Orange Route back home.

My Swiss German neighbor tells me the public transports serve to keep air pollution at a minimum, and besides, cars and gas are pricey.

Anyway, bus lines run all over the city, providing everyone a means to get from Point A to Point B. And if not the bus, the metro is an option.

For the more adventurous, the train is an option to get out and see our neighbors France, Germany, Austria and Italy.

I personally take the bus and metro to get to the university. Riding in the car has become a privilege, kind of like it is for the American family dog.

My building is conveniently located diagonally from the pharmacy and the grocery store. The word “grocery store” should not invoke an image of HyVee. Okay, there is a parking lot, like you have at HyVee, but only five cars can park. No joke, but remember, few people have cars.

The store, Migros, is a huge chain where you have to pay to use a grocery cart. Mine is only a neighborhood store but is where I can buy all the nourishment I need.

The Swiss post office is not just the place to mail a letter, but it is a place for paying credit card bills, depositing money and paying rent. It is to be avoided at all cost at the first of the month. But at all times it is still a good idea to steer clear. The place is like a club, always hopping, expensive and open strange hours.

Everyone in this country has a two and a half hour lunch break. Don’t think of buying groceries or mailing letters between 11:30 a.m. and 2:00 p.m. because you are out of luck. In addition, don’t think of buying groceries after 7:00 p.m. or on Sundays. Almost everyone has Sunday off.

Here is a brief list of some other differences: 105 minute classes that become 90 minute classes because of a 15 minute coffee, smoke, or beer break; milk purchased at room temperature; smoking in school buildings; paying by the minute for local calls; and blue lights in public bathrooms to prevent people from seeing their veins clearly enough to shoot up.

The French say, “Vivez la difference!” which means, “Live the difference.” I am a big fan of this phrase because I love the differences I am presented with and I am living differently.

I buy warm milk, I pay to call my friends who live a mile away, and I smell like smoke from the people who walk the halls between 90 minute classes.

In all, I love it.

Learn and live, live and learn. Vivez la difference.

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Amanda Fier is a senior in journalism and mass communication from Davenport.