What is home?

I’ve heard some people respond to this question by saying, “Wherever the toothbrush is”.  I don’t see it that way though.  For me, home is where Lisa is.  And the dog.  It’s important that I list them in that order as Lisa reads this blog but I can’t neglect the dog.  Lisa and I in a hotel room is not home.  Throw in the dog, however, and it’s getting pretty close.  This makes it sound like the dog is more important than Paige which is mostly not true but Paige’s influence is diminished by the reality that someday, as her siblings have done, she will fly the coop.  But not Lisa.  Lisa = Home.  Why do I raise this now?  In August, we mark ten years of living here and when I mention this to people the first thing they say is usually, “When do you plan to move back”?  The unstated word they leave out is “home”.   As adults we’ve lived many places in the US but never once did someone ask me when I planned to return to Rhode Island or Lisa, to Miami.  But here people assume that we’re biding our time until we can move back “home”.   Our family, as defined by next generation up and next generation down, is extremely important to us but does not and could not define home.  With two daughters in San Diego, a son in Houston and parents in Rhode Island and Florida, we’re too spread out.  Visiting them wouldn’t be significantly easier if we lived stateside anyway.  Cheaper, certainly, but still requiring airports.  Fortunately, in addition to holidays, both Lisa and I have been able to tag on days to business trips so the opportunities to see family hasn’t been as infrequent as one might think.  The end result, in fact, is that we’ve seen our parents more often while living here than we did when living in Chicago, St. Louis, Kentucky or Pennsylvania.   It’s a matter of making it a priority.  So, if you want to ask us when we’re going to return home we’ll probably say we’re already home but that next week or next month or this fall, we’re going to San Diego or Florida or Houston or Rhode Island.  Because we don’t need to move to those places.  We just need to visit some people who happen to live there.    

Trump’s NATO ignorance

I’m going to stray a bit off the path I set when initiating this blog a year ago.  While I never committed to avoid politics I implied that I would stick to Swiss issues.  Or at least issues affecting Americans living in Switzerland.  But I never anticipated Trump.  Now some may ask how he’s impacting us over here but this question would betray a basic ignorance regarding the role and responsibility the U.S. plays throughout the world, including Switzerland.    The U.S., for good or bad, is the key to global stability.  Our foreign policy matters.  As we go so does the rest of world and history has shown that a policy of isolation doesn’t work.  That was the case in 1918.  It was so in 1939 and it’s been true ever since.  What’s frightening and deeply troubling now is that Trump is completely unaware of this.  His foreign policy knowledge (and appreciation of the value thereof) is non-existent.  Last week’s statement implying that the U.S. might reconsider our NATO obligations to help protect our allies was the latest evidence of this ignorance.  He really isn’t cognizant of the role NATO has played in the stability and relative peace that Europe has enjoyed since the dark days following WWII.   It seems he thinks that nearly seventy years of peace in a region whose previous record was maybe ten minutes has been luck.  Who knows, maybe he hasn’t noticed.   He also probably doesn’t know that NATO’s Article 5 (the collective defense article) has been invoked only once and this was after the 9/11 attacks when NATO led troops were deployed to Afghanistan, in our defense.    

Did I ask you what you think?

I got barked at today.  By an old Swiss guy.  It reminded me of the time not long after we arrived when Lisa and Paige were on the tram with one of Paige’s friends and her mother.  The two girls were standing on the spot between the cars that swivels when the tram takes a corner and being kids, were swaying with the motion.   After a bit, an old guy stood up to leave.  At the door, he paused then turned to bark at Lisa and the other mom.  Lisa understood nothing of what he said but smiled, nodding politely.   After he was gone, her Swiss friend said that they’d just been told what awful mothers they were.   This kind of interaction isn’t terribly uncommon here and is unrelated to our status as foreigners.  Generally, in fact, the complainer doesn’t even realize this.   It seems that these unhappy people are surprisingly self-aware but they simply cannot help themselves (or don’t care).   Paige and her friends were recently scolded on the bus by a woman who continued at the conclusion of her admonition to remark that they probably just thought she was an unpleasant old lady.  They were too polite to confirm her suspicion but they didn’t deny it either.

Schwingen

One of the elements of the Swiss experience that I regrettably left off my Top 10 list was tradition.  Switzerland is full of fun and interesting traditions, some observed across the country and some locally.  We try to experience as many of these as possible, for example the cow fighting I posted about in April.  In 2013 we attended Das Eidgenössische Schwing und Älplerfest (sorry, no translation possible).   A Swiss colleague encouraged me to go, telling me that for pure, concentrated Swissness this is ground zero.    It’s a sort of Swiss Olympic Games that’s held every three years, each time in a different location.   The sites are just vast open fields so for each Games an enormous temporary arena capable of seating roughly 50,000 fans is constructed.  Since considerably more than 50,000 people show up, several enormous screens are also set up in the grounds surrounding the arena.   The competition is comprised of three different events, the main being a form of wrestling called Schwingen, which takes place in a 12 meter diameter ring covered with saw dust.   The other two are  Steinstossen  and Hornussen.  Steinstossen involves the throwing of a small boulder weighing 83.5 kg, which is a bit more than I weigh.  The winner generally manages a hernia popping distance of about four meters.  Hornussen is difficult to describe so I won’t even try.  Imagine Quiddich without the brooms or flying.  Checkout this website if you’re interested (http://www.myswitzerland.com/en-ch/hornussen-where-the-nouss-flies-from-the-ramp-and-into-the-playing-field.html).   The main event, however, is clearly Schwingen.  As with cow fighting, the winner receives no cash.  Just more glory than you can shake an alpenhorn at and a giant pile of dry goods donated by sponsors who are nevertheless not permitted to advertise.  Washing machines.  Lawnmowers.  Furniture.  Tools.  Livestock.  Sort of like the winners of 70’s game shows in the US (plus farm animals).  The event will be held this summer so make your plans to attend.  Pure, distilled Swissness taking place in Estavayer (Canton Fribourg) from August 26^th to 28^th.  Don’t miss it.