Chantal Panozzo - Swiss Life: 30 Things I Wish Id Known

Essays

Chantal Panozzo

Opyd Press
Chicago Zurich Somewhere In Between

Swiss Life:
30 Things I Wish Id Known
by Chantal Panozzo

First published in2014

Copyright ChantalPanozzo 2014
Edited by Lizzie Harwood
Cover design by Igor Udushlivy
Book design by JD Smith

Smashwords Edition

ISBN978-0-9903155-2-0

This e-book is licensedfor your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or givenaway to other people.

In the interest ofprivacy, names and identifying characteristics have been changed,timelines have been compressed, exaggerated, or altered, and someof the dialogue is more exact than some of the other dialogue.Although subject to extreme expat bias and memory, this is a workof nonfiction. The events described have happened.

Disclaimer

Achtung, ladiesand gentlemen.

Objects inthis story may appear less perfect than you want them to.

Think of itthis way: this book was almost called A Bitch Abroad. So ifyoure looking for a happy-go-lucky story about the glories of lifein Switzerland, this isnt it. Its not a book about where to findthe best chocolate, cheese, or ski slopes, even if the author hasstrong opinions on these topics along with a sweet tooth ofconsequence we will not get into here. And its also not a bookabout the authors love for her adopted country despite the alphornin her living room.

Instead, thisbook is about Swiss and expatriate life. The not-made-for-TVversion.

Its sweetliving in a place where the average person is thin despite eatingtwenty-six pounds of chocolate a year, but the experience shouldntbe sugarcoated. Because even if you live in a country as clean asSwitzerland, life as an expatriate is messy. Trying to continueyour life (rather than take a vacation from it) in a foreign placeis a challenge as wonderful and daunting as the Swiss Alps.

I speak fromexperience. Eight years ago, I came to Switzerland to live thedream. Instead, I lived a life. Mine. Surprisingly it went on, andI did many more things during it than look for Heidi and eatfondue. I had an identity crisis. I found and lost jobs. And Ibecame a mother. All while trying to learn one of Switzerlandsofficial languages, only to find out most Swiss considered that aforeign language too.

Switzerland isefficient and idyllic, but my life living within its borders wasnot. So if youd like to read a prettier version, I can recommendplenty of books and movies that will make living abroad seem like abeautiful dream. Or make Switzerland look like it belongs in afairy tale rather than on a world map. In contrast, my version ofliving in Switzerland may make you cringe. Or feel uneasy. Or,hopefully, if youve ever lived abroad yourself, make you nod andsmile. (But not smile and nod, which youve probably done enough ofif youre an expatriate.)

So with thatin mind, please sit back, relax, and enjoy some cheese andchocolate along with a good dose of sarcasm. And dont worry aboutthat clock tower. It dings every fifteen minutes, 24-7. But youllstop hearing it after awhile.

SWISS LIFE: 30 THINGS I WISH ID KNOWN

s

Google Search not necessary

What Im glad I read

Why canton Aargau is cool after all

Danke. Merci. Grazie. Thank you.

1. Get fateful e-mail from husband: I got theoffer.

2. Google: Should Imove abroad?

3. Eat lots of highfructose corn syrup.

4. Google: Finding ajob abroad. Hard?

5. Toss. Turn.Repeat.

6. Wear sunglasses tocover up bags under eyes.

7. Remember who ispresident (2006).

8. Repeat #7. Alot.

9. Go to work. Stareat non-existent vacation balance. Shake head.

10. Realize lookingback and thinking, what if? would suck.

#1: You will become aforeigner even to yourself

Two years after giving up my maiden name, I gave upsomething else: my American way of life. My husbands opportunityto work in Switzerland felt like a unique chance for adventure. SoI agreed to go. I was Superwoman, after all. I believed I couldmove my house, my career, and our relationship as easily as themovers packed our dishware.

The dishesarrived at our Baden apartment, about fifteen miles west of Zurich,intactthey had been carefully padded. I, however, was anotherstory. No one had bothered to bubble wrap my career, my marriage,or, most importantlyme. I dont know what I expected, but as amember of the Google Generation with everything from instantcappuccino to instant answers for what is the capital of Vanuatu?perhaps I assumed Id also be graced with instant adjustment to theglamorous life promised by the term expatriate. However, once theonly thing I woke up for was to kiss goodbye a husband I barelyrecognized anymore (a suit? shiny shoes?), my new reality blaredlouder than the Swiss church bells: I had walked away from a fancycareer at one of the USs top creative advertising agencies to golive as a housewife in a country most Americans confused withSweden. At twenty-eight years old, Ms.4.0-perfectionist-who-was-once-going-to-conquer-the-world-with-her-brilliancehad instead become a passive follower: the trailing spouse.

In my earlydays abroad, I blamed Switzerland for my resulting identity crisis,but nothing was Switzerlands fault: its cows and geranium-filledmedieval villages were there, just as promised. But the feeling ofloss I experienced, which was about as deep as the ocean we hadcrossed during our move, became associated with my new countrytoo.

Did I need apsychiatrist? Every book I had read about living abroad made meconclude that I should have been satisfied with eating cheese andchocolate and loving the landscapes. Instead, with every Germanlesson I completed, I became more and more frustrated by theincomprehensibility of my Swiss German world, which didnt soundanything like what I was learning in class. Hiding out in my Swissapartment so I could live in a bubble and not talk to anyone, Iread stories of American women living in Italy who described theItalian plumbers they couldnt understand as charming. I couldnthelp but wonder, what was wrong with me? Why wasnt I findingmisunderstandings amusing? People back home begged me to post allthe fun I must be having on Facebook. How could I tell them thatnot being able to ask for an aspirin at the pharmacy gave me aheadache? How could I tell them that despite Switzerlandswell-marked 38,525-mile network of Alpine trails, I had managed toget lost?

What had Ilost? Lets start with myself. Without the English languagesurrounding me, I lost my personality and I certainly wasnt aboutto post a status update on that. So I ran away to big cities likeParis, London, and Munich every weekend so I could brag about thoseinstead. I was checking off things on my bucket list, but I wasalso running away from a place in Switzerland called real life.Shockingly, it existed in small countries known for storybookmountain girls and I was scared to face it. Life was easier as atourist.

Along withlosing myself, I also lost the equality that had always sustainedour marriage. Because even though my husband continued to treat meas an equal, after we moved for his job, there was a subtle shiftin the balance of power in our marriageand it was not in my favor.Brian had beat me to the boardroom while passing Swiss strangersreminded me that I was a failure at things as simple as putting mytrash in the correct bags.

Being lecturedby the general population on everything from a less-than-perfectgarden to the way I recycled glass bottles (during the lunch hour,oops!) didnt make me a very nice spouse. Even though the Swisstradition of social control had nothing to do with ourrelationship, Brian began to feel like a competitor instead of apartner. I couldnt figure out exactly whymaybe it was because wewere the same age, had the same suburban Chicago background, orbecause we used to take the same quizzes side by side in economicsclass in college. He was my husband, but he was also my peer, andour relocation had altered the landscape of our relationship muchin the same way a volcano changes an islands.