A taste of Sunday out of the mountains

A few days ago, the children's school fall holiday began and we hopped in the car and drove south. Six-and-a-half hours later, we arrived in the Principality of Monaco. When we left the Alps, mid-day temperatures hovered in the single digits; and when we arrived at our destination around midnight, we rejoiced at feeling 18 degrees C.

During out stay in newly married Prince Albert's land, I was struck by more than just balmy temperatures. While enjoying a black coffee and writing post cards under the arches of the Place d'Armes, I sat back and observed the scene around me.

It was Sunday, yet a produce market was in full swing. Stylish women wearing sunglasses and carrying wicker baskets picked up and sniffed red peppers; salespeople argued loudly about politics; children played at a nearby playground while their care-keepers chatted.

My eye stopped on a bevy of smartly coiffed women at a nearby table. They spoke in fast French, chain smoked, and drank a cloudy beverage that was most likely Pastis. They gestured and laughed in a way I have never seen women do back in Switzerland. That they seemed at ease, as if socializing in their own living rooms, drew me to the conclusion that they were locals.

I have yet to witness such a produce market in our village on a Sunday, as the Swiss reserve this holy day for church and for family.

I love getting out of the mountains, especially on Sundays.

A land of contrasts

Only in Europe...

In the USA, the eff-word is generally considered obscene and reserved for rated R or PG-13 movies. In Switzerland, where there are rules for everything, none seem to exist to prevent the commercial use of such a word.

And here in the Swiss Alps, the eff-word seems to have passed our local skate park propriety test. We thought the noise emanating form the van's speakers was well paired with the name of the local band "The Fucks." The what? That's right!

Perhaps, we're simply getting outdated... although my children thankfully agreed with me.

Smoking outside, a problem for some

When smoking was banned in public spaces in Switzerland. Meanwhile, my smoker friends grumbled, predicting the end of pubs and restaurants. I was thrilled. As they say, there's nothing worse than a reformed smoker! But I'm not as extreme as my friend Chantal. She can’t stand cigarette smoke, even outside.

Chantal is the author of One Big Yodel, one of my favorite expat blogs in Switzerland. Check out her informative and funny post "Lunch al fresco (if you can)" on the smoking topic. A Chicago native and current resident of Baden, Switzerland, Chantal received the Rosalie Fleming Memorial Humor Prize for her satire on the airline industry last year.

Chantal’s post reminded me of a New Yorker's experience following the smoking ban in his city. As he sat in a cab with an Italian visitor, they spotted a crowd of smokers gathered on the sidewalk in the financial district.

“You have a lot of beautiful and conservatively dressed street ladies here,” said the Italian.

“Huh?” said the New Yorker.

“At home in Italy, our prostitutes don't look so good," said the Italian, obviously confused.

Outdoor smoke doesn’t bother me so much. If people want to smoke outdoors, I don't mind. But smoking in tight spaces is sickening, especially in cable cars or trains, as was allowed before 2005 when the Swiss banned smoking on public transportation. Don’t you remember the days when we had to squeeze our bodies into crowded non-smoking train cars, while the adjoining smoking car was empty?

Smoking remains a problem in Switzerland with 30% of the Swiss population still smoking (nearly 40% in the 20 to 24 year old category).

What do you think about smoking outdoors?

Swiss rail is great and worth the money

Living in Switzerland, I often take our rail system for granted. It usually takes an outsider to remind me how lucky we are to be living in a country with functional public transportation.

During breakfast this morning, a visiting American friend voiced his amazement at the efficiency of Swiss rail. Not only did he laud Swiss rail's online timetable, he couldn't believe it actually indicated the arrival and departure platforms ahead of time.

During his trip from Basel to Gstaad, he had been worried about the short four-minute layover in Bern. When the time came to switch trains, he easily found his connecting train, thanks to presence of large platform numbers and destination signs.

For those of you who don't already use it, click here to access Swiss rail's super efficient timetable.

On a related note...

I read in the newspaper this past Friday that Switzerland's Transportation Minister Doris Leuthard had unveiled a proposal to increase the price of the annual highway vehicle sticker from the current 40 francs to 100 francs. Rail fares would rise by 10 percent. Leuthard said these increases were necessary to pay for railway infrastructure. These increases are planned for 2015 and are subject to a national referendum.

I love it! Motorists are to subsidize rail!

Paying the restaurant bill the Swiss way

I was thrilled at the close of our book club’s annual Christmas dinner last night. Not only did I have a blast, I was impressed with the restaurant staff's ability to keep tabs on 29 individual champagne, wine, sparkling water, coffee, and espresso orders.

In Switzerland, it is common for restaurant staff to bring diners their own separate checks. I am not sure why, but one explanation for this could be that eating out in Switzerland is expensive. Whatever the reason, I think it's great. Being a teetotaler and a low-budget eater, I've often had problems with splitting the bill "per head" and having to subsidize others' heavy drinking habit.

So, I like the Swiss way. There's no awkwardness, and it avoids "But I just had a salad" issues. Thank you staff at Chalet Hotel Hornberg in Saanenmöser. You handled our boisterous group very well.

Comparing parking meters

Parking meters were a constant topic during the time I lived in Rhode Island and wrote for Newport This Week. Going to city council meetings and reading local newspapers felt like Chinese water torture. It seemed like every week, people argued in letter form about paying for yet another forest of single space parking meters. Downtown merchants complained that parking meters contributed to lower sales; and 'nimby'' (not-in-my-back-yard) types went on-and-on about how ugly they were and compared them to casino slot machines.

They didn't know about multispace meters, or  ultra-modern, time- and space-saving inventions that appear in most European cities... and in our village.

It's a 'pay by space' meter. Here's how it works. You park in a space, memorize your space number, go to one of the two meters located at each exit of the garage, enter your number and pay. The meter prints out a receipt, which you can just keep on your person. The meter memorizes the time remaining in a space. No need to go back to your car.

The one disadvantage of our machine is that it doesn't take credit cards. But I've seen similar meters in Switzerland that do.

Coming home to a hot lunch

Last week's spontaneous lunch at my neighbor's house prompted this post. Here in the German part of Switzerland, it's as if time stood still. School children and husbands come home to a hot lunch. This tradition is a wonderful one, as it brings families together around a table, and parents can provide a balanced meal in the middle of the day.

There is something comforting about walking by an open window around 11 a.m. and detecting the evidence of a stew cooking. The downside is that someone has to stay home and cook that meal--every single day. And if that person has a job other than being a housewife, this duty can become a burden.

So lunch at at my neighbor's went something like this. We were seated around the table, the wife, her husband and their two foster children. My two children were there as well, as they eat there twice a week, allowing me extra time to write.

It all started out with a simple green salad with tomatoes and a yogurt dressing, followed by a main dish of 'rösti' (pan-fried potatoes) with veal in a light cream sauce. Dessert was a plate of cut-up ripe nectarines and miniature chocolate chip cookies followed by coffee. As it was a weekday, everyone drank water. Conversation was pleasant and a calmness reigned.

At 1:15 p.m. the husband got up, shook hands, went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and returned to work. The older children went back to school, while the younger ones stayed with the wife to start their homework.

Why isn't there a cat tax?

"Go to the Commune and pay SFr 90 annual dog tax" is one of the annoying items on my "to do" list. I find the tax unfair, considering cat owners get off scot-free. It reminds me of the US tax on wine but not beer. Americans don't tax beer as much as wine, because beer is, supposedly, a working man's drink. Isn't wine better for you and has anyone talked to a construction worker in Montpellier about this? Don't get me going on this subject...

I feel slightly better paying my dog tax knowing that the Commune actually uses the money to supply us, dog owners, with green "robidog" boxes or dispensers of little plastic bags for picking up after one's pet. So, at least the money isn't wasted on new highways.

This brings me to another topic: dog ownership laws.

Did you know that if you are a dog owner, you are required to have your dog implanted with a microchip and registered with the Animal Identity Service (ANIS) database in Bern?

Also, did you know that if you plan on acquiring a dog, you must take a four-hour theory class on the obligations and costs of dog ownership? Topics include rabies, worming, vaccinations and other legal requirements in Switzerland.

No wonder Switzerland is often called the "rule-loving" and the "Nanny State." On this subject, one Daily Mail reader on this dog law had me laughing: "Sounds like a damned good idea to me - now all we need is something similar for would-be parents, then perhaps in the future, we would read of fewer incidents of child abuse, neglect, delinquency, animal cruelty and violent disorder."
In addition, most cantons require all dog owners regardless of past dog ownership to participate in practical dog training classes. I think going to these classes is a good idea, because I went to such classes with my Schnauzer-mix Bismarck when he was young, and I would go again. It's money well spent.

Now, Bismarck:

• comes when I call (unless he's chasing a cat)

• heels off a leash (better off than on)

• waits for me (unless same cat is around)

• is friendly to other dogs (unless he's attacked by a nasty Jack Russel Terrier)

• loves people (he's weary of small children who pull his tail)

Swiss table manners matter

The Swiss are very manners conscious. Even in schools, children are required to greet their teachers with a handshake and eye contact. When my children's friends come over, I am always pleasantly surprised by their good table manners and their use of please (bitte) and thank you (danke). Shortly before leaving, a Swiss child will come over to me, stick out a hand and thank me for the visit.

Here are some Swiss table manners:

1. Be on time.

2. Always wait for everybody to be served before beginning to eat.

3. All meals are usually started with the words "bon appetit" or "guten Appetit."

4. If wine is served, wait until the host begins the toast.

5. When toasting, chink your glass with everybody at the table and look each person in the eyes before drinking.

6. Keep your wrists on the table, but never your elbows. Do not place your hands in your lap.

7. Remember to always say please and thank you.

8. French bread is always torn rather than cut with a knife.

9. Lift your forearm from the table while moving the fork to your mouth.

10. Use your left hand for the fork and the right for your knife and gently push food on your fork.

11. If you are served cheese as a wheel, it should be cut from the centre into slices (as you would slice a pie).

12. When finished, put your knife and fork parallel to one another on your place as if they were hands on a clock indicating 5:25. If you don't do this, your host will serve you more food.

13. Finish everything you take on your plate. The Swiss do not appreciate waste.

14. These manners apply to children as young as two.

15. Additional children rules: Make sure children wash their hands before meals. Children generally must wait to leave the table until everyone is finished.

Let's talk rubbish!

Having just returned to Switzerland from our summer vacation in the USA, I am relieved to be sorting my trash again. I know this sounds strange. It just feels good to know that I am doing my part in a system that actually works.

Look at the numbers: The US recycles 32.5% of its waste, compared to 60% in Austria (the highest score in the EU), and 10% in Greece. Switzerland comes out ahead with 54% of waste recycled (75% for glass, PET and aluminum beverage containers).

The three reasons I believe that Americans don’t recycle properly is threefold: a lack of incentive to recycle, distrust in recycling systems, and inconvenience.

Lack of incentive

Switzerland creates an incentive to recycle by taxing garbage bags. In my village, a roll of ten 35-liter trash bags costs about $19. That means that each bag costs nearly $2!

Conversely, recycling is free.

What happens if you use a non-taxed bag? Well, the garbage police regularly searches non-taxed trash bags that have been dumped in communal dumpsters illegally, looking for clues of the culprits’ identities, such as an address on an envelope. If you are caught, fines can amount to $10,000!

Distrust

Where my mother lives in Newport, Rhode Island, recycling does happen, but people don't trust it. I remember when the program began--sometime in the early 90's--there were eyewitness accounts of recycling trucks dumping their contents into the normal garbage that was slated for the landfill.

Recycling in Newport is only offered to residences. Businesses, i.e. bars and restaurants, are not required to recycle, and hence, most do not. And if you consider that Newport has one of the highest number of bars per capita in the US, you can just begin to imagine how many empty beer bottles and cans are generated on any given weekend.

In Switzerland, everyone recycles. It doesn't matter whether you are a business or a private person. Just one trip to a super efficient Swiss recycling center is enough to convince one of the seriousness of their system.

Inconvenience

Let's start with batteries.

During our vacation in Newport this summer, I asked my mother where I could dispose of used batteries. She replied that once a year, during a special toxic material disposal day, one can bring used batteries to the dump. That's crazy! I am not going to keep used and leaking batteries in my house for an entire year! I suspect most people don't save their old batteries and simply dispose of them in the regular trash, which IS HORRIBLE! In my village here in Switzerland, recycling is convenient. Every major grocery store makes a battery recycling bin available to its customers.

Even though there is no recycling pick-up, there are plenty of places to bring recycling: the municipal recycling center, my neighborhood recycling spot, or closest grocery store, which are all open and available every weekday and Saturdays. Each grocery store has bins for recycling batteries, plastic PET bottles and milk bottles, as well as whipped cream dispensers. Every neighborhood recycling spot has bins for disposing glass, metal, and plastic PET bottles. Our neighborhood even has a bin for disposing Nespresso capsules!

Plus, you pay a tax to get rid of that television set when you buy it, so every electronics store and the recycling center will take your broken old TV for free.

You can say that the Swiss are too strict in regards to rubbish. But I think that they are acting responsibly, in light of the fact that they have limited space and seem to care about not contaminating their ground water supply. Interestingly, they banned the direct disposal of combustible waste in landfills 10 years ago. Now, all municipal waste is incinerated, and landfills are solely used for the disposal of non-burnable waste.

Something very un-Swiss just happened

To be fair, I would like to mention an American quality I like: spontaneity. While typing this sentence, Murphy's Law hit, and something very un-Swiss just happened. Elsbeth, my neighbor across the street, called and invited me for lunch--and it's 12:08 (the Swiss sit down to eat at 12:00)! Crazy! I'm accepting, as this kind of invitation may never come again.

In shock! I will return later.

(2 hours later)

As I sit down to write about the lunch, my friend Vreni stopped by without calling first. Then, her sister and mother came, and we shared a coffee together. I think I will stop generalizing!

What does on-the-dot punctuality really mean?

Punctuality is one Swiss tradition I learned the hard way when my daughter was in first grade.

Sports Competition Day was scheduled to begin at 8:30. The event was mandatory and the flyer instructed parents to send their children with a bagged lunch (the Swiss can do bagged lunches after all), water, a sunhat, and sunscreen.

When we arrived on the school field at exactly 8:30, we saw the children in my daughter’s class in groups, running, jumping, and stretching. The teacher, wearing a frown, glanced at us, then, turned, and walked away. It felt like a slap in the face.

For the next 10-15 minutes, my daughter and I stood by the sidelines, watching her classmates warm up. I tried to get the teacher’s attention, but her gaze never went in our direction. My daughter’s little hands squeezed my fingers. She had been feeling like an outsider and some of the kids had been bullying her. She was different in that she spoke English and she wasn’t a farmer. The pit in my stomach grew.

Anger welled inside of me. I HAD been on time. What this teacher was doing was cruel. She was contributing to my daughter’s status as an outsider.

My resentment gave way to guilt and shame. My chest ached. I just wanted to take my daughter home. At one point, she was integrated in a group, but by that time, she was clearly the newcomer-again.

Later, I heard someone say the following, reminding me of that fateful day:

To be early means to be on time;
To be on time means to be late; and
To be LATE is inexcusable.'

From then on, I vowed to always be early, as I never wanted to experience the anger, guilt, and shame of being late again. If the meeting is at 9:00, I’ll arrive at 8:45, as I know that business will begin at 9:00 on-the-dot.