Getting to Know the Swiss

Flowers outside our front door. We also have daffodils almost blooming in the back.

     I understand from locals that spring is not here and that it could very well snow into April. I'm finding that difficult to believe, however, with the blue skies, bright sunshine, and flowers popping up in our yard. This is my favorite weather: cool and fresh, definitely jacket weather, but not winter. We actually did some yard work on Saturday, and I have washed about a third of the windows in the house. The weekend also included company on Friday, taking Drew to play soccer with friends, and introducing Eric to Philippe of the Ecole Professionelle de Coiffure. All that made me feel like we really live here and aren't just vacationing, which is a nice feeling.
     Adding to my feeling of entrenchment, last week I experienced the Swiss version of door-to-door evangelism by a Jehovah's Witness. The doorbell rang and I answered it. A very polite woman greeted me and began speaking in French. She was talking about the many people who believe that the world will end in 2012, and that these people are actually correct (Eric noted later that they are running out of time as it is already March). I noticed that the magazines in her hand had "Tour" or "Tower" as part of the title, and guessed which she was from. I gave her my now-favorite all-purpose excuse: "Je ne comprende pas de francais" (also delightfully effective for telemarketers). She asked if I would like some literature in English. I told her, "Non, merci." She thanked me and left. I had to laugh, because if any culture is going to have completely polite and non-pushy door-to-door evangelists, it has to be the Swiss.
     The politeness and fear of being a nuisance reaches new and more troublesome heights with neighbors, however. I read before moving here that neighbors will not come to your door when you move into a neighborhood. They see it as rude and intrusive to barge in on a new family before that family is ready for visitors. As the new family, you are supposed to let neighbors know that you are ready for visitors. The book did not suggest how this is to be done. As of yesterday, after six months here, we still only knew one set of neighbors -- the elderly couple who inhabit the house to the left of us. Although we exchanged cards, quince jelly, and chocolates at Christmas, and although the husband was an invaluable help the night we were robbed, I really don't feel that I know them well enough to borrow an egg or a cup of flour. That neighborliness is definitely what I miss most about the United States. I am not alone. Johanna announced on Sunday that she wanted to meet the neighbors on the other side. Because we share a hedge, we had heard their children playing outside from time to time. Because the hedge is Swiss (read: tall and opaque, even in winter), we had never actually seen them. I am neither as brave nor as friendly as Johanna, but I decided to grit my teeth and at least be supportive. I had baked a batch of chocolate chip cookies, so we loaded up a plate and headed next door. All the way, we practiced saying "Nous sommes vos voisines. Nous voudrious dire bonjour et vous donner ce cookies." This means something like: "We are your neighbors. We'd like to say hello and give you these cookies." I'm sure it sounds ridicuous in French, but people here tend to be pretty forgiving if you give the language your best shot. We also practiced saying some other friendly things, but I was sure it was going to be a difficult and awkward conversation.
     It wasn't. I got out, "Nous sommes . . . " at which point, the wife said, "You speak English," and proceeded to carry on the rest of the conversation in practically accentless English. The husband sounded a bit more French, but also spoke English perfectly. They mentioned that they had been debating (for six months, apparently) whether to come meet us, and were very glad we had stopped by. They have a son the same age as Luc, and suggested that the boys get together some time to play football. They told us to stop by whenever we needed something (an egg, perhaps?). In general, they were completely friendly, welcoming, and . . . neighborly. On the way home, I congratulated Johanna on having the good idea to go over there. She said, "They're not very Swiss." I think, however, that she was wrong about that. I think our neighbors are completely Swiss -- they are reserved and reluctant to be a nuisance, but truly friendly. It's at least nice to know that, should we happen to see them over the hedge, we can greet them by name and have a short conversation.

I include this picture of the hedge to make clear the extreme unlikeliness of  a chance meeting  with neighbors!

Coming soon: EuroSMAC or The 5:30 Rabbit