The Super Bowl caught me off-guard last weekend; I found myself longing for something “American” in my life. “I want to watch the Super Bowl,” I said, “because I miss being home.” As much as we have created a comfortable and enjoyable space here, trying to “replicate” our home in the U.S., I thought something was missing.
We have done out best to create a home here, but I notice how much effort it takes to start from scratch, as we brought very little with us. What kitchen utensils do we need? Should we bring framed pictures? What clothing should we take? It might be fun to see what we have created and take a tour of the apartment as a start to this conversation.
First, getting off the tram (the #2 Tram is my favorite, as it takes me from our apartment to the public city pool), the building is immediately visible, a lovely red-brick and stone edifice, with architectural flourishes on the roof and balconies.
The buzzer-intercom system at the entryway proudly displays our names. I have learned that most of the families in our building are U.S. ex-pats, with many working at Google. I can hear the young children bouncing around on the floor above us when they get home from school and I smile at their energy. I worry that my loud “clomping” is waking the neighbors below us, who also have small children. The top floor is split into two apartments, unlike the other four floors, with one having a roof deck (I’m jealous).
We always use the stairs to walk up because, as Jo says: “How would you walk up stairs otherwise?” Our entryway is flourishing with the addition of a fun mat, representing the sunshine in our hearts.
Not pictured are the shoes left outside the door. I just learned that this mat is a replica of an art piece by Rosina Wachmeister, an Austrian artist who paints quite a few cats. The entry table has some of the only framed photos we brought from Menlo Park.
To the right is the main living area, with an office space first. You can see that the Peloton user looks directly out the window, giving anyone who wishes a full view of the rider. We don’t mind the exhibitionist nature of this. We don’t have a TV because we decided to read more instead. In its place, I have a SuperBox connected to the monitor, purchased before we moved. The idea was this: I would need full access to U.S. television channels while here (SpOrTs!). It didn’t quite register that the nine-hour time difference would dampen that desire significantly. Now I check news and scores when I wake up, having missed all of the in-the-moment drama as well as all of the commercials.
The dining area is simply wonderful, with views of the street on both sides. It’s big enough for friends, although we don’t really have any of those just yet here. We try and sit down every night and talk over dinner, something that was not part of our routine back home. It’s like we are newlyweds once again, and I love it.
There is a small balcony off of the dining area that we imagine will be fun to inhabit in the Spring and Summer but it’s tough to think that it will ever be warm enough, given how consistently grey and cloudy and cold it is here in January and February. My “European Dream” has always included sitting on a tiny balcony, sipping tea, and reading while folks pass below, busy about their lives, nodding at us as they walk on by.
To the left is the living area, or as we use it, “the reading and tea room.” Just last night we were remarking that we did an excellent job selecting furniture, given that everything was purchased over the Internet without knowing the exact dimensions of the space. We ask ourselves deep questions, such as, “Do we need a rug?” and “Should we hang pictures of the children on the walls?” and “What kind of artwork would work here?” and “Do you want more tea?” We usually get too tired to act by the end of these conversations and the space has remained the same.
Combined with the hardwood floors throughout, the height of the ceilings and the lack of clutter overall give the apartment a wonderfully roomy, albeit sterile, feel. In the center of the room, in the ceiling, are wires that poke out from the plaster.
While there was some in-ceiling lighting present when we arrived, each room was missing a mounted light and its place were exposed wires, screaming, “GO FIND THE LIGHTING YOURSELF!” I have come to learn that this is common in Switzerland, to take your lighting fixtures with you when you move. I have also learned that in other European countries the same is true for installed appliances. I’m grateful that our apartment has those. We did order lighting to be installed and we should be well-lit sometime soon.
While we are talking about wiring, I must share that my journey with matching the proper plugs and outlets has been more of a struggle than I am proud to admit. So, OK, it’s easy to match the shape of the plug itself and find adapters for our U.S. plugs, even though I shake my head at the fact that these don’t really match the rest of Europe (except Great Britain and Ireland, you folks are on your own there). The pictured “three-plug” receptacle entices with the multiple options but does the spacing allow for multiple plugs? Not really, especially if there is a converter-adapter in use as well. No tragedy here of course, but getting this operation functional took a few extra trips to the store to get it right. What else should I be doing with my retired life?
The kitchen has a very sleek and modern feel, with all of the appliances you might want, except a microwave. The Swiss just don’t use them, so now we warm our leftovers over an open flame as our ancestors did for millennia.
I love the kitchen, more than expected. I enjoy the clean, sleek elegance, and the efficient way that the parts are organized. The induction stove top and oven and dishwasher are easy-peasy, now that I have found the English-text version of the operating manuals. Oof, that was a rough few days of decoding how to use basic buttons with German labels. The star of the operation is obviously the coffee maker, and it has already earned its place as the starting quarterback on the A-Team of apartment operations.
The two bathrooms are perfect for us. The larger one (depicted) is also for laundry. After deciphering how to change the language from German to English, they work exactly as one might expect, except… they are 50% smaller than those in the U.S. This might not seem to be a big deal, and it’s not, as all of these “stories” are simply wonderful texture to our life here. What used to be “laundry day” back home is now “laundry week” here, or so it seems. A small load every day does the trick!
Another walk-on starter on the apartment A-Squad is the towel-rack / bathroom warmer. It serves a nice dual purpose, with hot water being used in the winter and electricity in the summer (or so I am told). I only know any of this because one of them was on the injured-reserved list when we got here and a nice fellow who is the custodian of the building explained it to me. I use it to dry my swimming towel, suit, and bag. A solid performer, it has been.
The bedrooms are surprisingly spacious and we are fine-tuning our sleep routines at the moment. For me, that looks like falling asleep immediately and waking up eight hours later wondering, “Who am I?,” “Where am I?”, and “What am I doing here?” For Jo, this has been a struggle for some time, certainly pre-dating our move here. But some new pillows and adjusting the room temperature have brought us closer to optimal. We have our Oura rings to let us know how we are doing. I am rocking a “triple-crown” Oura life these days, I am proud to say.
What does this have to do with the Super Bowl or missing home? Sunday night I decided I would try and watch the coverage, and I caught some of the endless pre-game nonsense. For a while, it felt oddly enjoyable, with the silly predictions and endless commercials. I was working on a fun “project” for my own amusement and all was flowing so nicely. Until f*cking Tr*mp appeared on the screen in a curated interview with some Fox News bootlicker. There it was, the slap that I needed to divest myself of the soft notion of “missing America” in a broad sense.
I have done a solid job of only occasionally reading about the happenings back home, as it breaks my brain and my heart to see the intentional cruelty being inflicted. While I have the luxury of escaping and tuning out all of the noise, it doesn’t erase the fact that my home country is being intentionally imploded by those who hold the truth that some people (white, wealthy men) are more capable and more deserving of a full life than those who are not. I honestly can’t imagine enduring the daily siege of horror being inflicted and having to listen to the lies that attempt to explain it all.
For now, this space we have filled and curated is our home and it is perfect, for we have each other and home has always been with my Jo. We wish our children didn't have to endure this sh*tstorm but we will continue to support and uplift them at every turn. So for now, I don't miss “home” all, because it has been here all along.
The apt is so dreamy! Especially those dining room windows 😍
Home is where the Joa is!