I spent a long weekend in Barcelona (where, as in Rome, they seem to have an objection to absorbent napkins; must be a Mediterranean thing), and it has been a bit of a shock to come back to Zurich. Barcelona was sunny with temperatures in the 60’s, food was plentiful, good, and cheap, and restaurants were open for dinner past midnight. Meanwhile, back at the ranch (or back in Zurich), temperatures are in the low 30’s, food is bland and expensive, and restaurants close early (although it doesn’t really matter, since it’s not really worth going to them in the first place). I am a little ashamed to admit what I spent my time doing in Barcelona. I know that there are tons of sights there, but apart from the aquarium and the Miro museum, I spent the entire time eating and sleeping.
This past weekend was Carnival weekend in Catholic areas, and I was able to “enjoy” the festivities, mostly when I was trying to sleep. In Barcelona, I was awakened one morning by the Loudest Puppet Show on Earth, which was being performed in the square outside of my hotel, and in Zurich, as I was trying to sleep last night, a marching band took up residence under my window, wearing fluorescent costumes (if you’re from Philly, think Mummers, and if you’re from New York, think Halloween), and banging on steel drums (I guess that traditional Swiss instruments would have been a little out of place).
Anyways… No matter how much the Swiss French insist that they are more laid back and easygoing than their Swiss German counterparts, deep down inside, the fact remains that they are, first and foremost, Swiss. One example of this is in their avoidance of personal contact beyond the requisite three-kiss greeting. Hugs are seen as overly intimate and off-limits between friends. Even the best of friends will shake hands or do a formal three-kiss greeting. Long hugs, short hugs, bear hugs, all are seen as involving too much personal contact for non-romantic relationships.
Also, there is the ironing. I acknowledge that certain things need to be ironed, such as dress shirts and wrinkled pants. However, I believe that jeans and t-shirts, if they are taken out of the dryer and folded (or even if they are taken out of the dryer and tossed on the floor), do not require ironing. The Swiss believe differently. Everything must be ironed, including t-shirts and jeans, otherwise, as one Swiss person put it, “Your jeans aren’t perfectly smooth.” He hastened to add that he does not iron his socks or underwear, although I would not have been terribly surprised if he ironed those, as well. If you’re going to iron your jeans and t-shirts, what’s to stop you from ironing your socks and underwear?
I imagine that it must be difficult for the Swiss to travel. Although they must appreciate the low prices and wide selection available in other countries, the lack of order and cleanliness must drive them mad. Emerging from a restroom in Spain, my traumatized friend said, “Thank God for Swiss toilets.” This is the same person who said that he spends his entire time out of the country dreaming about cheese, and upon returning to Switzerland, rushes to his favourite restaurant to gorge himself on fried cheese balls.
It is true that other countries lack the obsession with cleanliness that is so prevalent in Switzerland. Where else can you find little kiosks in the street that dispense tiny bags meant for dog poo? Where else are there specially designed cleaning machines that suit various cleaning niches? There are ride-on cleaners for the street, different ride-on cleaners for tram tracks, push-style cleaners for narrower sidewalks and alleys, and handheld units to reach corners and crevices. Some cleaning machines are scrubbers, some are more like leaf blowers, and others are giant vacuum cleaners. Where else is recycling akin to religion? The Swiss bundle their papers into perfectly rectangular packages, leaving them out on the appointed recycling days. They even make a point of looking at their neighbors’ recycling, and are quick to point out flaws. One expat had called the recycling authority to find out exactly what she could include in her bundles, and she followed the guidelines exactly. Nevertheless, her neighbour continues to tell her that she is violating recycling regulations by including this or that, despite being informed that the recycling authority had approved the contents of the bundles. Imagine if everyone had the time and determination to inspect our neighbors’ trash. Honestly, don’t they have better things to do?
This past weekend was Carnival weekend in Catholic areas, and I was able to “enjoy” the festivities, mostly when I was trying to sleep. In Barcelona, I was awakened one morning by the Loudest Puppet Show on Earth, which was being performed in the square outside of my hotel, and in Zurich, as I was trying to sleep last night, a marching band took up residence under my window, wearing fluorescent costumes (if you’re from Philly, think Mummers, and if you’re from New York, think Halloween), and banging on steel drums (I guess that traditional Swiss instruments would have been a little out of place).
Anyways… No matter how much the Swiss French insist that they are more laid back and easygoing than their Swiss German counterparts, deep down inside, the fact remains that they are, first and foremost, Swiss. One example of this is in their avoidance of personal contact beyond the requisite three-kiss greeting. Hugs are seen as overly intimate and off-limits between friends. Even the best of friends will shake hands or do a formal three-kiss greeting. Long hugs, short hugs, bear hugs, all are seen as involving too much personal contact for non-romantic relationships.
Also, there is the ironing. I acknowledge that certain things need to be ironed, such as dress shirts and wrinkled pants. However, I believe that jeans and t-shirts, if they are taken out of the dryer and folded (or even if they are taken out of the dryer and tossed on the floor), do not require ironing. The Swiss believe differently. Everything must be ironed, including t-shirts and jeans, otherwise, as one Swiss person put it, “Your jeans aren’t perfectly smooth.” He hastened to add that he does not iron his socks or underwear, although I would not have been terribly surprised if he ironed those, as well. If you’re going to iron your jeans and t-shirts, what’s to stop you from ironing your socks and underwear?
I imagine that it must be difficult for the Swiss to travel. Although they must appreciate the low prices and wide selection available in other countries, the lack of order and cleanliness must drive them mad. Emerging from a restroom in Spain, my traumatized friend said, “Thank God for Swiss toilets.” This is the same person who said that he spends his entire time out of the country dreaming about cheese, and upon returning to Switzerland, rushes to his favourite restaurant to gorge himself on fried cheese balls.
It is true that other countries lack the obsession with cleanliness that is so prevalent in Switzerland. Where else can you find little kiosks in the street that dispense tiny bags meant for dog poo? Where else are there specially designed cleaning machines that suit various cleaning niches? There are ride-on cleaners for the street, different ride-on cleaners for tram tracks, push-style cleaners for narrower sidewalks and alleys, and handheld units to reach corners and crevices. Some cleaning machines are scrubbers, some are more like leaf blowers, and others are giant vacuum cleaners. Where else is recycling akin to religion? The Swiss bundle their papers into perfectly rectangular packages, leaving them out on the appointed recycling days. They even make a point of looking at their neighbors’ recycling, and are quick to point out flaws. One expat had called the recycling authority to find out exactly what she could include in her bundles, and she followed the guidelines exactly. Nevertheless, her neighbour continues to tell her that she is violating recycling regulations by including this or that, despite being informed that the recycling authority had approved the contents of the bundles. Imagine if everyone had the time and determination to inspect our neighbors’ trash. Honestly, don’t they have better things to do?
No comments:
Post a Comment