After two months in Switzerland, it was time to assess how far we had become acclimated by returning to the United States for Thanksgiving. That was not the initial reason, of course – we traditionally visit The Spouse’s mother for Thanksgiving and now that she is 92 we didn’t want to deviate from custom even if it meant traveling all the way from Switzerland. En route we spent several days at home in Philadelphia, got caught up with doctor and dentist visits, and best of all had several good visits with our 24-year-old son.
(This raises a difficult issue. As you have obviously discerned, my spouse wants to remain anonymous in this blog, and because he is a Very Good Spouse I have acceded to his wishes. Hence, The Spouse. But now, how to refer to our only child? It can’t be The Son, because that would make his initials TS as well. I don’t really like Only Son, as the phrase “only child” always makes single children sound deprived. I have given great thought to this matter but have come up with nothing. For the moment, I think I will call him Handsome Son, because he is indubitably that, and see how it goes.)
I visited HS at his place of employment, a climbing gym in a far suburb of Philadelphia. Climbing is becoming increasingly popular, and when he graduated from college in 2009 (at the deepest point of the recession) HS adeptly built on skills acquired as camp counselor and ropes course instructor to land this job.
While there he has gotten involved in competitive climbing. Often known as bouldering, this involves free climbing (i.e., without ropes) on low walls shaped like protruding boulders. The climber tries to follow a route marked out in colored tape, which requires problem-solving skills as well as strength, dexterity and stamina. HS compares it to sprinting, while vertical climbing is more like a marathon. 
I enjoyed the opportunity to observe HS in his native environment. The atmosphere was convivial, with colleagues supporting and applauding each others' efforts. I even tried a bit of climbing on the higher vertical walls – well strapped into harness and securely belayed by HS. It takes a lot of upper and lower body strength, and after a couple of climbs my hands and arms were trembling from exhaustion. No wonder HS is in such great shape!
It took me more than an hour to get to the gym from Center City Philadelphia, and sitting on traffic-clogged “expressways” prompted many thoughts about differences between life in the U.S. and in Switzerland. Size is obviously a major factor: Switzerland is a small country, and most of the land is occupied by mountains. Usable land is therefore valuable. On the other hand, while back in the U.S. I became aware of how much land goes to waste. I’m not referring here to how much more spread out everything is, but the way the landscape is littered with vacant stores and parking lots, like cast-off tissues. One rarely sees empty buildings in Switzerland.
Other observations were certainly not novel – relating to how much cheaper things are in the U.S., especially food, clothing and eating out. This is a frequent topic of conversation amongst expats in Switzerland. It was certainly amazing to take mother- and sister-in-law out to dinner at a chain steakhouse and pay about half what we’d have paid for dinner for two back in Baar. But then several things occurred to me.
One of the reasons for high dining prices is the high minimum wage in Switzerland: the figure I have heard is 22 Swiss Francs an hour, pretty much equivalent to $22 an hour. Obviously, much of that is passed on to consumers in higher prices. On the other hand, when we eat out in the U.S. when we look at the menu we rarely calculate the extra 15 to 20 percent that we will be paying for a tip at the end. In Switzerland one tips little, if at all, because the cost of service is already included in the price. And as a result there is a higher standard of living for everyone.
Another thought came to me when we had returned to Switzerland. While passing through the nearby village of Allenwinden we met a jeep with its lights flashing, the driver gesturing for us to slow down. I thought we must be coming upon a traffic accident, but we turned a corner and encountered a flock of sheep being moved from one pasture to another. I scrambled for my camera and just managed to get a couple of shots before they passed by.
Afterward, I mused about the scene, and how much closer most Swiss are to the everyday process of agriculture. Perhaps many accept higher prices for meat, milk and vegetables – most of which are locally grown – because they don’t think of these as abstract commodities but things that their neighbors produce. Ironically, the Swiss seem to eat better despite or because of higher prices: they have the lowest percentage of overweight and obese people in Europe or the Americas. Anyway, a few things to ponder. As a wise Englishwoman said to me recently, “It is wonderful to live in Switzerland long enough to appreciate how things are done here. But you have been here too long if you begin to think that the rest of the world should do things the same way!”
Coming next: winter in Switzerland!
