It’s always interesting to travel to a new country.  In addition to the differences in the natural surroundings you learn a lot about the differences in the culture and, more specifically, the people that make up that culture.  I think many people might argue that there is an American culture, but it’s much harder to define.  We’re such a large and diverse country that our American culture is a little harder to put into a box, which is why when you see an “American Store” in another country, it usually sells cowboy hats.  Sure that’s a part of our culture, but it doesn’t represent about 90% of us.

Anyway, we just got back from two weeks in Switzerland and the nice thing about Switzerland is that it’s so much easier to harshly stereotype people.  You’ve got a whole country of people who are generally white, well off, and share a similar religious and cultural background.  It would be like if everyone in the US had grown up in Martha’s Vineyard.  Sure some of the Swiss herd cows in the Alps and some work at banks in Zurich.  Some speak German, some speak French and some speak Italians as well as few other weirdo languages, but for the sake of locking them all in a small little box (all the better to ridicule you, my dear) let’s ignore all that.  So, without further ado.  I present to you, five things I learned about the Swiss.

1. They’re Crazy Healthy… and not

They’re really aren’t fat Swiss people, if you get a little closer to Italy, you start seeing people who are a little more… uh…. well rounded, but the hard core Swiss in the middle?  They are a bunch of lean, fit, freaks.

It’s not hard to figure out why.  Everyone there rides a bike or goes hiking.  We were staying at a town at the top of a 5100 foot mountain and everyday we saw dozens if not hundreds of people biking up the mountain.  And I don’t mean huffing it, I mean chug chug chugging their tiny little buttocks up this alp like it was no problem.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  When I’m pulling my kids in a bike trailer, I break out into a sweat if we have to go over a speed bump.  I literally saw a man, riding his bike up a 12% incline, in the rain, with saddle bags of luggage on his front wheels and back wheels, pulling a kid trailer and he looked like he was out for an afternoon stroll.  You know how male gymnasts have these huge bodies and spindly legs.  Well the Swiss are like 80% calves.

To be fair, this is what the young people do, when you get old, you have to slow down, and then you have to just hike up the Alps.  Everywhere you go, you see these 70 year old women with hiking boots and walking sticks setting out to cross an Alp.  And this is what they do for fun!  It really was amazing.  In most of America, the elderly have to be hooked up to oxygen if they’re going to walk from their car to that motorized shopping cart at Wal-mart.  I guess in Switzerland, you just hike until you’re body gives out and you fall down the side of the mountain and are devoured by sheep and marmets. Natural selection at its best.

At the same time, they all smoke like chimneys.  It’s bizarre.  I guess if you spend you’re life biking up an alp you can smoke all you want.  Who knew?

2.  They don’t really care for children

There is a joke that the Swiss like their dogs more than their children (in Switzerland that passes for a joke.  Humor really isn’t their forte).  This seems a little harsh, but it’s more or less accurate.  The Swiss do love their dogs.  They take them everywhere – shopping, to the grocery store, on ski lifts, in restaurants.  It’s the only country where the moving walk way at the airport doesn’t say “hold your child’s hand,” but rather has a sign saying, “dogs must be held while on the moving walkway.”  Screw the kids, they’ll be fine.

Everywhere we went you would find little boxes with bags to clean up dog poop.  And when I mean everywhere, I mean if you take a cable car to the top of a 10,000 foot mountain and then walk a mile to your left, I guarantee that you will pass about 5 of these boxes.  However, if you want to change your kid’s diaper, you better get down on your hands and knees in front of the urinal, because you’ll need to leave the country to find a changing table.  In Switzerland, the Koala Bear does not Kare. 

And we probably put our kids in a dozen different high chairs at various restaurants and not a single one had a safety strap on it.  And I know for a fact that all of those brands come with safety straps, they just weren’t there.  Now, I don’t want to say that the Swiss were actively trying to injure our children, but…..

We didn’t see many Swiss kids, and when we did, they seemed to be an only child – quiet, sullen, contemplating their investments while they biked up an alp.  (no kidding, I saw 8 year olds hoofing it up mountains.  It was crazy).  Our family looked like the Brady Bunch by comparison when we showed up with our three kids.  The only times we didn’t feel out of place was when an Italian family showed up.  They would have a whole slew of kids running around, laughing, shouting and having a great time.  They were Sooooo not Swiss.

Thank God for the Italians.  I could always tell if someone was Italian, because they would smile at our kids.  The Swiss completely ignored our children.  Now, I don’t want to sound pretentious, but my kids are pretty darn cute.  I would say on average when I am out with my kids that about 3 or 4 times a day someone will stop and comment on the kids, or ask how old they are or something.  Now, I’m not suggesting that my kids are special, I think anyone who is out with their kids experiences this… just not in Switzerland.  It is no exaggeration to say that the only Swiss person who said hello to our kids was a lady who had spent 20 years in the states.  On the other hand, we couldn’t beat the Italians off with a stick.  (We were about 20 miles from Italy).  They were always coming up and talking to the kids, and calling them bambinas and smiling and laughing.  They’re a wonderful people.  I had three elderly ladies who didn’t speak a word of English, stop and try to talk to me for 10 minutes about the kids.  Cooing over them, asking with their hands how old they are and generally being nice little old grandmothers.  And then they gave me a copy of the Watchtower.

To be continued:  The other three things I learned