“American in Europe”

As an American living in Europe during the Iraq War and post 9/11, a conversation usually began like this…

“Guten Tag, sprechen Sie englisch?”
“A Liddle, arde ‘oo Anglisch?”
“American. Can you tell me where the bathroom is?”
“Ah, Jah, Ids offer dere. Vat do you dink ov yore Preseedaunt?”

Every time.

Somewhere in the conversation, the question would pop up. My collegues and I enjoyed messing with people.
“Oh, we love our President! We think he is wonderful!”
“Rillee?” They would reply in shock.
Usually, they wouldn’t believe us. I mean who would ever believe that George W. Bush, the evil oil monger urging the murdering of innocent people and who only pushed for the war in Iraq, using the now missing chemical weapons as an excuse, so that he can make millions off the oil industry, is a good President. Who would ever believe that the American people had actually voted him into office?

I was asked once during a phone call home how safe I felt as an American in Europe. My friend wanted to know if I was able to "blend-in" over in Europe. What Americans don’t understand is that it is virtually impossible to blend-in. Americans in Europe are very visible, easy to spot. We walk, talk, smell and look American. If I ordered coffee in German, the reply would come in English. If I spoke in English, they would pretend that they couldn’t understand me, though I knew they understood every word I was saying. We stuck out. We didn’t even try to blend-in. Swiss people are closed to outsiders, Not just to Americans. It is really a result of geography, the circle of mountains that protect them. They are suspicious to anyone who is from a different country, different canton, different village, different church, different language, different family. But I felt completely safe.

Switzerland is one of the safest places I have ever been in my life. Children, five years of age, ride their scooters or bikes to school by themselves. Kids take the bus by themselves. I could go almost anywhere anytime of the day as a woman without being bothered or accosted--The advantage of living in a culture that keeps to themselves. If a stranger talked to me, it was usually because I started the conversation or if I was buying something.

One fall afternoon, a group of us young people went into the city of Biel to do a little community service. We passed out free cookies and hot drinks to the shoppers in the middle of the city. In the States, this is usually quite well received. Americans love free things, especially food. In Switzerland, it was just the opposite. Approaching a stranger with a plate of cookies and an offer of hot coffee, usually made them walk quickly away with eyes averted. Usually our presence was completely ignored, and if we really stepped in their way, they would mumble something and get away as quickly as possible. On guy asked us if we were a Mormon group because there were Americans mixed in with the Swiss. Typically, if you are an American trying to talk to Swiss people in public places, this means you are a Mormon.

Though there was a lot of antagonism toward us, it was more political, than real. Once I was officially introduced to a Swiss person and had established enough of a relationship with them, no matter what differences there may be, I was treated as one of the family. They would bend over backwards in their hospitality. I don’t think I have ever met a more hospitable people than the Swiss. The amount of food given during the course of a meal was incredible. The trick was that in Swiss culture, you must eat everything on your plate or you are considered to be rude. How do you eat everything on your plate, when it keeps filling up? That’s a conundrum I don’t think I ever solved. Swiss people will take you to the most amazing beautiful places that no tourist book could ever lead you to and pay for it themselves. They will wine and dine you at the best restaurants. At the end of your stay, when as a visitor it is polite to leave them with a gift, they stuff money in your pockets or load you up with Lindt chocolates.

How can the Swiss be so hostile to Americans in the political arena, but so hospitable and gracious? I could never truly explain this paradox, except to suggest a trip to Switzerland to experience the post-card unreal beauty that you will find in the landscape and in the people.