Grace and Charity in der Schweiz

I have always been in love with other languages and cultures and after learning German and spending 10 days in Vienna, I vowed to return to Europe. I hatched my plan by gaining my Montessori credentials and a Masters degree in one year (losing my tonsils and what felt like 5 years of my life in the process) and before graduation I interviewed at a school in Switzerland and relocated there 2 days after handing in my final papers. The salary was more than double what I could make in the states and the hours less—so of course I signed the contract….And so was the beginning of my new idyllic life….well…sort of!
Did I mention that I am the single mom to two children, one of whom was soon to be diagnosed with a form of autism? Did I mention that my boys proudly learned high German at home only to find that the Swiss children spoke a completely different language? Did I mention that when they said I would work 32 hours a week, that meant 32 hours of lesson time with the children, (teaching art, music, all the subjects in English and more) and did not include the massive amount of preparation time that sometimes doubled my working hours. Or that I would find out first-hand that the school I taught at ascribed to a military style of Montessori education? Or that the 15 minute train ride from the station to work was more like an hour when I combined the time it took to walk to the station, ride the train, tram and arrive on time for work? And that of the 30 children in the class, the vast majority had learning delays or disabilities that were never disclosed to us? And also that the school had gone through a high turnover of staff and children and would continue to lose students, resulting in salary cuts?

So yes, my family and I had some struggles, particularly in the beginning when the classroom needed so much extra time to get things started. I had many days I and my children were away from home for 12 or more hours. I survived by having breakfasts and dinners on the train, grabbing fast food, or my eventual routine of serving dinner to the children in the bathtub followed by a bedtime story for dessert. I was told by different people at church that I should just go home. I am sure many of them did not know what to do with a single mom who was often over her head on Sunday as a result of each weekly ensuing minidrama at my workplace or with my children. (and of course my German in the beginning was inadequate for a proper explanation) The Latina members understood my Spanish explanations, but the Swiss thing to do is to give people space, which sometimes made going to church difficult.

My neighbors on the other hand were quite different. I live in a very small village. There are many farms and open fields with sheep and cows and yet people live here from all over the world. Everyone greets each other on the street with a slight kind bow and they look after each other. This can be good or bad. One time I was scolded for not keeping Josh, my 10 year old free spirited son, with me as he took his bike onto the train in a different door, while other times friendly grandmotherly types tell me I am always running and I need to slow down with my boys. Another time 2 neighbors helped me carry Caleb, my 5 year old, home when he injured his leg from my bike wheel. When that happened I realized that everyone knew who I was because I and my boys in their matching yellow jackets would take the trains every morning between 6:30 and 7 and return between 5 and 7 most evenings, and sometimes as late as 9.
After awhile, if someone new would find out I was a single mom, they asked how I did it. I usually said something like adrenaline, or I don’t, but I wish I could have found the German words to say that that my survival has been purely from the tender mercies of the Lord and the good people who have come my way.

Taking the trains.
Caleb fell in love with Switzerland purely for the trains. Every time we get off the train he has this ritual of running to the front of the train and waving the driver goodbye as it leaves. The drivers always smile or wave in return, once he was given a ticket and another time he was rewarded with a whistle blast. But later on, I would find that my son’s friendliness would come back to help me.
So with a 15 walk to the main train station in the dark early morning with 2 boys and lots of papers and learning materials in tow, we were inevitably running late for one unforeseen reason or another. When the doors of the train close and the yellow lights flash, it is too late to get on and in my case that meant waiting another 30 minutes for the next train. The Swiss like the trains to run on time and hate delay, but still there were many kindly people who held the train’s door open for us if we were spotted running.
But later on, I found help in other ways. Twice a man on a bicycle, seeing my heavy bags of books, offered to take them on his bike so that I could run faster with Caleb to the station. On other times, when I found myself approaching the train’s closed doors with the yellow light flashing, I found the door opening to me. This only happens when the train driver manually stops it. One day the train passed me and I was a block away. The train was running late, but still waiting for me for an additional minute when everyone else was on the train. The second we got on, the yellow lights flashed and we were off. To me these times are what grace means to me. And for these moments of Grace, I have my friendly son to thank who stole the hearts of the train drivers.
Putting it all together
I can think of many other times when the neighbors stepped in to help me. Josh was being severely mobbed at school in the beginning when he started at the public school. Mostly the children of foreigners would beat him up before or after school and he started behaving very aggressive at home at the slightest hint of stress. One time josh got in a severe fight with Caleb while they were playing outside and the neighbors separated them and stayed long enough to bring Josh water and talk with him and calm him down. I was mortified, but they didn’t judge me and were very understanding. Other times friends would call Josh saying they were sorry that so and so beat him up. Also I have had neighbors who have given me legal advice, German lessons, fixed my bike’s multiple flat tires, help me get organized, and just give me the friendliness I need to keep going for another day.
Luckily I can sew very well and my neighbors can’t, so we have a little “trade” going on. I spent the summer sewing things for the angels who have been there for me, and for those who I don't know so well, I retain a prayer in my heart that the Lord will bless them for their kindness.
My good Samaritans came to my rescue because they saw me everyday and knew me. I am amazed that this people have opened up their hearts to me, a stranger, in such a good way. I hope to be able to repay them somehow…and better yet, I hope that I can do the same for the strangers I may encounter who find themselves in need of a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on, or a friendly embrace.
finale:
I wrote this in the middle of my first school year. Since this time, I started a job at a new school with the promise that the working conditions and hours would be much better, when in fact my treatment has become much worse. While this was a darker time, it has also been a time of learning and I am grateful for all the experiences I have had this year. Fortunately I have even more friends, both near and far, who have come to my rescue: taking me to the hospital, inviting me for lunch or dinner, offering to buy my books or furniture or other things I must leave behind in my move. I have a variety of people who will help me clean my house (which has to be Swiss clean when it is vacated), not to mention an amazing friend at church who helps me stay organized and also gives great massages as well as other true friends at church who keep me grounded.
Josh and Caleb just started school back in the states and I look forward to joining them as soon as I have fulfilled my teaching contract. Later in the first year, when I cut down my working hours, the difficulties of both boys subsided and the psychologist in Switzerland said that while Caleb has some autistic tendencies, he is not autistic. I had to let Caleb stay longer with his dad (beyond the summer), which turned into a good opportunity to finally bond and he ended up speaking Spanish. Josh now speaks fluent German and is enjoying his time at school speaking English and doing more stuff in science. The difficulties he endured made him closer to the Lord and a more caring and responsible person.
Since the time I wrote this piece, we moved to Arizona for a complete lifestyle change yet again. We plan to stay here a long time and put down deep roots in the desert. We will all miss Switzerland. My heart will be there for a long time and I know someday, when my kids are grown, I will return to this beautiful, unspoiled land for more than just a visit. It took being in another culture, with other traditions, to appreciate those things which are universal. I hope someday I will pass on those lessons and gifts of kindness to other strangers who struggle along their way.