Since I decided to make Switzerland my home nearly two decades ago, you and I have unfortunately not been able to spend a whole lot of quality time together.

We are victims of geography, so to speak.

So this week, when you told me that you will be coming all the way from California to spend a couple of weeks with me this summer, you can bet that I was pretty happy to hear the news.

In fact, it is all I have been thinking about for the past few days. Although you have come to visit a number of times already, there is still so much that I would like to show you.

Of course there is the natural beauty that Switzerland has to offer - its mountains, lakes, rivers, and wonderful views - but I also want to share with you the nitty-gritty of everyday life here.

Switzerland has become my home and I want you to see it not only through your eyes, as a visiting tourist, but also through my eyes, as someone who loves living here and has to deal with the best and the worst (yes, even a place as seemingly beautiful and peaceful as Switzerland has a dark side) this country has to offer on a daily basis.

As you well know, there is only so much that can be shared through phone calls, emails and the occasional photograph.

Since you’ve lived in rural areas most of your life and probably haven’t been without a car since you were a little girl, I want you to experience the joys of public transportation.
As you know, I don’t own a car here, so it will be mostly punctual trains and trams and even the odd smelly bus or two while you are here, which means that you have to start thinking about time and distance in an entirely new way.

The liberty of owning a personal vehicle is replaced by a strange, but very useful skill of knowing exactly when the last trains run and how many connections it will take to best reach your destination.

I also want you to know what it is like to have the shops closed for the greater part of the weekend. Sunday is usually your grocery shopping day back home, but you can forget that here.  No midnight runs for ice-cream at our local grocery store. In fact, you just might have to wait until Monday morning to get your Ben & Jerry’s fix.

I want you to experience what it is like to separate all of the recyclables, down to the toilet-paper rolls.

I want you to experience strange social (remember, it’s a firm hand-shake with three kisses on the cheek!) and cultural behavior (if they stick an extra, non-needed vowel in the word preceding the parenthesis at the beginning of this conditional sentence, you will know they learned their English from a British text-book!).

I also want you to know what it’s like to be on a washing schedule, forced to share the same washing machine with all of people in the building. Wait, on second thought, strike that! We have our own machine now.

In any case, I am looking forward to your visit. We may not do all of the things listed above, so please don’t be too disappointed if you already have your heart set on separating the paper from the plastics.

But what we will most definitely do is spend some quality time together, and that is of course at the very top of the list. See you soon.

Love, your son

In fact, actions by its party members have ranged from downright divisive to blatantly xenophobic and racist.

Obviously, as an immigrant to this country and as a naturalised citizen, I find such actions quite alarming, as should anyone, who calls Switzerland his or her home.

What exactly, you might be asking yourself, could cause such alarm? Well, here is a quick synopsis of the week’s events:

Over the weekend, a member of the political party in question suddenly found himself in very deep water as a result of the following tweet on his Twitter account: “Maybe we need another Night of Broken Glass…this time for mosques”.

Not only was the hateful message a direct attack against the Muslim faith, but, by invoking the horrible events of November, 1938, which were a precursor of the Holocaust, it was also insulting to all of those whose lives were affected by the actions of the Nazi regime before and during the Second World War.

You would think that one such tweet would suffice, but sadly the hate did not end there. The same person then doubled-down with an equally reprehensible message that called for getting rid of “filth” by “shooting certain people”.

On Monday, in an unrelated (at least temporally) event, a different member of the same political party and elected official of the cantonal parliament of Zurich put forward the motion of officially dividing Swiss citizens into two categories, namely those who were born here, the so-called “real” citizens, and those who are naturalised Swiss citizens, the “problematic” citizens.

How would such a distinction be in any way, shape or form beneficial? According to the party member, it will help to “make visible the deficits of naturalized citizens”. It seems to me that one is or is not a citizen, that there is no gray area to this definition, but I freely admit, being the naturalized citizen that I am, that my logic could be deficient in some areas.

As a party of and for the people, one could surmise that its members would shy away from divisiveness and xenophobia, but for the time being, actions unfortunately do speak louder than words.

It will be the first speech that she has given in Europe in over twenty-four years. In fact the last time she spoke here, the Berlin Wall was still standing over an ideologically divided continent.

Although much has changed since then - the wall has fallen and Europe is no longer divided - the problem of immigration, both legal and illegal, and the granting of political asylum are still very much topics of debate, especially here in Switzerland, giving rise to other related difficulties.

In addition to her stop in Geneva, Suu Kyi will also be visiting other European cities on her trip, including London, Dublin and Oslo, where she will finally be able to personally accept the Nobel Peace Prize, which was awarded to her in 1991.

Her story is well known throughout the world: Placed under house-arrest by the Burmese government for nearly 15 years for her views on human rights, she became a symbol of non-violent resistance and a supporter of democratic change.

Although she was held captive in her own home, she in essence became an asylum-seeker on the world stage, a political refugee in the hearts and minds of international public opinion.

As a former political prisoner, the timing of Suu Kyi’s visit to Europe ironically coincides with the Swiss government’s own deliberations on how to solve Switzerland’s growing problem with asylum-seekers.

While Suu Kyi will be dining with the Swiss president, the Swiss House of Representatives will be debating on whether or not current laws regarding the processing and housing of asylum-seekers should be tightened.

Ideas range from cutting social services to a bare minimum - some would argue to an amount that is well below the subsistence level - to placing law-breaking individuals into federally-run internment camps.

Article 12 of the Swiss Constitution grants the “right to assistance when in need”: “Persons in need and unable to provide for themselves have the right to assistance and care, and to the financial means required for a decent standard of living.”

Will the new laws enacted by the Swiss government affect future Nobel Peace Prize winners of this world, people, who, like Suu Kyi, struggle for human rights and democratic principles in their own countries? As is the case with nearly everything, only time will tell.

She also pointed out the fact that even on one of Zurich’s most famous and busiest streets, the Bahnhofstrasse, you can find large trees providing shade for the throngs of shoppers, tourists and bankers that march up and down the road each and every day.

If you live here, you might take all of Zurich’s plants for granted, but if you are visiting from another city, I guess you tend to notice such things.

Not that my cousin comes from some barren wasteland where nothing grows; she lives in the Austrian capital of Vienna, which has plenty of green spaces surrounding its historic centre.

However, she did remark that even on Vienna’s equivalent to our Bahnhofstrasse, the Graben, not a tree could be found.

Being the sceptic that I am (my family does hail from Missouri, which isn’t nicknamed “The Show Me State” for nothing), I immediately jumped online to look at Google Maps Street View images of Vienna.

And sure enough, all I could find were a few decorative shrubs surrounding the outdoor seating areas of adjacent restaurants and the famous plague monument that could possibly be mistaken for a tree if you had enough beer with your schnitzel at dinner.

Even though Zurich is Switzerland’s largest metropolis and in spite of the voices complaining about urban sprawl and uncontrolled development, the city has somehow managed to retain a very natural vibe.

There are still a few working farms located within the city limits and the forest is never more than a ten or 15-minute tram-ride away. The city nursery even gives out free tomato plants to anyone interested in trying out his or her green thumb. We have three on our balcony right now.

Sometimes it takes someone else to point out the obvious. My cousin’s comments instilled in me a small sense of civic pride, making me feel very fortunate to live in such an arboreal and verdant place.

At least five passengers have their iPhones out in the hopes of catching up on the latest gossip posted on their friends’ facebook pages.

Others have their noses stuck in one of the poorly written and cheaply printed evening newspapers that normally litter the floor of the tram or simply take up space on empty seats.

It seems as though we have forgotten how to throw things away, even things like free newspapers that aren’t even good enough to line the bottom of bird cages.

At the back of the tram, a few sun-burnt kids are fighting over the seats in the “Stübli”, the small VIP lounge that lets you sit a few steps higher than the rest of the passengers and offers good views out the back window.

Just on the other side of the tram, a long line of small cars, trucks and service vans is trying to beat the afternoon traffic out of town.

Some of the drivers are blowing smoke out of rolled-down windows, a few are snacking on candy or fruit and an alarming number are simply picking their noses, oblivious to the fact that I can watch them dig for gold from my window.

They seem to get visibly annoyed whenever pedestrians cross one of the three cross-walks going to and from the tram stop.

The flow of traffic on the other side of the street is much smoother. There are probably fewer people heading into the city at this late afternoon hour.

Occasionally someone on a motorbike zooms by, passing the cars on the inside lane that is reserved for trams and buses. A big tour bus roars by, shuttling a group of Chinese tourists to the next European destination, probably Munich’s beer halls.

Bikes weave in and out of the stop-and-go traffic as well. Sometimes it is a poor, helmet-less university student with her backpack full of overdue library books and sometimes it’s a tie-wearing banker type, who is probably trying to get in shape for next month’s company soccer match against the crosstown hedge fund rivals.

A loud ambulance rushes by, lights flashing and sirens blaring, on its way to the ER at the hospital down the hill. The street also has its fair share of nordic walkers, baby-stroller-pushers, dog walkers and Migros-bag-carrying pedestrians.

It seems as though everyone has a place they need to be. They are either coming and going, hard to tell which. Pretty much another typical day of traffic on a typical street in Zurich.

That’s right; a small army of engineers and technicians picked up a house, put it on rollers and very slowly pushed it - at the snail’s pace of three metres and 20 centimetres per hour - sixty metres down the street.

This technical feat was done to make room for an expansion to Oerlikon’s train station, all in the name of progress, that timeless story of the old making way for the new.

Those in charge of the project even thought it would be clever, by means of a giant banner attached to the front of the building, to quote (in German) the Sicilian writer Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa to justify their actions: “Alles muss sich ändern, damit es bleibt” - “If you want things to stay as they are, things will have to change.”

Both the house-moving and its banner got me thinking about the idea of permanence and its importance to mankind vis-à-vis the inevitability of gradual and imperceptible change, especially in terms of living here in Switzerland.

While the two notions are universal to every culture that populates the globe, they seem especially relevant here in the land of the Swiss, where permanence and change regularly seem to butt their metaphorical heads, oftentimes leading to strange discrepancies and contradictions that make this country such an interesting place to call home.

Case in point: just take a look at any process that involves any sort of governing in Switzerland.

By all accounts it can be described as slow and laborious. The framers of the Swiss constitution designed it in a way so that laws can only get passed if general consensus is reached by all parties involved.
A safeguard (or a handicap) created to ensure that things don’t change too quickly.

However, on the flip side of that same coin, the Swiss can also pass legislation by means of popular referendum, which can lead to rash, somewhat myopic laws, such as the ban on minarets, which passed in 2009.

In their rush for permanence - i.e. trying to preserve and protect the traditional image of Switzerland - the referendum’s supporters made drastic and unprecedented changes to the country’s constitution, which, I guess, brings us full circle back to the symbolism of last week’s events in Oerlikon.

For things to stay the same, everything must change. Which houses will we need to move next?

Apparently she was eligible to become a Swiss citizen, because her husband, the son of Swiss immigrants to the United States, was already the proud owner of a red passport. Bachmann’s dual citizenship status was, however, short-lived.

After receiving much criticism from her own political base as well as from her political opponents, Bachmann decided to renounce her Swiss citizenship, stating that she is a “proud American”, who is “100 per cent committed” to the United States Constitution.

It is common knowledge that dual citizenship and politics, at least in the United States, don’t mix well.

It is a strange coincidence that, while Michelle Bachmann was struggling with the concept of dual nationality, roughly 200 American and Swiss-American citizens got together in Zurich to attend a Town Hall Meeting with US Ambassador Donald Beyer in order to openly discuss their own difficulties with being US citizens in a foreign country.

Being a US citizen myself, I was interested in learning about the experiences of other Americans living in here in the Confoederatio Helvetica.

While many different topics were discussed at the meeting - airport security, visa requirements, global warming policy -the topic that garnered by far and wide the most interest was taxation.

Questions regarding tax filing requirements and liabilities easily took up more than 80 per cent of the discussion time.

Stories were shared and frustrations were expressed: “What happens if I forget to file a form?” “My Swiss bank no longer wants my business because I am an American citizen.” “My opinions as an ex-pat are not being adequately represented in the United States Congress.” “Will I be arrested the next time I fly home to visit family, because I didn’t declare my foreign bank accounts?”

One could almost smell the fear and uncertainty in the room.

In fact, while many of those in attendance expressed their pride in being an American, just as Representative Bachmann did in her statement to the media, the topic of expatriation was one that was nevertheless broached on several occasions.

The difference, however, was that in these cases, the nationality being considered for renunciation wasn’t the Swiss one.

I distinctly remember the first time I tried Rivella.

It was a warm, summer day in August of 1994. The drink was definitely different from anything that I had tried before, and considering that it is made out of milk serum, I remember thinking to myself that it wasn’t half bad. Now I thoroughly enjoy the stuff.

The same can be said of Swiss cheeses, especially Gruyère (or Le Gruyère Appellation d’origine controlée, as it is officially called).

Over the years I have developed quite a fondness for the famous Fribourg fromage. The sharper the taste, the better the cheese in my opinion.

And now, whenever my mother-in-law visits us from the Romandie (French-speaking Switzerland), she almost always brings along about a kilo of Gruyère, purchased directly from the village fromagerie (cheesemaker). As far as cheese goes, it doesn’t get any better than that.

Now, anyone who has ever tried Gruyère knows that the cheese has a very distinct flavor - there is a good reason for its AOC distinction.

The Swiss - as with most anything they undertake - are very particular about the taste and consistency of their cheese.

This being said, you can understand my delight, when, while visiting my parents in California, my mother brought home a big chunk of Gruyère from the grocery store.

Initially I was excited about trying the cheese, but my excitement soon turned into skepticism when I found out that this Gruyère was a Wisconsin-made variety.

Nevertheless, the Wisconsin Gruyère was a product of Emmi, one of Switzerland’s leading cheese producers, so it couldn’t be too far off the mark as far as quality and taste are concerned, right?

Well, anyone can see where this is headed and to make a long story short, let’s just say that I was right for being skeptical about the Wisconsin Gruyère. It’s not that it was a bad cheese.

That wasn’t the case at all. It just had absolutely no business being called Gruyère, and I think anyone who has tasted the real stuff would agree.

And, as it would happen, it looks like people did in fact agree with my assessment. Just last week, Emmi capitulated to pressure from Swiss cheese makers and has decided to no longer call its Wisconsin-made cheese “Gruyère”.

While I wholeheartedly agree with the decision, I guess this just means that I will have to fork out a bit more dough for the real, imported cheese the next time I want to make a decent Swiss meal for my family and friends in the States.

And I guess if I can’t find any real Gruyère, I can always stick to the classic Kraft Macaroni & Cheese out of the box.

It is just another day to us.

In fact, most Americans tend to be a bit suspicious of anything that has to do with organised labour or marching union workers. It is an ingrained reflex left over from years of Cold War thinking: organised labour equals anti-capitalism equals socialism equals communism equals bad.

Just follow any political discussion in the United States and you will quickly notice that references to labour movements usually have the same effect on listeners as four-letter words. That is why many Americans tend to celebrate their Labor Day (the first Monday in September) by inviting family and friends over for a sunny afternoon of grilled cheeseburgers and light beer next to the pool.

There is no marching or demonstrating involved. There is no demanding better wages or improved working conditions. We are simply grateful to have a three-day weekend to spend doing whatever we want, happily oblivious to the fact that it was all of that marching and demonstrating that got us that day off in the first place.

Thus, I am naturally always a bit surprised, even after living here for over 15 years, to find that the shops, schools and offices in Zurich are closed on this day and that many people are out in the streets either:

a) peacefully marching for workers’ rights,

b) throwing bricks through the windows of big banks and parked BMWs,

or

c) not being privy to the fact that it is a holiday, wondering why all of the shops, schools and offices are closed.

And while one may or may not agree with the way certain groups choose to “celebrate” the holiday, I, for one, am thankful for the day off. It gives me time to reflect upon the importance of work and allows me to appreciate all that workers have accomplished to improve the quality of our lives.

That being said, it’s now time to fire up the grill and open up a few bottles of beer.

It’s that time of year again. The time when I will request a C-Permit. Again.

Since I failed to obtain that all-important “I’m a foreigner in Switzerland but not as foreign as some other foreigners” permit last year, I’ve taken it upon myself to give you some additional reasons for why I am now what my Swiss friend Tom calls, “Swisser than the Swiss” (key words, “Swiss friend.” See, I am integrating.)

One: There is an alphorn in my living room. It has been there for two years.

Two: When a train is one minute late, I check my watch constantly and get chest pains.

Three: I can’t travel anymore without thinking how dirty the rest of the world is.

Four: I have used quark for homeopathic treatments. Several times.

Five: I’ve held an August 1 party every year since 2006.

Six: When the clock strikes twelve, I automatically say “En Guete” to anyone and everyone.

Seven: My American husband owns a Berner Mutz (see reason one). My six-month old daughter owns an Edelweisshemd (and a black sheep stuffed animal - an SVP joke, if you will).

Eight: Say the word “Foehn” and my head automatically pounds.

Nine: I have increased my yearly chocolate consumption by over one kilo (I would especially like to give credit to all of those post-Ostern chocolate bunnies on Aktion).

Ten: I no longer type “y” when I mean “z” and vice versa.

Eleven: I have Reka checks and I’m not afraid to use them.

Twelve: I have gained a true appreciation for capitalizing Nouns.

In conclusion, I would like to thank you for something very precious to your people: time. I will leave you with the traditional Migros cashier farewell: “Danke vielmal shoenen Tag auf Wiedersehen adieu.”

Mit Freundlichen Grüssen

Chantal Panozzo