Little old lady wars
Living in a Swiss "Hochhaus", there is never a dull moment.
Apart from a few noteworthy exceptions, the Swiss have got a pretty good grasp on communal living. There are a defined set of rules, which you learn slowly at your peril (more about the rules another time).
Even with these rules, you cannot escape the fact that there are 32 family sized flats in my building, which funnel through one front door and share 3 washing machine rooms in the cellar.
I am lucky with my neighbours. From the outset, my nearest neighbour, a widowed Austrian pensioner in her late 70's, told me that she likes to be neighbourly but didn't want to live on the doorstep (well I think that was what she was trying to say, maybe it all got lost in my bad translation). Over the last 18 months, she has been true to her word - she has been around to meet my parents, friends and family about half a dozen times, and I have been invited around about the same, and on several occasions, tried to convince her to not open a second bottle on my account! Apart from these visits, she has presented me with fresh fruit from her farming friends on a regular basis over two summers, and I have reciprocated with a bottle of Malt at Christmas.
Over the last few weeks, we have witnessed the daily bombardment from Little old lady wars. I thought I had the two sides clear - along with who is allied to who. But obviously not. Last week, Katy witnessed my Austrian neighbour entertaining Cruella de Ville (aptly Christened by Al) for practically the whole day, only leaving to walk my neighbour's dog. Were these the same people that have been very visibly (very un-Swiss) at each others throats for the preceding fortnight?
Tonight is my wash-night. This is my one opportunity for using one of the communal washing machines. I am therefore popping down to the cellar on a half hourly basis for the best part of the evening. Yes, I have got caught in the cross fire twice tonight. The truce is obviously not holding. I must admit that at the moment, the greatest incentive I have to understanding more Swiss-German is to enable me to get a handle on what is going on.
It goes without saying that I am allied to my neighbour - despite my lack of understanding of the background to it all. Alina for one wouldn't let me side with Cruella (Cruella spends half her life by the main entrance talking to the children). Everytime she sees Alina, Cruella tells me "I think she is warming to me". Everything is relative I suppose and I applaud Alina's good judge of character.
OK, next load of washing should be ready for the tumble dryer - better get out there: head down and "Guete Arrbigs" at the ready. Wish me luck :-)
Apart from a few noteworthy exceptions, the Swiss have got a pretty good grasp on communal living. There are a defined set of rules, which you learn slowly at your peril (more about the rules another time).
Even with these rules, you cannot escape the fact that there are 32 family sized flats in my building, which funnel through one front door and share 3 washing machine rooms in the cellar.
I am lucky with my neighbours. From the outset, my nearest neighbour, a widowed Austrian pensioner in her late 70's, told me that she likes to be neighbourly but didn't want to live on the doorstep (well I think that was what she was trying to say, maybe it all got lost in my bad translation). Over the last 18 months, she has been true to her word - she has been around to meet my parents, friends and family about half a dozen times, and I have been invited around about the same, and on several occasions, tried to convince her to not open a second bottle on my account! Apart from these visits, she has presented me with fresh fruit from her farming friends on a regular basis over two summers, and I have reciprocated with a bottle of Malt at Christmas.
Over the last few weeks, we have witnessed the daily bombardment from Little old lady wars. I thought I had the two sides clear - along with who is allied to who. But obviously not. Last week, Katy witnessed my Austrian neighbour entertaining Cruella de Ville (aptly Christened by Al) for practically the whole day, only leaving to walk my neighbour's dog. Were these the same people that have been very visibly (very un-Swiss) at each others throats for the preceding fortnight?
Tonight is my wash-night. This is my one opportunity for using one of the communal washing machines. I am therefore popping down to the cellar on a half hourly basis for the best part of the evening. Yes, I have got caught in the cross fire twice tonight. The truce is obviously not holding. I must admit that at the moment, the greatest incentive I have to understanding more Swiss-German is to enable me to get a handle on what is going on.
It goes without saying that I am allied to my neighbour - despite my lack of understanding of the background to it all. Alina for one wouldn't let me side with Cruella (Cruella spends half her life by the main entrance talking to the children). Everytime she sees Alina, Cruella tells me "I think she is warming to me". Everything is relative I suppose and I applaud Alina's good judge of character.
OK, next load of washing should be ready for the tumble dryer - better get out there: head down and "Guete Arrbigs" at the ready. Wish me luck :-)
posted by Bruce at
7:40 pm
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